#omc x reader

[sgt-seabass]

𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒅

✧˚ · . a collaboration between @navybrat817 and sgt-seabass

I just wanna see you bleed. Open you and set you free. (x)

pairing — bucky barnes x fem!reader w/c — 9.7k this is a dark fic. 18+ only. listening to —♫disaster

part of the Vengeance AU previous part - 𝑬𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅

warnings — bucky barnes is going through it, dark fic, the reader is having a hard time mentally (.... totally not self inserting heh), violence, slapping, spanking, use of a gun to threaten, non-consensual connotations and threats (nothing actually happens), mild mention of blood and injury, captivity, forced drugging via injection a/n — sorry this took so long. depression is a bitch. thank you navy for putting up with my delays!

The thing about love is that it comes with risks. And the biggest risk of all is loss, for a heart that does not yearn for another never truly knows the meaning of catastrophic loss until grief visits them. 

Love was still worth it to Bucky. Even with his wrenching heart and endless tears, the tenderness he shared with you was something that no one could steal or decimate. While the assailants had trashed your shared home, they could never take the memories - the feeling of your deft fingers brushing across his skin, the bright smiles you’d gift him, and the unwavering silent support that always held him upright. 

Bucky was a man because you motivated him to be his best self. He was no longer a ghost, a nightmare, a mirage of misery - he was human. 

You were gone. And there would be nothing stopping him from getting you back. 

It had been three days since you’d been taken, and frustratingly, Bucky felt no closer to finding you than the day when he’d first found the ruins of the apartment. He’d moved back into the tower with Alpine, taking up refuge in his old compound apartment. It was kept the same, like he’d never left. And he felt the same as when he’d lived there last – lost.

The whole team had become involved in finding you. You were family to all of them. And no one gets away with fucking with the family of the Avengers.

Bucky sighed and impatiently tapped his foot against the floor as he waited in the meeting room with Steve, Natasha, and Sam. Tony had been working on a reconstruction of what happened in the apartment since the security cameras were somehow turned off before the assailant’s arrival.

It was a planned hit; that much was clear. But they needed the rest of the details of what happened to know what they were looking at.

The room was silent. What could anyone say that hadn’t already been said? Bucky’s friends had already assured him they’d get you back safely, but those were empty promises said just to stop him from throwing himself off the top of the compound.

Bucky stared at the blank white wall ahead of him while his mind spiralled. This was his fault. If you were dead, that blood was on his hands. He should have known of the threat – had some inkling that this was coming. But he was completely blind-sighted. There was no indication that there was an incoming attack.

“Move the table to the side so we have room,” Tony commanded as he entered, his usual quips missing – quips that always made you laugh and smile, brightening the room with your aura.

“Hello to you too, Tony,” Sam said, assisting Bucky and Steve in pushing the meeting room table to the side so there was some floor space for Tony’s visualisation tool.

“Do you think she’s alive? Could she have survived the attack?” Were the first words out of Bucky’s mouth, his voice strained from the amount of crying he’d been doing.

“Yeah, I think she’s alive. Are you sure you want to see this, Barnes? It’s… It’s pretty brutal, even for your standards,” Tony sniped, earning a stern look from Steve. Bucky didn’t care, though; it was a fair enough jab when he’d been the one to kill Tony’s parents.

“Real smooth, Tony,” Natasha scoffed, crossing her arms.

Bucky set the awkward air aside. They weren’t going to get anywhere otherwise. “I need to see it.”

“Maybe you should wait outside, Buck—” Steve started, but Bucky raised his hand to shut him up.

“Don’t coddle me. I need to see it.”

Steve just put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze while Tony set up his small projection device.

Nothing could have prepared Bucky for the image that greeted him. There you were, or at least, an apparition of you. He wanted to reach out and touch it, but he held himself back. What he couldn’t stop were the tears that welled in his eyes. What if this was the last time he ever saw you? You already looked like a ghost in the odd blue hue of the technology.

Bucky gulped, his breaths coming out thick as you started moving from the bedroom to the shower. It played out like a macabre movie. Three assailants entered the apartment through the front door.

“They had keys?” Natasha asked, and Tony nodded in response.

Sam partially looked away when the assault began, Natasha and Steve’s faces hardening while Bucky had tears tracking down his cheeks. You fought hard, and Bucky couldn’t feel any prouder. You were his light – his fire, and you fought with every morsel of energy you had.

Tony was right – the ordeal was brutal and cruel. These men didn’t just kidnap you; they tormented you. This was personal.

“Any forensics?” Steve asked, his voice shaky.

“None. Whoever they are, they’re professionals,” Tony leant against the table. “And they clearly have a vendetta. Any enemies that stand out, Barnes?”

“Hydra is always top of the list.” Just the mention of the name had everyone in the room shuddering. Hydra had already done so much damage.

“Hydra fell when S.H.I.E.L.D did. They’re gone,” Sam reclined against the wall, hand rubbing nervously over his jaw, the same spot Rumlow had got a good hit on him during their fight at the Triskelion.

“You’re naive if you think that would get rid of them.” Natasha walked up to the projection, zooming in on the word you’d written on the ground. Blonde. “Although I don’t remember any of our known enemies being blonde.”

“Pierce was blonde.” Steve suggested.

Tony shook his head. “He was grey. And I highly doubt he’d be breaking into an apartment, seeing as he’s got a bullet-sized hole in his chest. Plus, he was an old fucker.”

Bucky forced himself to watch the whole recreation, eyes not straying for a moment as he searched for anything he was missing. It was a carefully executed but merciless attack. Tony was right; it seemed you’d survive physically, but what about your mind?

Bucky could hardly bear to think about what they were doing with you now they had you alone.

With you passed out on the floor, Bucky watched as the men bundled you up in a sheet to carry your bloody mess of a body out in. “There were no drag marks?”

Tony shrugged. “Nope. They carried her.” 

“Did no neighbours report anything?”

“It was early morning, so most had already left for work, and anyone who did see something aren’t coming forward. People these days aren’t keen on being a snitch since that puts a target on their backs,” Sam delivered sadly. To a degree, Bucky understood, but at the same time, he wanted to question every person in the damn building.

Realistically, his efforts would be better placed searching through viable intelligence sources. The more reliable the information, the better. These guys would have had to make some noise somewhere, and Bucky intended to find where.

“I’ll ask Maria to get the analysts onto where they might have gone. They’ll check every car that was spotted in the area if they have to. And we’ll see what we can get off the surrounding cell towers. If we’re lucky, they pinged off one of them. They can’t have just disappeared with her,” Natasha’s voice turned clinical. It was easier to be strategic without the emotional strings attached.

Steve nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Check all private flights and airspace as well. I expect they’ve left the country and gone somewhere harder to track. The fact they went to this effort and didn’t kill her outright means they have a use for her, which means she’s still alive.”

“Until that use runs out,” Bucky cut Steve off, his jaw twinging with how hard he clenched his teeth. “Then they’ll kill her.”

“We’ll find her before then, Buck.”

“We have to. She’s taken my heart with her.”

You’d been lucky in your life that you’d been sheltered from physical pain. You’d known grief, sadness, all the usual trials of life. But this level of absolute anguish was new. 

You were thankful you’d gone this long not knowing what it felt like to fear an impending death.

What even was death? An endless nothing? A light at the end of the tunnel? A world where you’re reunited with all those souls that had already left? Either way, it was the cessation of suffering. You can’t suffer when you don’t exist. 

Days had passed since your capture, and a routine had set in. In your dank, mossy-smelling cell, you ate, stretched, slept, shit, and brushed your teeth - a macabre rinse and repeat that had your mind dulling. You prided yourself in being creative, so having no stimuli apart from grey walls and odd smells was a special kind of torture.

Your captors left you alone for the most part. You only saw them when they delivered meals and your toothbrush, and even then, sometimes, they’d just slide the items through a small hatch in the bottom of the door, expecting you to return the items promptly.

Damien or Maddox would often leave with some snide remark, while Kage never said anything.

The thought of fighting back had crossed your mind, although you couldn’t do much with them watching, the blinking red light of a camera in the corner of your room a constant reminder that you were not alone.

Bucky would be closing in by now, right? Each time you heard steps coming to your enclosure, a morsel of hope would flourish like a blooming flower. And each time, those beautiful flowers had their heads sliced off. The disappointment was clear on your face each time, and a small whine would escape, normally ending in you devolving into a pit of tears.

Crying was the only solace. 

As the days had passed, you began to fear the opening of the door, because you expected death with his scythe and billowing black mist to be there waiting to cut off your head, like the way your hope had been deflowered.

Today was the same as all the others. Pain, tears, and acute loneliness all present. You sat on your cot with your legs to your chest, bandaged feet resting on the mattress so you could cry against your knees. Your wounds were healing slowly, bloody bandages changed by Kage each day, while your heart continued to break.

The wall vibrated subtly as music began playing upstairs, the reverberations traveling all the way down to your cell. You were underground, that much you had gathered. After your dinner, you would hear the music begin to play. You weren’t sure what they were doing up there, but you never heard any additional voices, so you assumed your captors were alone. Although, there could easily be a thick layer of concrete separating your roof from their floor, so you just might not be able to hear it.

All you did know was the music normally meant it was time to try and sleep. You had no sunlight, so you had to rely on the meals and music as your clock. You could have an opposite sleeping schedule for all you knew, but the men never said anything of it, so you assumed your intuition was right.

With a heavy sigh, you lay down, covered in an oversized t-shirt and cotton panties. It was cold, but with nothing more than a thin blanket, so you had no choice but to shiver and bear it.

The vibrations in the wall made a white noise that filled the room, and you preferred that over the silence. You couldn’t hear the music, so you liked to try to imagine what song it might be based on the tempo. 

You smiled to yourself as you placed your hand against the wall. Whatever it was, you knew Bucky would hate it. Deep bass beats were never his style. While you liked to imagine your boyfriend as John Wick, fighting along to electronic music, you knew the reality was far more grim. 

Thinking of Bucky, your eyes started to get heavy, and you slowly fell asleep.

It wasn’t a peaceful slumber, but it was rest - something you tried to get every chance you could. You didn’t know when you’d need your strength, so you tried to reserve it. 

And as it turned out, a situation requiring your strength was around the corner much sooner than you had expected.

The door to your cell swung open, and the loud sound had you shooting up with a squeak and wide eyes, no remnants of sleep in your mind as adrenaline surged through your veins. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the sight you’d be met with.

It was Damien who spoke first as they entered. “We caught ourselves a new pet. I have to say, this one seems much less fuckable than you.”

“Bucky,” you gasped, mostly in disbelief.

It wasn’t the rescue you’d dreamed of. Bucky hadn’t come in guns blazing and a smile of relief on his face.

No, Bucky was slumped, his metal shoulder being carried by Maddox and the other by Damien, while his legs dragged across the floor behind him and his arms were secured behind his back. He was dressed in his tactical gear like he’d come with the intention to save you. His face was bloodied and ashen, his hair sickly sticking to his forehead, and to your horror, there was a muzzle placed over the lower half of his face. You’d seen a picture of Bucky from when he was a soldier when you’d accidentally walked into a briefing room in the compound, his face scattered among others you didn’t recognise. But seeing him like that in the flesh was something else entirely.

You jumped up from the bed, ready to run to him, but Kage was by your side before you could act. He placed his hand on your collarbone, warning you to stay in place. “Your face is priceless.”

You couldn’t even feel the pain in your feet, as if the wounds were never there, as you whimpered at the sight of your lover.

“Bucky, are you alright? Bucky. Oh god.” You tried to move, but Kage’s hand gripped your forearm painfully, his digits digging in and leaving divots. Bucky tried to speak beneath the mask, but only muffled sounds came out. “No, please, don’t hurt him.”

“Bit late for that, don’t you think?” Maddox grinned, the pride clear as day on his face. “The mutt put up a fight, I’ll give it that. But it failed. That must really suck for you.”

They spoke like he wasn’t even a man. Not even a dog. Just an annoyance - a hindrance.

Damien and Maddox dumped Bucky on his knees a few steps from you. And that’s when he finally looked up. It was like he hadn’t wanted to accept that was your voice he heard, but once he set eyes on you, that was it. 

The dams broke, and both of you resolved into tears. “No, this isn’t real. This can’t be happening.”

“Oh, it’s happening.” Damien kicked Bucky’s back, sending him lurching forward, his cheek painfully hitting the concrete floor. The pained sounds that came from your boyfriend would haunt you for the rest of your life.

“Stop it!” You yelled, Bucky’s whimpers too much for you to handle. He was trying so desperately to speak, to move, but they’d beaten him badly and secured his metal arm away with vibranium cuffs. 

It didn’t stop him from trying though. Bucky rose to his feet, swinging his weight around so he could roundhouse kick towards Maddox and Damien. Maddox was faster though, pushing Damien out of the way and catching Bucky’s leg. 

There was a sick crunch when Maddox tripped Bucky’s stable left leg, his body buckling to the floor while Maddox held his right leg, allowing the joint at his hip to fold into an odd position before Bucky hit the floor on his side. He withered with a pained groan, while Damien took the chance to kick him in the stomach. It was like watching the most morbid film play out in front of you, and all you wanted to do was hold Bucky and tell him it was going to be okay. But the thing was, you never lied to him. And you had no plan to start now.

You tried desperately to wrench yourself from Kage’s grip, but instead he yanked your back to his chest, placing his arm across your belly so you were held uncomfortably against him. “He failed you. Do you think he still thinks this is all worth it? Or do you think he should have just left you to rot?” 

It was the most Kage had ever spoken to you, as if Bucky’s mere presence brought out a vitriol he kept hidden.

You shook your head, desperate to reject the baseless accusations. Even with his mouth covered, you could see in his expression alone the love Bucky held for you. You would never stop believing in him, even in death. “He hasn’t failed me,“ you gritted out, tears tracking down your cheeks. “He could never fail me.”

A sense of realisation took over you, the cogs turning as you looked upon your beaten lover. You’d wished for him to rescue you, to take you away from the pain and shield you from any further torment. But in doing so, you’d denied that Bucky was vulnerable - that he was the human you so dearly loved - made of flesh and blood and so dearly mortal. By placing him on the pedestal of a hero, you denied him his sensitivities, his feelings. You’d made him impuissant through your view of him as an impregnable force. You forgot that he is but a thing of atoms and material, so easily broken.

It was due to your expectations that he lay on the ground before you, bleeding and crying. Because he knew you were waiting for him. And here he was - just not in the way you had hoped. Now, hope was but a bird with broken wings, ready for death and the conclusion of existence. It was time for it to be put out of its acute misery. And it was time for you to mature and take responsibility for your future. 

“The only person who can save me is myself. It’s my path to take, not his,” your words came out shuddered, your hand raising to cover your mouth to try and hide your sob. It did little to muffle the sound as your eyes met the familiar cerulean blues. “Bucky. It’s fine.”

Damien pulled the muzzle from his face, and Bucky allowed a deep breath for what seemed like the first time in hours. “You have me, just let her go.”

Maddox laughed, shaking his head as he ruffled Bucky’s hair. “Trying to be noble, huh?” His fingers looped in the sweat-drenched strands, roughly pulling Bucky’s head back as he whimpered. “Do we look like we’re going to let her go?”

“She’s innocent in this, please,” Bucky begged, blood trickling down from his hairline as he squirmed on the cold floor. It was a painful, pitiful sight. “Keep me, but let her go.”

“Why would we when we can have some fun? She’s so pretty when she cries. The perfect toy for us to play with,” Kage husked, the hand on your stomach starting to dip lower towards your dignity.

You slapped his hand, an action which gained you a violent response. Kage threw you to your knees, the impact causing your bones to quiver and your cries to fill the room. You had to be strong, you had to be strong - the mantra didn’t help much as Bucky snarled protectively. “You touch her, and I’ll fucking kill you. I swear I’ll–”

“You keep running that mouth of yours, and it’s her we’ll punish,” Maddox gripped Bucky’s chin between his fingers, before spitting in his face.

“Please, I’m begging you. She’s just a normal girl, she’s innocent–”

“She’s not going to be so innocent when she has our cocks shoved down her throat.” Damien approached you, eyes raking your barely covered form. You stunk after days of not bathing, but that seemed like the least of their concerns.

“I can see why you picked her. She’s so much fun to have around.” Maddox forced Bucky’s viewline to you, arching his head on an awkward angle with the fingers tangled in his locks.

“You don’t own her,” Bucky rasped. “No one does.”

Maddox hummed with a shake of his head. ”That’s where you’re wrong. We all have our masters. Now we’re hers.”

"I will fucking kill you," Bucky snarled, trying to get off the floor, trying so desperately to fight. But he was easily subdued by Maddox in his weakened state.

Damien turned to your boyfriend with a smirk. "Not before we fill up each of her holes. So why don't you sit back and enjoy the show? Be a good boy now. Wouldn't want to have to muzzle you… again."

"We're going to enjoy breaking her," Maddox teased, his face getting close to Bucky’s, a staring contest of will beginning between the two. A contest that Bucky quickly lost when Maddox punched him in the gut. ”While you have your own appeal, I don’t fuck mutts.”

It was hard to process the scene playing out in front of you - the taunting, the threats, the hurt. It was too much to bear. You just wanted to be in Bucky’s arms again and have him tell you it was all okay.

But no, you had to be strong. “Please, don’t hurt him anymore. I’ll… I’ll do whatever you want.”

Kage held you firm, his free hand reaching up from behind to grab your jaw painfully. He didn’t speak, but you could feel his hot huff of breath against your ear, the remnants of a growl in it.

“You’ll do whatever we want regardless,” Damien commented, searching your face and soaking up all the emotion he could find.

Maddox left Bucky battered on the ground, but not without one more kick, this time to the underside of his jaw. Bucky’s head snapped back, a crack sounding as his teeth slammed together in the forced movement. 

You screamed, Kage and Damien’s hands beginning to roam across your body, feeling you like you were theirs. But it was like you couldn’t even see the three men anymore - just Bucky. Your vision had tunnelled to the focus on the one thing you cared about.

“Bucky! Are you alright? Bucky, please!” You couldn’t look away as his head lolled sickly, blood pouring from his mouth and nose. 

The hands keep moving over you, nausea roiling in your gut with each passing moment. But you still only focussed on Bucky. “Bucky, please. Bucky. You’ve got to get out of here. Somehow. Just go, please.”

The cell door was cracked open. He could logically make a run for it. But you knew he wouldn’t, not in his current state, and not without you. Maybe Steve was on his way? But you knew Bucky wouldn’t look so crestfallen if help was coming. 

“Please, Bucky.” You cried, not even sure what you were asking for at this point, all you could do was scream his name.

The more you yelled for him, the more you chanted his name like the only prayer you knew, the more the world began to warble. 

Bucky’s form began to waver, as did the rest of the room. Maddox, Damien and Kage had frozen in their assault, their skin rippling as your breath suddenly fell short.

What was happening? You couldn’t scream for Bucky anymore - you couldn’t do anything, as if your mouth had been glued shut.

As your tears fell and sobs bubbled from your throat, the world dissolved.

The nightmare was ending, allowing leeway for the real horrors to become apparent.

You woke for real this time with a jolt, your sounds muffled by the tape over your lips. You were sobbing just like you had been in your dream, and as you took stock of the room you quickly realised Bucky wasn’t here. It had been a horrible nightmare.

What was real, was Maddox towering over you, a roll of tape discarded on the ground and his gun to your head. He looked the angriest you’d ever seen, salivating and almost frothing at the mouth. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”

The tears started falling faster as you screamed against the tape, but it did little to quell Maddox. He forced each end of the tape down, the gun in his hand coldly pressing against your cheek. 

“Say his name again, I dare you. I'm not going to cut your tongue out. I'll fucking rip it out,” he growled, his words mouthed against your face and over your bound lips. His spit smeared over your skin, the heat of it warming where the metal of the gun had cooled.

All you could smell, see and hear was him. It was an overwhelming sensation that had you wanting to escape.

You writhed, but you couldn’t get away from him as he caged you in, kissing over your mouth again in a show of control, not endearment. He could take what he wanted from you whenever he wanted. You screamed and squirmed, but Maddox held you in place before ripping the tape off, allowing you to finally breathe in the musky basement air. “This fucking mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble.”

“W-What did I—“ Your heart nearly broke through your ribcage with how hard it was beating as Maddox forced the barrel of his handgun into your mouth, the metal sitting against your tongue and leaving a horrible taste. 

The struggle stopped, and you looked into Maddox’s eyes. The malice was pertifying. It wasn’t the same look he’d had during the assault in your apartment; no. It was worse. He was going to kill you.

His thumb moved in one swift motion to click the safety off, his finger resting on the trigger. “Say goodbye.”

You closed your eyes, fear clutching your heart and what felt like concrete in your lungs. You didn’t want Maddox’s face to be the last thing you saw, so you thought of when you and Bucky had adopted Alpine.

She had been found on the streets as a stray, only a year old with matted hair and a little injured paw. You’d both fallen in love with her, and nursed her into the ball of chaotic floof she was today. You thought of the moment where you first brought her home. She stayed in her carrier after the door had opened, too scared to venture out. So you and Bucky sat on the floor, cuddling and talking while Alpine slowly came out, before sitting next to you both. It was so peaceful. Such a small moment changed the trajectory of your life. It was those pockets of happiness you cherished the most.

You waited for the bang, the flash, the quick pain before the nothingness. But it didn’t come.

Instead, you heard rushed steps and yells before Maddox was hauled off you, the brunette slipping the safety back on as he let the other two pull him back. 

“What the fuck?” Damien snapped, a commotion starting.

But it was like water was in your ears as you stared up at the ceiling from your bed, the chain secured around your ankle rattling with the way your body couldn’t stop shaking. Your arms covered your torso, and it took you what felt like forever to open your eyes.

“She was calling for him! For that bastard!” Maddox yelled, and it was then you turned your head to look at him.

“What, so you were going to kill her? Mads! Stop! We just got her!” Damien grabbed Maddox by the shoulders, shaking him like it would bring him to his senses.

"One simple fucking rule. Don't ask to go back to him. She was wailing like a fucking banshee."

Kage was the only controlled one, ushering Damien out of the way so he could take Maddox’s face into his hands. “You’re not back there. You’re not being compared to him, not being tested on. Stop. You’re here, and you almost just killed her.”

“She. Called. For. Him,” Maddox said through gritted teeth.

Damien glanced over at you, and it made you curl a little closer to the wall. "She didn't mean to, Mads. You know she didn't. Just breathe. Come on.”

It didn’t stop Maddox from spitting on the ground, his breaths coming out in adrenaline fueled shudders. “That piece of shit. I bet he bragged to her. I bet she fucking knows everything he did and is playing stupid.” With Kage holding him, his sightline turned to you. ”You’re pretending like you have no idea what he’s done, aren’t you? You dumb fucking bitch!”

“You know that’s not what’s happening,” Kage quickly reasoned with Maddox’s face still between his palms. It was clear there was a brother-like bond between the three of them. It would be nice, if the context of the situation didn’t exist. If anything, it made you more scared of them.

The fear had your body feeling frail, and it took you a few tries before you could sit up on your cot. “W-Whatever I did… I’m sorry. I don’t k-know what’s happening.”

Even you were caught off guard with the weakness in your voice, but the apology did nothing to appease Maddox. In fact, it incited the flame again. He broke free of Kage’s hold, and you didn’t have time to defend yourself before he smacked you hard across the face, the sound resonating like a sick echo in the cell.

The pain came a few seconds later, a sharp sting spreading across your face as you sobbed.

“You fucking bitch. You think this is funny, don’t you? Playing the innocent act just so you can fucking laugh at me once I’m gone.” He was trying to goad you into something you weren’t. You wore no mask, obscured no part of yourself. You were just you. And in a world where so many people lied and deceived, you could understand where the line of thought had come from. But Maddox couldn’t be more wrong about you.

What was it he had against Bucky anyway? There was clearly history you were missing, some big piece of the puzzle that had been hidden.

You didn’t get a chance to respond before Damien was tugging him back, taking the gun from him and pulling him away. “Mads, you’re triggered. That’s enough. You’re not yourself.”

For a moment, you could swear there were unshed tears in Maddox’s eyes, but didn’t get the chance to tell before Damien had pulled him from the room, leaving you alone with Kage.

There was a long silence for a moment, just your cries as your hand rested on your throbbing cheek, with Kage standing by in thought. He looked to you, his icy stare not helping you calm down. “I’m going to have to punish you.”

You could still hear Maddox yelling as you rubbed your cheek, and when Maddox’s voice finally faded you curled your knees up to your chest, your sobs shaking you. Maddox would have killed you if they hadn’t intervened, but now you were going to be punished. It was cruel. “What did I do?”

“You broke a rule. You called for him. Subconscious or not, every part of you has to learn the consequences.” Kage rolled up his sleeves, crossing his arms. It was clear his conviction was settled, and there would be no point bartering. “First, you’re going to shower. You’ve pissed yourself.”

Fresh tears filled your eyes when you looked down and realised Kage wasn’t lying. The sheets stuck uncomfortably to your legs and panties, the hem of your shirt soaked. You weren’t even sure when it happened, having been so caught up in the nightmare and then Maddox’s rage. Your fingers gripped the edge of the mattress, head hanging so you didn’t have to look at Kage.

Part of you wasn’t even sure if you were humiliated. They’d stripped you so bare you didn’t have much left, not even the dignity that would be hurt from something like this. More than anything, you cursed yourself for not being braver.

You had to hold your own if you were going to survive.

Words failed you when Kage took your arm to stand you up, and you didn’t say a word as he released your chains started to lead you from the room. 

It was a slow walk as you hobbled on your injured feet, but it was clear Kage had no intention of carrying you as he walked a few steps ahead. He’d let go of his hold, so confident that you’d follow him that he didn’t even look back. You knew he’d overpower you without even breaking a sweat if you tried anything, and you didn’t have the energy to fight.

You were surprised to see the underground was more than just your room, with a small hallway connecting you to a large shower room. You assumed there must be more cells, because there were multiple shower heads and a few random lockers. Almost as if it was a prisoner gym shower. It was odd, and you cautiously stepped forward.

Kage just ushered you towards the shower, crossing his arms as he watched you limp onto the tiled surface. You went to take off your bandages, but he cleared his throat and shook his head. Flustered, you moved to your shirt and underwear instead, turning away from him as you stripped bare and dumped the soiled clothing on the floor.

You cautiously stepped forward to turn the shower on, shuddering when the cold water began pouring out. There was only one tap, and no indication that the water was getting warmer, so you turned back to your captor. “There’s no hot water?”

There was no response from Kage, just a stare that told you all you needed to know, as if he was silently saying ‘get on with it’.

You shivered as you stood under the cold stream. When the water washed over your face, it was like you were back in your apartment all over again, and you let out a panicked gasp before stepping back.

The way your body shook wasn’t only from the cold.

With a bated breath, you glanced back at Kage. But he was no closer. He wasn’t going to pull you out, going to attack you, it seemed. The danger still loomed, memories of your assault fresh in your mind.

You returned to the water, washing yourself off as you could feel Kage’s gaze burning into you, as if he was studying each of your movements. He finally moved when the water shut itself off, pointing to a grey towel that was the same dull colour as the rest of the basement.

The last remaining water droplets blinked from your vision as you stepped forward, taking the towel and beginning to dry off. You glanced around, frowning when you saw there were no fresh clothes. 

“Uhm… clothes?” You asked hopefully, to which Kage shook his head. It wasn’t surprising, but it was upsetting.

As you ran the towel across your skin, you couldn’t rid of the nagging question that was plaguing your mind. “Why didn’t you just let him kill me?”

“He doesn’t need the guilt,” Kage finally spoke, but his answer only made your brows furrow.

“Why would he feel guilty for getting rid of someone who doesn’t matter?” It was conflicting information. They’d said you were nothing while in your apartment, and had treated you as such. But of course, you weren’t given an answer. Instead, Kage began leading you back to your room, your waterlogged bandages making it hard to walk. “What’s my punishment?”

Kage doesn’t answer, instead leaving you alone in your cell. “Strip the bed. I’ll be back.”

You gently rubbed your cheek where Maddox slapped you as you stared at the open door. You could run, but that would just worsen the situation. And you were in no condition to make it far.

Your gaze shifted to the blinking red light in the corner, staring into the black lens before snapping out of it and beginning to strip the bed as you were told. You kept replaying the events in your head, but it just didn’t make sense. You didn’t know why Maddox was so furious, and why Kage and Damien stopped him before he did any real damage. There was clearly something you were missing, but you were too fatigued to notice.

You used the sheets to soak up any remaining moisture from the mattress, which was covered with some sort of dark waterproof fabric. Unsure of what else to do, you placed the sheets by the bed.

With the sheets on the floor, you sat next to them on the cold concrete, waiting until Kage came back in with fresh bedding. He held it out to you, waiting for you to approach him with an air of impatience. You hoped your punishment was a simple as making the bed, but you knew you were in for worse at the hands of these men. 

It didn’t take Kage commanding you to put the fresh sheets on the bed, his eyes not leaving you for a moment. He let out a hum when you finished, before taking a seat. “Come here.”

You let out a shaky breath before you approached him. There was something so ominous about the blue shine to his eyes, like a full moon bearing its magnetic energy onto you. You couldn’t help but feel pulled towards him, like your legs moved before you could even think. When you got close enough, Kage took your wrist into his grip. There was a beat of silence for a moment before he yanked you down. You yelped as you fell, your stomach hitting his thighs as he bent you over his knees. It was a humiliating position. As if they hadn’t caused you enough shame.

As naked as the day you were born, you lay across his legs, your ass raised, and shoulders slumped. There was no escape. You were under no illusion that there was no way you could reasonably get out without help. And without Bucky, or any of your friends, you were stuck.

You felt as if you hadn’t slept at all, and tiredness nipped at the back of your eyes as you resigned yourself in his lap. He seemed pleased, a near silent grunt sounding as he rubbed circles over the globes of your ass.

When the first slap landed, you yelped, a sharp pain on your ass from the impact of his palm.

“One.” You heard him count under his breath, before the second spank hit. “Two.” Tears gathered in your eyes, small droplets hitting the ground below as the third hit landed. “Three.”

“Why?” You croaked out. “Why are you doing this?”

“Four.” Kage uttered, another slap hitting you and causing your body to jolt. Four. The counting continued despite your pleas, the pain worsening with each hit. He wasn’t holding back, and the pain began to elevate to the point where you felt as if your bones may shatter. Five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

“Please, I don’t understand. I’m sorry- I’m s-sorry I said his name. But I didn’t do it on purpose,” your words are mottled with sobs, and you turned back to look at him despite the way you had coiled around his thighs. “I don’t understand. Why do you hate him?”

Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty.

Kage’s icy glare met yours. In just a look alone he conveyed so much emotion, far more than words could ever express. There was anger and hurt all broiled up in a stew of self-pity. Twenty one, twenty two, twenty three, twenty four, twenty five, twenty six, twenty seven, twenty eight, twenty nine. His spanks didn’t stop, not even when your cries resounded off the walls like a ghoulish orchestra, your begs garbled with the agony coursing through you.

“Thirty,” he coldly said, his hand once against slapping against your abused ass. When he brought up his hand for another hit, he stopped. On his palm was little dots of blood. You whimpered at the sight of it, and his eyes narrowed. He’d been hitting you so hard he’d broken skin with the impact.

“Please, why? What’s going on?” You lamented, growing weary of his silence. “Just tell me. Why do you hate him? What did he do?”

Kage hit you again, more aggressive this time. You howled in pain as he held you still. His breaths came out in a huff as he calmed himself down. “Don’t act dumb. You’re his girlfriend. You know what he’s done.”

“I don’t!” You rebutted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Kage’s steel blue eyes flashed with something dangerous, his hand rubbing circles on your skin and smearing your blood across your flesh. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not.” You were genuine, and Kage’s eyes narrowed as he considered you. “I’m sure you did some research before taking me. I’m just a girl.”

”What, your boyfriend didn’t brag of the lives he ruined? How he ruined our lives. We’re orphaned freaks because of him. Because the Asset couldn’t just do his fucking mission. But he had no problem doing his job just fine when he trained us, when he beat us to a bloody pulp making us wish were dead. Over and over and over again. Hydra’s fist hits fucking hard. And he leaves behind nothing but lost souls.” It’s the most you’ve heard Kage speak, but what he’s saying makes no sense to you. “The Asset doesn’t care about the wreckage he leaves behind as long as he’s happy – as long as he can continue on with his pathetic life.”

Bucky ruined lives? The surprise and confusion on your face said it all. From what you knew, he didn’t do anything. He was a prisoner of war, he was a soldier, but his involvement with Hydra was news to you. The most you’d heard of the organisation was from reports when the triskelion fell. It was broadcast everywhere. “He didn’t tell me anything. I only know who Hydra are from the news.”

Kage let out a dark, mocking chuckle. "Stop lying."

"I'm not! I swear. He never told me. He doesn't tell anything about his missions either. H-He said he couldn't. That it was safer that way." You remembered the first time Bucky came home from a mission. He was covered in soot and a mess. Being naive, you asked him what happened, and it was then you realised it was better for you not to know. The horrors of the world were not for your eyes… until now.

Kage’s fingers gripped into the plushness of your ass. ”But you’ve been to the compound.”

“As a guest - a friend. Never when a mission was happening.” You sobbed, your brain spinning in circles at the new revelations. “I’ve been there for dinner or parties. Nothing else.”

His nails made divots in your skin as he gripped you. "You really had no idea?"

"No, I didn't. And I'm sorry. For all of you," you hiccupped. You couldn't lie about that. Losing family is never easy. "I didn't know."

Kage didn’t seem convinced. ”But you know of Hydra?”

You shrugged best you could over his knee. “Sort of. N-Not really. I just saw the news when those big helicopter things crashed - uh, helicarriers?” You let out a shuddered sigh. “The news said Hydra was behind it.”

His fingers eased, moving to rub over the sensitised skin. ”Did you read the documents that were leaked?”

You shook your head, tears dropping to the floor. “No, why would I do that? I didn’t need an existential crisis. I get stressed enough about everyday news, like a mugger or a cat stuck in a tree.”

"So he kept you in a bubble," he said after a moment, more to himself than to you. "If you're lying—"

"I'm not," you promised, almost dissolving into more tears. "I swear to you. All of you. I have no reason to lie to you."

There was a beat of silence while your mind ran a million miles an hour. Bucky was a prisoner of war, you knew that – the world knew that. But… he was with Hydra? You pursed your lips. There was no way he would have been with them willingly. He was a prisoner of Hydra, you surmised. He’d made comments in the past about never being in control until now – always being ordered around by someone else. Admittedly, you hadn’t taken it as literal. A soldier takes orders, but this – this seems entirely different. There’s no way Bucky would hurt someone unprovoked, not unless he was being controlled. The man you loved was no villain.

Kage broke the silence. ”Do you resent him for not telling you?”

A heavy sigh left you, pain still flickering up your spine from your abused ass. “It’s his story. I’m not the one who can decide when it’s time to tell it.”

"But he's the reason you're here,” Kage said as his hand ran up your back before reaching your shoulders, pulling you up and guiding you to sit in his lap.

You whimpered at the pressure on your bruised skin as you sat on Kage’s thighs. "Better me than another innocent person."

Kage’s face was close to yours, his breath fanning across your skin. ”You wouldn’t trade places with someone else?”

You tried to move back, to get some distance, but Kage held you firm. “No. I couldn’t bring myself to subject someone else to this kind of pain.”

He seemed to be searching for something in your eyes. "You don't like others hurting, do you?"

The question surprised you. "No, I don't. I've always tried to help others if I can."

Your answer has the air in the room changing, some of the coldness turning a bit warmer as Kage brushed away some of your tears. Your blood was still on his hands, and you eyed the redness of his fingers as he touched your face.

A tremble coursed through you when you heard footsteps approaching, and your attention turned to the doorway, where Damien emerged with a salve, some wipes and fresh clothes.

His expression had changed too. Where there was anger was now a new understanding. They really thought you knew what they’d been through, you realised. You glanced between the two men, uncomfortable and distressed. Their anger was ruthless, but you feared whatever this was more. Kage’s hands over your waist were firm, but with an edge of gentleness.

You didn’t want them to like you.

Maybe you should have just lied and said you knew. But that wasn’t you. You weren’t deceptive.

Kage lifted you easily, placing you face down on your cot, your face wetting the fresh sheets below you as you cried. The overstimulation of your body and mind hit like a freight train, and you sobbed like never before.

“Jesus, try to calm down. You’ll make yourself sick,” Damien tried to placate as he sat next to you, wiping away your blood before beginning to apply some ointment to your battered skin. “You really did a number, Kage.”

You glance over at the blonde, and he didn’t seem proud of himself. Quite the opposite. His jaw clenched. “Shut up.”

“Hey hey, I’m just trying to break the tension here.” Damien kept applying the ointment until your welts were covered. “You took your punishment well.”

You think he’s trying to compliment you, so you respond with your head buried in the sheets. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he quickly responded before finishing up.

Your mournful cries didn’t stop, and they only got worse when Kage and Damien finally left, leaving you alone. You dressed yourself in the plain tshirt and panties, before it all became too much and returned to the bed.

All your bottled-up emotions spilled out into the mattress. You screamed, your sounds muffled by the bedding, not stopping until your throat hurt and your voice was course.

The more emotion you let out, the more fatigued you became. And slowly, you began to pass out, crying yourself to sleep. All you could hope was this sleep was more restful, and less eventful than the last.

Thankfully, you didn’t dream this time. Your rest was no more than a limbo between horrors – horrors which seemed very intent on continuing, with Maddox stood with his arms crossed, watching you slumber as he leaned against the open doorframe. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

You nearly jumped through the ceiling in fright at the sight of him, your whole body flinching as you sat up, your bruised ass instantly sore from the movement. “You didn’t.”

“Good.” He tilted his head, the anger he’d been sporting gone behind his normal demure expression. “So, I had a chat with the guys. Look, we thought you knew all about us. And now we realise you really are innocent in all this. We feel a bit bad about the whole situation, so we’re going to let you go home.”

It sounded like a foreign language as Maddox spoke, your heart skipping a beat. “You’re going to let me go?”

“Seems only fair. I think we’ve put you through enough,” Maddox shrugged nonchalantly.

“But you were so angry,” you cautiously observed Maddox. It felt like a trick, and it likely was one, but you couldn’t help the desire that smouldered in your heart. You could go home. More than anything you just desired to be comfortable in your own bed again, with your cat and the love of your life.

Maddox pushed himself off the doorframe and approached, the movement making you shuffle back on the mattress. He chuckled, shaking his head at your scurrying. “I have no intent of hurting you.”

“Surely you can’t blame me for being afraid,” you squeaked as he towered over you.

“Oh, not at all. I’ve given you more than enough reason. But here, truce?” Maddox offered his open palm for you to take, to help you stand. You stared at his hand for a moment, taking in the scarred skin. It looked like he held the sharp end of a knife more than once. They weren’t kidding about having been through pain.

Anxiety was a thick sludge in your throat as you placed your hand in his, allowing him to be a crutch for you as you got onto your feet. Your entire backside hurt like something fierce with each movement, but you tried to not show it too much on your face.

“Kage really let you have it, huh?” Maddox grinned, leading you out of the door and to the left, where Kage and Damien stood at the bottom of concrete stairs.

“Ready to go home?” Kage said as Damien took your free hand in his.

“Yes,” you blurted out honestly. “Are you… are you really going to let me go?”

“Of course. We may be assholes, but we’re not liars,” Damien chided, the warmth from his skin heating your hand.

“What about Bu– I mean, my boyfriend?” You questioned, making wobbly steps up the stairs towards what looked to be a basement door. Your suspicions were right - you were underground.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about him. That’s our business to attend to,” Maddox grinned, but it was akin to a shark showing their teeth. There was danger in the way he spoke.

Distracted, you missed a step, but they were quick to catch you, all giving out a soft laugh before you made your way to the top of the stairs.

You had guessed that you were underground. What you hadn’t expected was that you were under a house. You emerged into an open-plan living room and kitchen with a rustic aesthetic. 

“Do you like it?” Damien asked proudly. Clearly, he owned this place.

“... It’s nice.” You placated, taking your hand out of both Maddox and Damien’s grip. “I can.. just go?”

“Yes. Off you go. There’s a car outside waiting for you,” Damien said, and you could feel the soft rumble of a running engine through the floorboards.

You glanced back at the men, each of them looking expectantly at you. There wasn’t a moment of hesitation before you turned around and bolted for the front door, despite your body hating every moment. Your feet were still healing, and with your bruised muscles, it was torture. But you wanted out. No, you needed out.

You reached the front door quickly, and when you turned the knob, your eyes went wide. It was locked tight. There were multiple bolts on the door, which all seemed unlocked, but when you looked down, you realised the front door had a finger scanner. 

Reality began to set in when you placed your finger on the door and were met with a red flash and beeping. Access denied. “No... No, no, no. Not like this.”

You went to turn, but before you could, there was a sharp prick to your neck as one of the men plunged a needle into you. It became clear Maddox was your assailant as your legs went numb, and you tumbled to the ground with a gasp, seeing him standing behind you with dark eyes. Whatever the contents of the syringe were acted quickly, an odd floaty feeling spreading across your body as you lost control of your functions, your body stuck on its front on the cold hardwoods.

Their laughter became distorted as your brain fizzled, but you didn’t pass out. No, whatever they’d given you was keeping you awake, forced to watch as they circled your limp body. “She made it further than I thought she would with her injuries,” Damien smirked as he poked your side with his shoe.

“It’s cute in an utterly pathetic way.” Maddox used his boot to roll you onto your back before leaning down near your head. “Aw, is someone feeling a bit sleepy?” Unable to coil away, Maddox spit in your face with a cruel laugh. “C’mon, wake up, it’s playtime.”

Kage was next to torment you as you tried to roll yourself back onto your stomach to crawl away. His boot pressed painfully into your stomach, the steel tip digging in just below your ribcage. “Knock my foot away. Try it.”

You whined as you tried to use your arms to push him away, but you couldn’t. Your arms were like jelly.

“Mm, as fun as this is, we gotta move.” Maddox sighed as he straightened up, discarding the used needle out of your sightline.

You managed to get onto your stomach with Kage backing off, but all you could do was whimper as hands gripped your ankles, dragging you across the hardwoods and out the front door, your nose banging on the solid surface as you tried to dig your nails into the floor, but you had no strength left.

Your drool and blood from your now bleeding nose created a trail across the floor. At least if anyone found this home, there’d be evidence that you existed, your DNA staining the wood.

“Should we change her?” Damien asked, and from his voice, you could tell he was the one dragging you.

“She’ll be warm enough,” Maddox watched from the side as you were dragged to the porch stairs.

“God, she’s not going to piss in my car, is she?” Damien complained as Kage slung you over his shoulder, your body like a ragdoll, as he lifted you with scary ease.

“Just wrap a towel around her ass. It’ll do.” Maddox began putting bags in the back seat of the SUV parked outside.

Damien began to help him, but not without continuing to complain. “Just watch it. She already bled on my floor.”

Maddox laughed. “She bled all over her apartment and you didn’t even blink.”

“But that wasn’t my apartment,” Damien argued, a playful irritation in his tone.

They were having fun while tear droplets hit the gravel below you.

Maddox wasn’t giving up, though. ”You’re so materialistic sometimes, Dami.”

”When you pay for shit you can be too, Mads. Oh wait, you don’t pay for anything.”

”I’ve saved your ass enough times for payment.”

Kage sighed, his hand resting on your exposed ass. ”Would you two just shut up and help me get her in the car? I can do it myself, but then I’ll make sure blood and piss gets everywhere.”

Maddox sighed, too. "Yeah, yeah. Gimme a second. You leave the present in her cell?"

"Yeah. They'll find it."

You tried to speak, but only a groan came out. 

"Try not to talk. It won't do you any good.” Kage said as Maddox helped him haul you into the trunk of the car.

”At first, we couldn’t get you to talk, and now you won’t shut up.” Maddox started to wrap a towel around your lower half. "Just put some music on and drown her out."

“You… lied…” You managed to get out amongst your drooling whimpers.

Kage leaned in, his hand caressing your cheek. “We didn’t. You are going home.”

“Just not to the home you hoped for,” Maddox chimed in, derisively patting your thigh. “Rest up, babydoll. There’s a long journey ahead of us yet.”

Kage and Maddox pulled back, and their faces were the last thing you saw before the boot was slammed shut, and you were covered in darkness.

To be updated on when I post please follow @sgt-seabass-library and turn on post notifications.

To be updated on when Navy posts please follow @navybrat817-sideblog and turn on post notifications.

#ambs writes #navybrat writes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #omc x reader #omc x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #fanfiction

[navybrat817]

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒂𝒖

✧˚ · . a collaboration between @navybrat817 and @sgt-seabass

After his escape from a life of captivity, and the fall of Hydra, Bucky Barnes thought he finally had a chance at happiness. The problem is, if you cut off one head, three shall take it's place. A new Hydra had risen, and their ruthless path will leave destruction in it's wake.

A/N: We're very excited to share this series with you. It's going to be a rough and bumpy road for our reader, but we hope you enjoy the ride.

This AU is dark and 18+. Heed the warnings on each post.

𝒏𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒂 | AO3

Bucky returns home after a mission, ready to spend time with his two favourite people, you and Alpine.

𝒂 𝒕𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒂𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔 | AO3

Is this the way it's got to be? Ignite the fire inside of me. Embrace the life of tragedy. A tide of war and broken dreams.

𝑬𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 | AO3

Stay reformed. Erase this perfect world. Hate left below. The dark stray dog of war.

𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒅 | AO3

I just wanna see you bleed. Open you and set you free

More to come...

#ambswrites #navybrat writes #dark fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #omc x reader #omc x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #james buchanan barnes #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan #collaborative writing

[crashdevlin]

Local Legends 2- Guilt

Author’s Note: This is part two of Local Legends miniseries, a nightclub AU with a bit of a twist.

Summary: The Winchesters are Lebanon legends, courting controversy like any wealthy family does. Y/n has always been interested in the gossip, but never had cause to be a part of it, until she runs into Dean Winchester at his nightclub and gets the fabled black business card that lets her into the VIP lounge.

Pairing: Dean x Reader, OMC (Rick) x Reader

Word count: 2246

Story Warnings:  cheating/infidelity, angst, guilt, shame, relationship angst

~~~

You stared at the TV, but you weren't seeing the image on the screen. Your mind was stuck at Draco Corde, in the VIP lounge, with Dean Winchester.

Why your brain wouldn't leave that room, you didn't know. You wished it was the shame. You wished you were overthinking the ramifications of cheating on a man you'd been dating since college but it wasn’t guilt you felt when you thought about the VIP. At least...not when you were alone. The shame hit like a Mack truck as soon as Rick walked into your apartment.

"Hey. I missed you last night," he said, dropping his briefcase by the door and flopping down on the sofa next to you.

"Got in late. You were already asleep."

"Pub quiz ran that late?" His eyes were on the TV. It wasn’t an interrogation, just an inquiry.

"No. I went to the club for a cheaper drink. Ladies Night."

His eyes found you right away. "You went to Drac two days in a row?" You shrugged. He'd never cared where you drink. Why did it matter? "I don't think you should hang out there, Y/n. That place…" He sighed and leaned forward to look into your eyes. "The Winchesters aren't good people and I don't want you-"

"We have three bars and a nightclub around here, Rick. Only one of those is a fun place to be. People come from three counties away to go to Draco Corde. Since when do you even have an opinion on the Winchesters?"

He sighed again and looked away. "Since you let me in on your opinion of them. Since all I've heard since I moved to Lebanon is bad things...and even in KC, Y/n. Their legacy is so bad, I heard about them clear across the state, babe. They're literally bad news."

You couldn’t argue that. You didn't really know how to. "Still...they just own the place. I've only ever seen them twice."

"Twice?"

Your jaw dropped a bit at the unintentional admission. "Y-yeah. I...saw them tonight, too."

"Twice in a row. This is why I don't want you around their club, Y/n. You’re gonna get dragged into their craziness and I don’t know what to say to get you to stop this."

You blinked at him a few times before standing. He was right. You were getting dragged into the Winchesters' craziness. "I love you and you don’t have to worry...I won't be going to Draco again for a while." After what you did, you couldn’t imagine going back there without feeling overwhelmed with guilt.

You bit your bottom lip as he sighed and stood, wrapping his arms around you. "I know I don't have to worry about you. You're a smart woman. I'm worried about them."

"You don't even know them, Rick."

"I know about them, Y/n, that's enough."

You nodded. "Okay." You didn't want to talk about it anymore. "So, this weekend, I was thinking we could go check out that new multiplex in Wichita. You know, the one with the full restaurant and-"

He hissed and grimaced. "I can’t, babe." He reached up to run his knuckles over your cheek, then stepped back. "My parents called and they want me to visit this weekend. My sister is having an engagement party and I have to make an appearance, in the very least."

You licked your lips and looked away. His parents were a sore subject. His sister was another. You'd never met them. After almost three years, you'd come to the conclusion you would never meet them. They didn't really look like good people anyway from the few pictures you'd seen of them.

"So, you're going to Lawrence?"

"Yeah. I know. I'm sorry. If I didn't have to go, I wouldn't."

"You don't have to do shit for them," you snapped. "I don't understand your unwavering loyalty for these people."

"They're my family. I know you don't have a good relationship with your-"

"This isn’t about my family. This is about yours. You say you don't want me to meet them because they're so terrible but you'll run to them as soon as they call? I don't get it."

"I'm not running to them," Rick said, eyes rolling as he turned away from you. "Look, my family are bad people but I was raised to respect family. I was raised to-"

"They're bad people but you have to respect them? Really? Bad people get cut off! Cut them off!"

"I'm not-" Rick sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I can’t. I can’t have this argument again. I have to go. Okay? I'll be back on Sunday night."

"Fine," you bit out.

"I'm sorry, okay, but I have to. I just have to."

"I said 'fine'." Rick just shook his head as he walked out of the living room. You pulled your phone out and called your boss. “Do you have any shifts I could pick up this weekend? I am...I don’t have a reason to stay home anymore so…”

Your boss penciled you in for work on Saturday, grateful for an extra set of hands on a Saturday night.

~~~

"I just sat a two-top of tens in your section. You're welcome," the hostess, Katarina, said as she tapped your shoulder.

"Thanks?" 'Two-top of tens' meant two hot guys. You had no interest in that.

"Look like good tippers too. You so owe me."

"It was my turn in the rotation. I don't owe you shit more than your normal share of the tips, bitch." You shook your head as you pulled a pen and a small notepad out of your apron and started walking toward table 14 in the back corner. You stopped in your tracks when you noticed the broad-shouldered man with the fluffy hair. Sam Winchester. Which meant that the man sitting across from him could only be Dean.

Sam and Dean, in your workplace, in your section. What kind of coincidence is that? God must be testing you...since you failed the last test.

You took a deep breath and stepped up to the table, placing cocktail napkins in front of each of them as you smiled brightly. "Welcome to Marcella's. My name is Y/n, I'll be serving you tonight. Is this your first time visiting us?" you asked, as professionally as possible, quoting the service standard greeting you were taught when you were hired.

You could see Dean smirking as you focused on Sam. "This is our first time here, but it's not the first time you've served me. Neat, huh?"

Your smile faltered for a moment as an unwanted rush of heat blossomed between your thighs. You cleared your throat and continued on your script. "Well, welcome to Marcella's, we're so happy to have you here and hope you come back in the future. Since it's your first time, would you like any recommendations?"

"Oh, I know what I want. Tried it Thursday...it was real good," Dean said, leaning forward.

You finally caught his eyes and lost your smile completely. "That was an exclusive special for last Thursday. It won't be available again," you said, seriously.

Sam snorted as Dean nodded. He obviously thought something about the interaction was amusing...whether it was your denial of his brother or the code you used to do it, you weren't sure.

"I'm sure the chef could whip you up something delicious, though!" Your fake smile returned. "Can I get you started with some drinks? We have a full bar, stocked with some of the best, top-shelf liquors."

Dean smirked and nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Get me a 20 year scotch, neat.”

“Pappy,” Sam said, looking at the bar menu.

“Sure! I’ll go put those drinks in with the bar. Y’all take a look at your appetizer menus and I will be right back.” You started to walk away but Dean’s hand wrapped around your wrist. You stopped and looked down at the physical contact. “Yes, sir?”

“That skirt you were wearing on Thursday was hot as hell.” You tugged on your arm to get him to release it. “But there’s something about a girl in uniform that’s hot, too.”

You swallowed thickly and stepped away, heat flowing through your veins. You put in the drink orders and went back to the table. Dean kept his hands to himself and didn’t make any comments as he ate his food. You thought maybe Sam had chastised him, which you were grateful for as you waited on them. You kept your smile in place and gave them three more drinks each, so Dean was tipsy as he stood and looked down at you.

“You should come by Drac again. We had fun, didn’t we?”

You licked your lips as he and Sam walked away. You bit your lip as you picked up the book holding the check. Your jaw dropped at the stack of hundred dollar bills. Over three times the amount needed for their $300 bill. You turned to protest the amount of tip but they were already out the door.

“That’s a six hundred dollar tip.” Katarina’s eyes were bigger than you’d ever seen them.

“Six hundred thirty,” you corrected, rifling through the bills. “And I can’t keep it.”

“What do you mean? Of course you can!”

“No. I can’t.” You shook your head. “Ethically, I can’t...for reasons I can’t go into.”

You shoved the money in your apron and cursed the fact that you couldn’t let yourself keep the rent money from a man you cheated on your boyfriend with.

~~~

You put the bills in an envelope and shook your head as you approached the bouncer at the front door of Draco. He looked you up and down, obviously unimpressed with the way you looked in your work uniform so you presented the envelope. “Will you please give this to Dean Winchester?”

“I ain’t a messenger boy.”

“Look, you just need to hand him the damn envelope.”

He sighed and shook his head. “Nah. I remember you, Miss VIP. You go in there and give it to him yourself.”

You bit your bottom lip and pushed past him, stomping toward the second bouncer at the curtain. He just pulled the curtain open as you approached. He obviously recognized you, as well. You just kept stomping. Your eyes fell on Dean, sitting in the corner booth with a rocks glass in front of him. He smiled and his eyes lit up as he saw you show up. You slapped the envelope on the table in front of him, making sure to keep your eyes off of his. “I cannot accept this. I took a 25% gratuity but I can’t take more than-”

“You’re denying my generous tip?”

“No, I’m denying...whatever bribery or-” You shook your head and stepped back, trying to shake off the memory of you writhing under him on that very table.

“I don’t need to bribe you, sweetheart.” He slid the envelope back across the table. “Take the money. I gave it to you for a reason.”

“And what reason is that? I was that good of a waitress?” you snapped.

Dean smiled and leaned forward. “You drive an oh-one Sonata with a squeaking drive belt and a shit radiator. You wear Wal-mart underwear and Target heels. Your purse is knockoff Dooney. You aren’t doin’ well financially, Y/n. You’re really in a position to turn down a payday?”

You swallowed heavily and stepped back. He was paying that close attention to you? “I don’t need your charity, Mr. Winchester.”

“Need is relative. Look, I’m tryin’ to be nice. You were...so very nice to me.”

“I’m not a whore and I don’t need your money for how-”

Dean rolled his eyes and stood, picking up the envelope. “I’m not trying to pay you for the phenomenal sex. I’m just trying to help you.” He tapped the envelope against the table and licked his lips. “My dad was a mechanic when he was my age. My parents had a one bedroom apartment in Lawrence. They slept on a hide-a-bed in the living room while Sam and I shared a bunk bed in the room. We ate PB&Js on white bread and Piggly-Wiggly meatloaf. I grew up...financially challenged, honey. I know what you’re living with.”

You blinked at him a few times. “How did you...I didn’t know you grew up poor.”

His expression softened as he offered the envelope to you. “Nobody does. We haven’t been poor since I was a teenager. Take the money.”

You bit your lip again as you reached out and took the money back. “You don’t have to-”

“Want to.”

“Why?” you asked, tucking the envelope into your pocket. “Why do you want to help me?”

Dean shook his head and set his hand on your shoulder. “I’m getting tired of you asking ‘why’.” He squeezed your arm gently and smiled. “I’ve taken a liking to you. Something good about you. I’m feelin’ it.”

“I’m...I’ve still got a boyfriend.”

“Yeah?” He chuckled. “And where’s he tonight?”

“Home,” you lied. “Waiting for me to get there.”

He seemed a little skeptical, but he didn’t say that. “Well...you better get home to him, huh?”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Yeah, I should. Have a nice night, Mr. Winchester.”

“Call me ‘Dean’,” he commanded with a wink before stepping away and heading back to his seat.

#cassie writes stuff #spn fanfic #spn au #nightclub au #dean x reader #omc x reader

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

In Plain Sight (Part 3)

Summary: The reader and Jensen have a chat on the way to work about her birth mother. Meanwhile her quick thinking gets her some praise at work...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x daughter!reader (with lots of daughter!reader x OMC)

Word Count: 4,500ish

Warnings: language, mention of family angst

A/N: Wonder what happened with the reader’s birth mom...

______

“Honey bun,” said your dad the next morning. He insisted on driving you in to work, even if you were fine to do so yourself. His voice was rough, laced with a lack of sleep. And he wondered where you got your morning grumpiness from. You grunted, sipping on your thermos filled with cold brew and ice. An affinity for black coffee was another thing you’d inherited from him.

“Father,” you mumbled, closing your eyes. Even though you were considered crew, you had a later start time to your day typically, normally a few hours after call time. You didn’t have to sit through hair and make up or do blocking after all. 

“Dost thou prefer to speaketh regarding young sire Foxe’s confession?” You rolled your eyes slowly, your dad chuckling deeply as he caught it in the side mirror. “You like my british accent.”

“That wasn’t british. That was butchering the english language,” you said, sitting upright, crossing your arms over your chest, snuggled up in a warm SPN crew hoodie you’d stolen years ago.

“I know Crew told you something very personal last night.” 

“He did. I’m assuming you knew about his family.” He hummed. 

“Episode one last season we’re in a car accident. He told me when I saw how shaken up he was at the end of that day. It’s not easy for him to share that. And the sad part is that the more well-known he gets, the more likely that information is going to get put out there without his consent.”

“That’s not guaranteed to happen,” you said, closing your eyes. “I know why you’re talking about this, dad.”

“I’m just saying, please be respectful of the information. That boy doesn’t need more heartbreak in his life.” You nodded, turning your head towards him.

“Crew’s your friend but you look out for him like a parent would, don’t you. You and mom.” He was quiet for a moment, parting his lips. “Dad. Come on. It’s obvious.”

“He is my friend. But this is a hard industry and I’d want someone to look out for you if I was gone. He deserves someone having his back. If that makes sense.”

“It does,” you said, glancing out the dark window again. “You and mom are good people, dad.”

“If you ever become a parent, you’ll know how much what you just said means to me,” he said quietly. 

“It was never your fault,” you said, still staring at the moving trees along the side of the highway. You hadn’t brought it up in years. You’d said it to him before but he had a tendency to shut down after you told him that. “Just like it wasn’t Crew’s fault.”

But this morning felt different. And you hoped he listened for once.

“I know it wasn’t, honey bun,” he whispered. “I just wish it never happened.”

“Me either but I want us to be able to talk about it because I recall doing a lot of talking and a lot more talking and you didn’t do any. It’s been a long time and one of us has a lot healthier way of dealing with it than the other.” A loud sigh filled the car, the air growing tense. “Dad.”

“Y/N. Enough. You know I’m hear to listen if you ever-”

“I thought you wanted us to be best friends again. Last I knew, best friends talked about shit like that with each other.”

“If I say I’ll talk to mom about it sometime will you drop it?” he said, voice harsher than he meant. 

“Fine,” you said quietly, glancing at him, his eyes focused on the road. “I get that I’m your kid but I’m not a little girl anymore. You can talk to me about her, about it, and I can handle it.”

“Leave her in the past where she belongs,” he said, words heavy. He was done talking about it until you were brave enough to bring it up again. 

But then he surprised you as he drove down an off ramp.

“I forgave myself for it a long time ago. No one could have changed a thing.” You sat up straight, giving him your attention. 

“Then why won’t you ever talk about it? I’ve thought you blamed yourself for years.” He smiled, a sad smile that made your gut ache.

“Because you don’t tell your child you hate their mother. You don’t raise a child to have hatred, even when it’s deserved. I love you too much to put that on you, make you cynical, afraid. But you’re right. You’re not a little girl and you’ve had some crappy life experiences all on your own. So the reason I never talked about how I felt is because I hate that bitch and I didn’t want my little girl to grow up with that. I wanted her to be understanding and have faith in the good in the world and to believe in the good crap. Why do you think I made you go to therapy as a kid? I needed to know that bitch didn’t put a dark mark on your heart that you’d carry with you. And maybe you thought I blamed myself but I will take your pity because that means you are kind and good and I did my job as a parent.”

You stared at him, his eyes hidden by the sides of his sunglasses but you felt him look in your direction. “I…thank you for telling me the truth.”

“You’re old enough to know,” he said. 

“For the record, I hate her too.” Now he was definitely looking, pulling to a stop at a sign, ignoring the line of cars behind him. He lifted his shades, worry in his green eyes. “I always understood her actions. But she hurt you and that pissed me off. As far as I’m concerned, all I ever had was you and Dee. You and my real mom. That woman that made me was an egg donor and that’s it. She never cared about either one of us and then she hurt you as much as me and the bitch can rot in hell for all I care.” 

“You always were protective of me, even when you were a kid,” he said softly, pulling his shades down and driving again. “You got that from me.”

“I got everything from you.” He reached over and ruffled your hair, trying to hide his grin. “You have to ruin the moment don’t you?”

“Absolutely. Far too sappy of a morning so far. So no more worrying about me alright?” he asked.

“Deal. Well, at least for that,” you said, his ruffling turning into a full on hair attack. “Dad! I have to work! I can’t look like shit!”

“Oh I’ll get one of the hair and makeup girls to fix it for you.” You huffed, pointing out the window at a building, earning a groan from him. “No.”

“Yes. You ruined my hair. Payback’s a bitch.”

“We get breakfast at work.” You crossed your arms, an overly dramatic sigh escaping him as he turned off the road and pulled into a parking spot. “Ten minutes. Max.”

“We’ll be in and out. Promise.”

“Good morning!” said Crew when you walked on set. You had your hood up, your hair still a hot mess while you sipped on your black coffee from dunkin donuts. You blinked slowly at him as your dad walked past you with a few boxes of munchkins. “I stopped at Starbucks on the way in. I could have-”

“This demon child doesn’t like starbucks. Something is wrong with her. Truly.”

“I like dunkin donuts. Black,” you mumbled as you noticed Crew was holding two cups in his hand, one of them filled with whipped cream and something syrupy looking. “What is that?”

“Uh…a peppermint mocha…for you,” he said, holding it out cautiously. “I knew you were coming in early today and thought you might like something special…” he trailed off as you stared at it. Carefully you took a lick of the whip cream as he held the cup, Crew’s eyes wide as you bent down and slowly straightened. 

“I like whip cream. But not in my coffee,” you said, offering a tired smile. “I’ll make an exception today.”

“Uh,” he repeated, still holding the cup. You held up your hands, a cup in one hand, boxes of mini donuts in the other. “Oh. Oh! Your hands are full. That makes more…sense.”

You grinned, blinking away the sleep in your eyes. “Did you think I was making a sexual gesture Crew?” You slipped past him and smirked. “What a filthy mind you have…” You turned and went back, licking at the whipped cream again.

“You’re fucking with me. Aren’t you.” You licked your lips, Crew watching the motion closely.

“Me? No, no. I’d never dream of it,” you said. “Thank you for the coffee Crew. You can leave it in hair and makeup. I’ll find it.”

“I’ll get you black next time. Extra whip cream.” You pouted but found yourself smiling, Crew returning it. “Later, kid.”

“Later, Foxe.”

It was a long day and you were actually quite grateful for Crew’s sugary coffee when it was night time and you were still shooting. There’d been issue after issue today that delayed filming but the crew appreciated the donuts you and your dad had brought in for a treat that morning. Your boss had told you that you could go home a few hours ago but you knew they were doing the big car stunt in the night and the shots of that would be great promotional material for the next season.

“Jensen. Crew,” called the director. Both of them hopped up from their seats in the tent shoved in an alley between buildings. You followed after with your camera around your neck, settling into where you wanted to be for your shots. You were past the camera rigging and after discussing with stunts earlier, you knew where a safe place to stand would be as the car drove past you.

But while you watched the two of them take their marks in the middle of the road, something nagged at your gut. You glanced over your shoulder at the stunt car, eyeing it suspiciously while the director and a producer talked to Crew and your dad much farther down the street.

“Hi,” you said to the stunt driver, the man giving you a tired nod. “How’s the car running?”

“Hm?”

“How’s the car handling? I imagine it’s much rougher than a normal car.”

“Stunt cars are normally bare bones. They get beat to shit,” he said. “You’re the new photographer? Jensen’s kid?”

“Yeah,” you said, holding up the camera. “You mind if I get a few shots of you and the car for behind the scenes stuff?”

“Go for it,” he said. You didn’t bother to pose him and he didn’t seem to mind given it was close to midnight and this was his last shot of the night. He did give you a strange look though when you got down on the ground and took a picture of the undercarriage. “I’m getting the signal. I got to go.”

You let him get in the car as you sat back on your knees, glancing through your photos. You quickly stood and walked in front of the car, the guy getting halfway out. “Kid, you can’t stand there. You have to-”

“You know who’s in charge of the stunt cars?” He stared at you like you were an idiot. “Who is in charge of the stunt cars?”

“Y/N! Get out of the damn way!” shouted a producer from down the street. 

“Not until I can talk to whoever is in charge of these cars!” you shouted back. Suddenly the director, two producers, someone from stunts and both Jensen and Crew were headed your way.

“It’s your funeral,” muttered the stunt guy, shutting the door and leaning back against it. 

“What the hell is going on? Get out of the way, Ackles,” said the producer. 

“Over my dead body I move,” you said, waiting until everyone was within earshot, ignoring the producer that was growing louder and more impatient with each passing second.

“Jensen deal with your fucking child,” said that producer when your dad got closer. His eyebrows shot up, a dry laugh escaping him. “I’m not joking. She only got this job-”

“She got this job because she’s a good photographer, dickhead,” said your boss who’d jogged over. 

“Now that’s the second time in two days you’ve insulted her. First it was yesterday when a fucking safety protocol was missed. Granted, it was a minor one but she could have been seriously injured and now today-”

“She’s holding up a fucking scene! We only have an hour before we have to pay everyone-”

“Are you worried about fucking overtime right now?” barked back your dad. “This is not the first time I have-”

“Don’t you pull that lead actor shit on me, pretty boy. I was doing this when-”

“Oh, don’t start, Todd. You have a history of harassing younger staff and I never wanted you to join this season.”

“I fucking knew it was you who-”

“Y/N, why won’t you move?” asked Crew calmly.

“She’s a diva like her father,” said the producer.

“She’s doing us a fucking favor filling in last second like she is, putting her own business on hold for it. Show some damn respect,” said your boss.

“She’s holding up a scene!” shouted the producer.

“Because the air smells like fish oil,” you said. The producer threw up his hands as your dad and the stunt coordinator stared at you. 

“Whoopey-di-fucking-doo. There’s stale fish in a trash-”

“Leaking break fluid smells like fish oil,” you said, turning around your camera, showing them the screen. “And that is a leak, forming a puddle under this car you were about to drive at your two lead actors at high speed.”

“That’s bullshit. That’s-”

“She’s right,” said the stunt coordinator, wiping a hand over his face. “That’s what that smell is.”

“How the fuck does she know-”

“My diva father taught me on our muscle car. But I’m just a diva photographer that only got this job because of her daddy, right? What do I know?” you said, giving the producer your best bitch face. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Crew trying to hide a smile while your dad wore the one on his face proudly. 

“I…” said the producer, turning to the stunt coordinator. “This is your fault.”

“This was an accident. You have a flaw in your safety check with the stunt cars. All you have to do is fix it,” you said calmly. “But the way you spoke to me this morning and then now-”

“What the fuck did he say to you this morning?” said your dad.

“He told me I wasted time yesterday and I wouldn’t be paid for the full day.”

“You told a union member you were docking her pay?” said your boss.

“She’s not in the fucking union. She’s-”

“She joined the union when she was in college during an internship and she kept up her dues,” said your dad, turning to your boss. “I’m not a manager but it sounds like he crossed a line with your union employee.”

“I was just-”

“There are rules for a reason, to protect employees from assholes like you. She had a medical emergency, caused by this fucking set. You’re lucky she’s not suing,” said your dad.

“You’re fired.” Everyone turned to the other producer who hadn’t said a word, his eyes locked onto Todd’s. “You’ve been on the job a week and I’ve already had too many complaints from young employees about you. Now you threaten to illegally dock pay. Pack up your shit and leave. You’ll get a nice compensation package so just fucking leave.”

Todd didn’t say a word as he walked away. It was only then that you realized Crew had come up to your side, his hand on your lower back steadying you when you breathed deeply.

“Sorry for my language,” you said quietly, glancing down.

“You don’t have anything to worry about, Y/N,” said the producer. “And I’m making an executive decision. No stunts with vehicles until every single one of them is checked and extra precautions are taken going forward.”

“We can make the scene work without that one shot,” said the director. “We already have the one of the stunt guys. Jensen and Crew will just show a bit more emotion on their faces when we cut to them lying in the road, right guys?”

“Of course,” said Crew, your dad giving a nod as he looked at you. 

“Sorry,” you said again. He shook his head with a smile.

“Don’t apologize. God, don’t apologize for standing up for Crew and mine’s safety. You did the right thing,” said your dad.

“I could have just said something and not…now you’re down a producer and it’s my fault. I-” 

“He made his own bed. As a producer we’re all responsible for on set safety and he tried to pass the buck onto stunts. I’m Nolan by the way and if photography ever doesn’t do it for you anymore, consider management because you sure as shit got the backbone for it.”

“Uh, thank you,” you said, pursing your lips. “So uh, can we go back to work so the rest of the crew isn’t awkwardly staring at us anymore?”

“I think that’s a good idea. We’ll need to write up an incident report but we can do that in the morning with fresh eyes,” said Nolan. “Nice catch, Y/N.”

“Hey,” said your dad when he and Crew guided you to walk with them down the street towards where they’d want to be filming now. “How’d you smell that fluid from so far away? I didn’t notice until we were next to the car.”

“I didn’t. I had a funny feeling something was off so I made an excuse to get closer to the car. Then I noticed the smell and took a picture underneath and saw the leak,” you said. 

“She’s always had a sixth sense about that sort of thing,” he said to Crew.

“I guess this means I owe you coffee every morning for like, ever?” joked Crew. 

“I’ll settle for you guys being okay,” you said, closing your eyes. “I have to find a new spot to shoot from. I’ll see you guys later.”

“Honey bun.” You stopped in your tracks, spinning around. “Proud of you for trusting your instincts and standing up for us and yourself.”

“I second that like, a gajillion times,” said Crew. 

“Thanks guys. Now get back to work so we can all get home.”

“Alright, alright,” you heard as you woke up that night, about three hours after you’d finished work. You must have been screaming, eyes screwed tight as you clutched your blankets to your chest. The bed dipped behind you and a pair of strong arms wrapped around your torso. “I got you, baby. Daddy’s here. You’re safe.”

“I should have told you I didn’t want to go to the park,” you said, fighting back tears, your heart thundering. “I had the same feeling I had tonight but I didn’t listen.”

“You were seven years old, honey bun. You never did a single thing wrong.” He shushed you, the door creaking and shutting gently. 

“I woke you up. You’re so tired and you have work,” you whined, burying your face in your pillow, hiding away from him. “I’m so sorry.”

“Come on,” he said, releasing you for only a moment before you were back in his arms and he was carrying you along with your blankets out of the room and down the hall. 

“I’m twenty five, dad,” you cried, tucking your face into his neck. “You don’t have to do this anymore.”

“And I don’t give a shit how old you are. I’m not leaving you alone tonight. End of discussion.” You fisted a hand in his shirt, wetting it, not opening your eyes as you were tucked between his warm body and your mom’s in their bed. Gentle fingers ran over your head, more sobs wracking your body. “Talk to us. Come on, baby. You know it’ll help.”

“You could have died and Crew could have died and it would have been my fault cause I thought something was wrong. You got hurt when I didn’t listen to it before,” you said, trying to pull the blankets over your head but he wouldn’t let you. “If I’d listened when I was a kid it wouldn’t have happened and you wouldn’t have gotten hurt. I got you hurt and the only reason I was brave enough to say anything tonight was because I was so scared of it happening again.”

Suddenly you werre pulled upright, two strong hands on your arms, forcing you to stare at your dad. Tears streamed down your cheeks and your nose was a mess as you watched him shake his head. 

“That bitch hurt the both of us. You were the child and I was the adult. It was never on you to protect me. It never will be. I’m the one that failed you. I failed you and you never saw me as the bad guy. As the pathetic man I thought I was. You never made me feel less than even when I deserved it. Because you love me. Because it wasn’t my fault you’d tell me. It was hers. And I believed you. I clung to the word of that seven year old and I still do. If I can believe you, then you can believe me. Neither one of us could have stopped it. And I’m goddamn proud of you for protecting Crew and me tonight. I know you hated that, hated standing up like that to people with so much control. You weren’t brave because you were afraid of me being hurt. You were brave because you know you’ll risk getting hurt to do the right thing. You’ll risk your job to make sure I’m okay. Because you care. You have been a brave little badass since you were seven years old. I will never be afraid of you not standing up for yourself or other people. So stand up for yourself, Y/N. It was not your fault. You were not supposed to stop the unstoppable.”

You sniffled, feeling small and like you were that little girl again, spending the night in his bed, terrified to leave his side, him terrified to leave yours.

He wiped off your face with his palms, tucking your hair behind your ears, running his hand over your head. “Tell me you believe me, honey bun.”

“I do,” you said quietly, a barely there smile on his face. Your mom hugged your from behind as he pulled you both into his chest. “Do I have to go to therapy again?”

“Because you have one nightmare after a hard night? No. And you make those choices now, not us,” he said, kissing the top of your head. 

“How can you love someone who’s half someone you hate?” you asked, resting your chin on his shoulder. 

“You are genetically half hers. But that’s it. The rest of you is all me, all Dee. I’ll love you with every ounce of my soul until the day I die and every day of wherever I go after that too. Blood doesn’t automatically mean family. Not at all.”

“I know,” you whispered, reaching an arm back to hug your mom. “I’m glad you taught me about Baby even though I complained the whole time.”

“Me too. And Crew.”

“Do you think he’s okay?” you asked. “Cause of the accident and everything.”

“He’s alright, I made sure before I left him tonight.” You nodded, your heart finally calming. 

The next thing you knew you were waking up in the middle of their king sized bed alone, stretching as you saw the clock was close to eight, mom dropping the other guys off at school. You snuggled back down into the bed, clutching a pillow to your chest when the door opened.

“Hey,” said your dad, lightly patting your cheek. “Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey.”

“Unless you’ve made me eggs and bacon, that is a cruel greeting,” you groaned, blinking open your eyes to find him walking across the room towards his closet in a towel and with damp hair. “You have far more trust in that towel than I do.”

“You do realize you’ve seen me naked only several thousand times? I was a single father for a while you know.”

“Remember when I asked why you had a tail,” you giggled. “I thought you were part dog or something. Like a werewolf.”

“I remember when you kicked me in the nuts so hard I nearly passed out in the tub. Nearly ensured you were my only heir,” he chuckled from inside the closet.

“You were a good dad back then too,” you said, hearing the sound of clothes shifting stop. “I mean, you took baths with me and let me sleep in your bed and took me to school and you did everything, even when you must have been exhausted.”

“I was young and I was not perfect. I know that. You probably know it too. But I wasn’t striving for perfection. If you were clean and fed and happy and safe, I was happy too.” He stepped out of the closet in a pair of jeans and a black henley t-shirt, crossing his arms. “It helped having a good kid. Made things easier.”

“I am pretty amazing,” you said, yawing and closing your eyes again.

“And so modest too,” he said, slapping your thigh. “Up or I’ll tell Karl Urban you think he’s hot.”

You immediately sat up, giving him a death glare. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“How about Josh Duhmel? Stephen Amell? We can tell Quaid you think he’s a cutie with a cute ass. I got a whole laundry list of famous people I know that you think are hot. Your move.”

“You’re evil, father,” you said, gathering up your blankets and walking for the door. “But I respect it.”

“I need to pass along my evil tendencies to at least one of you,” he chuckled, catching the edge of your blanket, stopping you halfway out the door. You glanced up at him, his green eyes soft. “You okay?”

“Thanks for making me talk about it,” you said. He pulled you into a hug, kissing your temple. “Father.”

“Daughter.”

“I appreciate the moment but I really need to go pee, like now.” He released you and you took off down the hall. “I’ll be ready in ten!”

“So be ready to go in twenty. Got it.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 4 here!

#jensen x daughter!reader #Jensen x daughter!reader series #Jensen Ackles #daughter!reader #reader x omc

[hopefulatrocity]

From The Ashes Masterlist

Summary: Pheonyx Greene is the oldest of the Greene siblings. He’s always been different than the rest of his family; having endured abuse from his biological father as a kid and growing up as bisexual/transgender in conservative rural Georgia. He finds himself on the family farm recovering from top surgery when the world falls apart. As the dead begin to rise, Pheonyx finds himself becoming the sole protector of the farm as his family lives in denial about the Shadows of loved ones past. His life is changed the day Rick Grimes shows up on the farm, and shortly after a certain gruff archer as well. Daryl is drawn to younger man but how does he deal with the internal prejudices he’s grown up with?

Series CW/TW: Homophobia/transphobia/biphobia, zenophobia/racism/sexism(Merle), age gap romance(11yr difference. Pheonyx is 28, Daryl is 39 ), sexual assault/rape, child molestation, canon character deaths, body mutilation, child abuse, torture, hunting, smut 18+( P in V, unprotected sex(please practice safe sex!), creampie, breeding kink, rough sex, marking/biting, oral sex, sub/dom undertones), animal deaths(NOT KISMET), scars, blood, corpses, depression/anxiety, body dysphoria, religious trauma, menstruation mentions

AO3 FF.net

Playlist (Songs that remind me of Pheonyx/the story, or just songs I listen to while writing in general)

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

#twd daryl #daryl x oc #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon x trans!reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon masterlist #daryl dixon x omc #daryl dixon x oc #daryl x ftm oc #daryl x male oc #daryl dixon x trans!oc

[grogusmum]

THRO-BACK THURSDAY FIC RECS! (8/3/23)

Here we are my first week of Thro-back fics!

This is not all the ric recs I got, so if I didn't get to yours, know that I will!!

Remember y'all, the point of this is to spread some love with comments and reblogs!! So feel free to bookmark this collection in your likes, but when you read a fic from it- please show that fic some love!!! REBLOG!

So many gorgeous fic to read-

Not Alone Enough @pebblesmustard gorgeous hurt/comfort type piece featuring Jack Daniel's x omc!Mateo. As I said in my comment on my reblog of the fic- I want to gather up Mateo and help mend his heart, but he has a much more capable cowboy already on the job. I hope I get to read more of these to some day!

Eyes Open by @radiowallet

We've got another Marcus Moreno x ofc fic in the house!!

I'm so glad this was recced, because it's something I've been meaning to start. I've only just read the first chapter because I want to get to everyone's rec if I can, so I've only gotten the table set, but Cat has me hooked right away! I love the dynamic between the pair. Our ofc, Amy, is a fun pair of shoes to step in. I can't wait to read more!

Okay next we've got one I've read, actually, and I'm so glad to see it again!

Not a Monster, Not Alone by @beecastle , it's a fix it fic with Ellie and Sam, and I'm guessing you know what's being fixed here!

This is what they derserved!

Here is another that I've read and love to death- happy to give it a fic rec bump from my one of my favorite persons and my favorite writer @oonajaeadira

This Will Be The Day That I Spy with Jack Daniels x chemist!f!reader

As always Adirela brings her secret sauce and slathers it all over this over the top cowboy and just makes my heart yearn!!

As I said, when I read it the first time, I love this cowboy smooth and sweet as pulled taffy!

Oh!! THE BANTER! It can not go unsung! This is top-notch banter.

Last but certainly not least is a pair of fics by @yourcoolauntie featuring my space husband Din Djarin x f!Reader

The descriptions I this fic are beautiful, but y'all let me just say-

Kitchen shave and haircut... Kitchen. Shave. And. Haircut.

For a heartbroken Din in need of comfort and care.

Please, my gumdrop heart! (Plus, some grade A smut!)

An Act of Grace

Something Divine

#hazels thro back thursday fic recs #pedro pascal #fic recs #din djarin x f!reader #jack daniels x f!reader #ellie and sam #ellie williams #jack daniels x omc #marcus moreno x ofc

[boliv-jenta]

Nico x f!reader x OMC

Part of the Kitten series.

Warnings: Smut, cockwarming. Idiots in love. Angst. Bad language.

WC:3.3k

Summary: For better or worse. Things between you and Nico come to a head.

For @prolix-yuy, thank you for caring as much about these idiots as I do.

Release

It had been three days since you had stood at Nico's door. Three days of you warring with yourself.

You had no damn right to be jealous. It was you that put a stop to everything. Nico had a high sex drive, Angelo wasn't about, you weren't available, it was completely reasonable that he'd find someone else to meet his needs. Someone who sounded delightful. The smile was clear in her voice as she asked him if it felt good. She'd giggle as he moaned again in response. That was all you heard before your sense of decency drove you away. Nico had offered to share his office with you so you could work on your paper, you hadn't taken him up on his offer before.

Now you sat curled in a ball on his leather desk chair sobbing and cursing your own stupidity. Nico had said from the beginning he didn't do tenderness. His wife's picture was still hung on his wall above you. Had you really been so desperate to be desired and loved, that you made up Nico's side of this unspoken love? Using the restroom to freshen up you headed out to the one person who feelings you were certain about.

"Angelo, you really know how to treat a girl. Hmm." You sighed happily. 

"I know how to treat my girl. Can you take one more?"

"No, I'm completely full. I shouldn't."

"Oh, you can. Come here." He held another truffle up to your lips. 

"Come on, you can always open wide for me usually."

"Angelo!" A wet slap sounded as you pushed at his bare chest. "This has been wonderful. Thank you." A quick kiss to his lips sealed your gratitude.

"No problem. From the sound of it you needed the break. And you know, the sex." He rolled his hips under you. His hard length had been nestled inside you for the last half hour. After making you cum with his fingers, he'd been content to just sit there while he fed you. The hums of delight and the occasional swipe of your tongue over his fingers kept him hard.

"That's not the only thing I came for."

"No?" He thrust up suddenly.

"No!....I need my nails painted. You do a better job."

"Oh is that all? I'll take my cock back out then."

"No. Don't." You giggled. An honest to goodness giggle. Something you needed.

"You want me to keep it in? Huh? Tell me." He challenged.

"Keep it in, please." A shyness came over you.

"Keep what in?"

"Your cock. Keep it in me." You spoke in hushed tones.

"What? I didn't catch that, Baby." He goaded you.

"Angelo, please, please, keep you big, thick, incredibly pretty cock buried in my cunt!" The bottle of wine you'd shared made your declaration even louder than you intended.

"I guess we have company." Owen's voice came from down the hall.

"Oh! Oh my god!" In embarrassment you hid your face in Angelo's neck. Who simply chuckled while tickling your sides lightly.

"It's okay, he knows it's you. It's fine." He laughed as he held you close. "We're just taking a relaxing bath."

"Good clean fun, huh?" Owen's tone told you he knew exactly what you were doing with his boyfriend. It was one thing to know Owen knew and was okay with. It was a whole other thing to be sat with his boyfriend leaking pre-cum inside you as they had a chat. 

"I'm going to go take a shower myself. Then I'll order dinner. Italian?" Owen carried on the conversation like it was nothing.

"Italian?" Angelo asked you quietly. Once you nodded he answered Owen. "Sounds great. I love you."

"I'll order it now. I love you too." Came Owen's reply.

Angelo caught how you wistfully looked after Owen. 

With a sigh he lifted you up off his lap. 

"What? I thought this was okay?" Confusion flooded you as Angelo gripped your shoulders. His gentle brown eyes fixing on yours. 

"Nico's an idiot. Actually no, you both are."

"What?" 

"The two of you. You are so clearly in love with each other but neither of you will admit it. You can't survive without a buffer to hide your feelings." Your mouth opened but you had nothing. All you could do was sit there and let him call you out. 

"Look, I get it. Nico's been through…well hell. And you, I get it. A lifetime of putting up with misogyny. All that negativity from your family. Then to have your world turned upside down. I know you're unsure of yourself but so is he. There is nothing that says you have to have your shit together before you fall in love. If that were a thing, no one would get to. Instead of trying to fix yourselves on your own, why not help fix each other?"

"Angelo…."

"No. I'm asking what is the worst that can happen?"

"I could lose him. I could lose you."

"You could lose us anyway. Nothing is guaranteed to us. So you play it safe. You keep your feelings buried and what? Lose him anyway by driving him away? I love you, Sweetheart. I really do. I want to say you're like a sister to me but given that you came on fingers half an hour ago that would be one fucked up family."

Giggles let out some of your nervous energy. Covering your mouth with your hand you felt the tears you didn't realise had slipped from you.

"But you mean so much to me. So does Nico. I love our little arrangement but the two of you are weird around Owen and if I have to choose between the two of you and him. I think I'd have to choose him."

"Wow." The seriousness of their relationship hit you.

"Yeah. So fix yourselves please." He wrapped your hand in his as he made a pleading gesture.

"I'll try. I love you too, mi ángel." You kissed his hands wrapped around yours.

"Good. I'm not surprised. I am delightful."

"More bread?" Owen offered. 

"No, thank you and thank you for having me." The guilt had you being extra appreciative. The fear of him calling you on your relationship with Nico had kept you away from Owen. In reality he had only even been welcoming and warm. He asked about you and listened intently as you spoke. When he spoke about his, clearly impressive, life he did so with such grace and humility. He had volunteered around the world. Helping hundreds of people over the years. He'd been happily married for two decades before they'd separated amicably after growing apart. They had three beautiful children, all of them grown and successful. He showed you a video of his granddaughter saying that she loved him. The pride showed on his face. He really did seem wonderful. A perfect match for Angelo. A strong, level headed nurturer with a good heart. It was clear they worked well together. Angelo was confident but he tended to have little crises of confidence. When he refused a second piece of bread, Owen reassured him that he was beautiful. Placing the bread within reach of Angelo he didn't force the subject and allowed Angelo to take the bread when he wanted to. Owen gave him a soft smile when he did so. Once dinner was finished, Angelo set about cleaning up.

"Can I help?" You began to rise from your seat.

"No, you're our guest. I wash up. It's Owen's least favourite chore." Angelo gathered the last of the dishes.

"I don't mind dusting and vacuuming." Owen told you while topping off your glass.

"Which I hate, so it works." Angelo shuffled the plates in his hands to lean down and kiss Owen. "You two just relax. Get to know each other."

The way Angelo looked at Owen pointedly, you wondered what his idea of 'getting to know each other' was. It wouldn't surprise you if he meant sex and Owen was handsome but that would be a step too far for you at the moment. Or would it help? Owen had the same authoritative energy as Nico. Maybe detaching some of your new found confidence and tastes from Nico would help clear your head? Before you could get yourself twisted up any further Owen spoke. "Angelo wants me to reassure you. About my job."

"Oh?" Suddenly you regretted not taking that second piece of bread. Maybe the extra weight of it would cause you to sink through the floor. 

"He seems to think it makes you uncomfortable. I get it. I diagnosed people with mental health issues. It makes people understandably uncomfortable but I'm not a mentalist. I can't guess what's in your head from a few cues. Any deep dark secrets you have are safe around me." He really did seem wonderful as he reassured you.

"Thank you." Your shoulders felt a little lighter. At least your relationship with Angelo was on better ground.

"Not to overstep but Angelo has mentioned that you've had some troubles lately. If you ever need someone to talk to I could recommend some wonderful people. Or if it wouldn't be too awkward, I would always listen." 

"Thank you for the offer. It's very nice of you.

"Any time. If I could offer you some advice, not as a professional but as an old man, things don't have to be as complicated as we make them." Angelo seemed to have told him a lot. 

You couldn't blame him. Owen was his partner, they seemed to be building a life together. 

The apartment had been Owen's. The colours of the walls, floors and fittings were white and shades of grey. All very calm and neutral. Then in each room a pop of colour had been added. That painting in the hall was from Paris, Angelo had told you all about his trip. Angelo's favourite flowers, tulips, sat in the living room and their bedroom. Their tastes were contrasting but they could also be complementary. Angelo's colours shone against Owen's neutrality. They made it work.

"How are my favourite people getting on?" Angelo carried a tray of coffee in and set it on the table. 

"Great." The night hadn't been what you expected but it seems to have been what you needed. Just because your marriage hadn't worked out and Nico had been through so much it didn't mean you couldn't make something together. Even shattered glass can make a beautiful mosaic. 

"We're just fine, Honey." Owen patted the seat next to him. Kissing Owen on the forehead as he filled it, Angelo gave you a smile.

The last year played over in your head on the cab ride home. Meeting Nico, taking a risk on him. Discovering a whole new world of pleasure, of trust, of power. Getting into touch with your needs and being honest about them had opened you up emotionally. It forced you to look at what you really wanted in life and not just settle for what you were given. The people at your college noticed. You were taking more risks with your research papers, pushing your work in bold new directions. No longer content to just be there and get on. No, you went for what you wanted. All this time you had been worried about not being the person you were supposed to be yet. Somehow Nico always saw them. Nico with his honesty and bluntness. He cut through all the pieces of you that were rearranging and got to the heart of you. Everything else was just superficial.

When you pulled up there was another car outside. Walking to the front door you paused. What if it was more company for Nico? Maybe the delightful sounding woman? There was still enough wine in your system to make you lose it if you saw her. You'd wondered if she was prettier. Smarted. Better. No, it didn't matter if she was. You were enough and you'd be enough for someone, even if it wasn't Nico. Holding your head high you unlocked the door. 

Nico murmuring happily caught your attention first. It took a second for it to register so you were through the door before you could turn back. Nico sat in the living room with a pretty young woman massaging his hand. He turned his attention to you for a moment introducing you to Aurora, like it was completely normal that she was sitting on the living floor touching his hand. 

Nico gave a relaxed groan. 

Aurora let out a giggle. The giggle. "Sorry, you are just one of my most responsive clients. I wish they were all as in touch with their bodies and as open to stimulation. How did you sleep after our last session?"

"Pretty well. Thank you."

"Good. Well, our time is up. I'll see myself out. You just take a moment to be present and relax."

"Thank you, Aurora."

"You are welcome. I'll see you at our next appointment. Lovely to meet you. Bye." Aurora waved at you as she left. She was prettier, smarter, better than you. You bet she would have thought that there was another explanation for the man you thought was in love with you jumping into bed with someone else.

"Sorry. Reflexology. It's a new thing I'm trying. How was your day at Angelo's?"

Nico walked past you, still standing in the living room, to wash his hands in the kitchen. 

"Good. Him and Owen are doing good. It's nice to see. You should come over there next time." His shoulders slumped as he dried his hands. Preparing to defend Owen you were blindsided by his next sentence. "Maybe you can move it with them for a while?"

"Why?" Your voice barely made it out.

"It's just not working out. We were using each other for sex right? Now we're not. It's kind of uncomfortable. There's no reason for you to stay." He didn't look at you as he tossed the towel he was using and began tidying the kitchen.

"Yeah." There was no way you were letting him see you upset. You'd given too many men the satisfaction of that lately. "Yeah,you're right. I'll…er…pack my stuff in the morning. I don't have much here. I'm sure Angelo will let me stay a night or two. Then I'll work something out"

Your tone came out relatively normal.

"I'll drive you up there if you like?" He finally looked in your direction.

"Thanks." You willed yourself to walk to your room before any tears could escape.

Stopping abruptly, you whirled on him.

"Actually, no. Not thanks, fuck you! I know we lie to each other but we don't actually lie. We pretend that we don't feel like we do but we never actively tell a lie. You've always been honest with me. Even to the point of sounding like an asshole but you've never been cruel."

Leaning against the counter he took a beat to absorb your words. "Fuck. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He began to pace the small cornered off area of the kitchen. 

"You know what, this is who I am! I'm an asshole sometimes. Sometimes I'm cruel. This is what I'm trying to protect you from. I don't know why you want you to get to know me beyond fucking me." His movements were frantic at this point. 

"I'm not worth it. My wife died and I couldn't handle it. I've seen people go through worse and survive and I just stopped. I stopped living. I stopped caring. I just chased one meaningless high after another."

"So I'm a meaningless high?" You couldn't help the hurt that slipped into your tone.

Nico noticed and instantly stilled. "No. You were…you are…more.

"And do you want more?" You moved forward as he avoided your eyes. "Do you want more, Nico?"

"Yes but…" he looked at you, his eyes brimming with tears.

"But nothing." You cupped his cheek, wiping the tears as they fell.

"But what if I fuck up again. What if something happens and I just stop again? What if I hurt you?" His hand came up to cover yours. You weren't sure if he would move your hand away. For now they both stayed there.

"This whole time you've been teaching me to take my own pleasure. To not care what people think. To live on my own terms. Well, these are my terms. I know you won't hurt me on purpose. I am taking my pleasure how I want it. I'm staying. We are going to have sex like we used to. We're going to cook for each other and care for each other and be there for each other. No more pretending we don't feel the way we do. Got it?" Your breath rattled through you as you let it out.

"Yes, ma'am." He mock saluted you with his free hand.

"Good." You tried to sound calm and incontrol as your heart beat out of your chest. "So what's first, sex or letting me cook for you?"

"If you have to ask, maybe you do need to get to know me better." He smiled against your lips. "Hey, you're shaking. Come here."

"Well, it's been a bit of a week." You admitted into his neck. 

"I know. I'm sorry I should have said something. I should have been honest. It's one of my better, or worse depending on your view, traits."

"It's not your fault. I was the one who started it. Then I heard Aurora in your room and thought…"

"With Aurora? She's lovely but much, much too young."

"I didn't know that at the time. I just thought you needed to…"

"Well, I did hire her to help in that area I suppose. I couldn't sleep without a release. I thought I'd try and work around my therapist's advice."

"Why? What did she advise?"

"Funnily enough, honesty. She told me to just get it all out there."

"Get what out there?"

"That I love you. That I want to be with you. That I know I'm still a bit of a fixer upper but I want to try with you." He stated it all like he was listing chores.

"Say the first part again?" You blinked at him.

It was his turn to shake. His voice quivered as he asked. "That I love you?" 

"Yes." Tears welled in your eyes for the third time that day. Thankfully, this time for a much better reason.

Taking your face in his hands, he kisses you softly, mouth closed just two presses of his lips to yours before looking deep into your eyes and speaking with his usual level of confidence. "I love you."

The broken pieces of your heart slammed together so fast that they sent a shock wave of emotion through you. It was hard to get the words out. "I love you, too."

Both dinner and sex were forgotten as you clung to each other. 

Nico finally got the release he'd been looking for all this time. He let go of his guilt. About being allowed to live while his wife died. About failing her. About squandering the life he had been given. He let it all go. As if it was the thing that had been holding him up, he slipped to the floor with you going willingly in his arms. 

The sun cast a final glow on the pair of you as it dipped below the horizon. Nico held you tight to his side, he occasionally pressed a kiss to your head as the two of you just sat together. There was no tension. No unspoken words hanging in the air. No one else involved. Just the two of you at the end of the day. Just what the two of you had  needed all along.

Author's Note: I'm giving these guys an ending for now. I will definitely be back to them, probably sooner rather than later. Thank you for reading.😘

Tags @kirsteng42 @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid2 @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @graciexmarvel @kinda-nobody @movievillainess721 @munsonownsmyass @mandoloriancookie @faceache111 @elegantduckturtle

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #nico house comes with a bird #nico x f!reader x omc #nico x f!reader

[kickingitwithkirk]

When the past won't let go

Summary: Sometimes there’s more to the story

Pairing: Cordell Walker x Reader

Word Count: 2511

Warnings: cursing, past memories, angst, personal conflict, mentions of death, revealing secrets

Square Filled: Forbidden Relationship @walker-bingo

A/N: This segment is told from Walker's POV

A/N II: part six of Duke x Reader/Cordell x Reader series of drabbles and stories for this bingo.

*Set between 2.05 Partners and Third Wheels & 2.06 Douglass Fir

*divider by @firefly-graphics

*no beta-all mistakes are mine

Walker

“Agent Graves knew Stan Morrison killed your wife...”

Those eight words turned my heart inside out again.

It was a good thing Micki showed up at that moment, she took one look and ordered me to take a walk before I lost my shit and hospital security got called. 

I ended up in one of the city's parks heading down a hiking trail that thankfully wasn’t busy this time of day came to an outcropping near the river, sat down, and took off my hat, letting it dangle between my legs, going back over that year.

The pain was followed by excessive drinking and extended workload, using both to numb me, barely going through the motions of life without actually being in it till the accident at home and decided it was best for all to leave, going undercover on Operation: Watch The Throne. 

After months of trying to make inroads, those two women came; Twyla Jean, who got me into the Kings through a fake relationship, and Y/N, the mystery piece who made me put in the work to crack open the door she used to keep everyone at bay.  

The one my memories, or is it my heart, refuses to release me from. 

Later Stan’s betrayal was exposed after years of friendship..hell, the man was family, sent us all into a tailspin cumulated with us standing upon that spot forced him to confess after Emily stumbled upon a drug haul he pulled the trigger on the kill shot to save his own skin from Northside Nation. 

All this time, now I’m wondering how many other things I’ve missed.

I peered through the view window to see Micki texting on her phone spotting me taps a finger to her lips, and came out quietly shutting the door.

“You cooled off?”

“Yeah, hey, thank you for giving me some time to sort stuff out.”

“Is it sorted?”

“For now. So did Y/N write anything else about Mannon?”

“She wrote down a few places he might be hiding but so far, no sign he’s been to any of them. The doctor came by and said she’ll be out tomorrow. I let Cap know and he’s arranging a safe house.”

“Okay, good.”

“So, you wanna tell me about it?”

“No.”

Micki’s eyebrow arched, “since when?”

I spy James coming down the hall, “how about not right now.” 

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Hold him to what?” James asked, “Cap, we all set?” Micki deflected.

“Everything’s set but I’d rather finish this discussion a little more privately,” he opens the door for her to enter first, “I called in a couple of favors and got the safe house in Buffalo.”

“That’s not in our jurisdiction,” Micki says and James lowers his voice, “I did some digging. It’s not been substantiated but it’s looking like Mannon may not only have informants in Austin but other law enforcement agencies, so we need to fly under the radar on this.”

“You’re thinking Graves is on the leaks?” 

“I could’ve told you that,” a scratchy voice answered.

“You’re supposed to be writing, not talking.” I sternly say and you give me that particular look hear James stifle a laugh before clapping my shoulder, “good luck with that.”

Next morning 

The nurse had finished going over discharge instructions when James dropped by with the safehouse details and informed us that the landlord had taken what Y/N had of value as payment for damages and tossed everything else. 

“My bag, y’all happen to confiscate it?” James shook his head, “I’m sorry, we didn’t find it.”

“What happened to the clothes I had on?”

“They had to cut your uniform off and you were barefoot.”

“Leave it to that sonuvabitch to take my last sixty-five bucks.” Y/N croaked out.

“I’ve already signed off on a purchase voucher for what you’ll need,” James said, “I’ll reach out to some contacts who can help with getting you back on your feet once we have Mannon in custody.”

Tugging at the robe-covered hospital gown, “wonder if they’ll let me keep this lovely ensemble, maybe get some of those awesome slippers to match since I don’t have a-pot to piss in.”

She broke off coughing and I grabbed the water cup, “that’s what you get for talking too much,” sticking the straw between her lips. “You can borrow my stuff till we get you some.”

“I’m no charity case, Ranger Walker,”  Y/N mumbled around the straw.

“Never thought you were.” 

Buffalo, TX

“Well, this is quaint.” 

Micki’s sarcasm wasn’t far off. 

The safe house turned out to be an older one-bedroom, one-bath ranch in the middle of nowhere with a pull-out and doorways I have to duck through.

“At least we got a clear view of the perimeter.”

“For once I’m happy it’s winter, makes it harder for anyone to hide, even in camo,” Micki commented. “We’ll still need to periodically check around that corpse of trees, looked pretty thick when we pulled in.”

“Let’s hope Mannon hasn’t caught on to our ruse and is following the decoy to Fredericksburg.” 

Micki opened the fridge, “whoever set this up didn’t leave much, I better do a supply run.”

“Why you?”

“Cause an almost 6’5” Sasquatch in Ranger clothes isn’t gonna stand out?”

“Good point. Head out-of-town so locals stay in the dark.”

“I’ll change and go to Palestine or Mexia,”  Micki grabs her bag and goes into the bedroom leaving the door cracked, “gotta feeling we'll be stuck here for a while, so I’ll double up on the groceries, especially with how much you pack away.” 

“Funny, where’s Y/N?”

Micki walked out slipping on her jacket and crossing her arms, “locked herself in the bath muttering something about preferring the hoosgow then stuck in an ace in the hole with a tenderfoot and blatherskite. She’s got quite the mouth on her.”

“Y/N tends to be colorful when stressed.”

 “What’s she like normally?”

“Sarcasm on a shingle.” Y/N sarcastically quips.

My breath hitched seeing you in my flannel and faded jeans, the type so worn in they’re almost too comfortable to take off, accentuating your curves that’ve haunted my dreams spot toes peeking out under the rolled cuffs.

“What’re you grinning at?”

“You ahh, you still wear that purple polish.”

“Right. I’m gonna get going,” I felt Micki’s scrutiny, mouthing behave, making mine downturn in response.

“I see Ramirez doesn’t tolerate any of your bullshine either.” 

Not giving me a chance to respond, you walk off to the cupboard finding the extra set of bedding and pillows come back, cocking your head for me to move.

“What’re you doing?”

“Making up the pullout.”

“Okay, but you’re not sleeping out here.”

“Why?”

“What’d ya mean why? You’re doubling up with Micki..”

“You two can double up in this dice house, I’m parking it out here!”

“The hell you are! Look, your ex has proven he can slip in and out of places undetected so until he’s in custody, we’re going to need to keep you within eyesight 24/7.”

“Ranger Walker, does that mean you’re personally gonna join me in the bath and scrub my back?”

“I..you..you know that’s not what I meant!”

“I’m not going to argue this one,” your voice is wearing out from overuse, “Y/N you probably aren't gonna believe me but I understand what a traumatic..”

“How am I supposed to believe anything coming from that mouth of yours?” Shit, the sheer vitriol in your voice.

 “I know this is my only chance at earning any trust from you again, and I‘m gonna be one hundred percent open and honest.” Sitting down I looked up at her with no filters, “remember me telling you about my wife?”

“You said she died in an accident.”

“Her name was Emily. The last time I saw her, she and a friend headed for the border, restocking supply stations. She called..she was so scared then I heard gunshots..I tried calling her back but I knew.”  

Fuck, feel like I’m gonna choke on my tongue.

“After the funeral, I buried myself in the job and the bottle. Finally, my family, James, and Stan Morrison did an intervention. I couldn’t be there anymore so I told them I was taking the undercover job outta town..and lost myself in those months. ”

I wasn’t expecting you to sit down next to me, let alone place your hand on my leg, and took the risk of placing my hand on top of yours.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes and have no right but I am asking you to give me, Cordell Walker, a chance to prove you can trust me.”

Days later

“How much more time does she need?” Micki snapped.

Y/N’s indecisiveness was wearing on all our nerves, seriously thinking of hitting that bottle I’d snuck in. 

Of course, it didn’t help this morning Micki decided to try talking, okay, she tried some psychoanalysis learned from Adrianna, leading to one helluva blowout that had me physically hauling Y/N outside like a sack of taters. 

Glancing away from you angrily pacing outside to an equally angry Micki, “as long as she needs. Look, we’re all tired and cranky..”

 “You think?” 

“We can’t push..”

“.. then implement those charms of yours Beau so we can..”

“Wrap this up and move on to the next case?” 

We both startled not hearing you come in, “gee, wish it was that easy for me, I’d love to be able to move on from this.”

“You’ve had ample opportunity to tell anyone in law enforcement..”

“If I had, I'd been dead a long time ago.”

“What?” 

“There’s a shitload more to this than you’ve been told.” 

“Walker, grab that bottle I know you’ve got, and let’s all get real comfortable,” Micki retrieved three cups and sat down.

“I don’t wanna discuss my personal goings-on so let’s start with what brought him here.” Y/N threw back her drink, “ya know why I ditched my real name?” 

“Your file wasn’t clear.”

“Because I wouldn’t play their reindeer games.” Not entirely sure where she was going and Micki appeared as puzzled as me. “Wait, you two really don’t know who my family are?”

“No.”

“Daddy got his start by helping certain elected individuals with their less-than-legal activities. In appreciation, they made him Senator Y/D/L/N.”

“One of the Senators who confirms PSC appointments,” Micki states, and I add, “PSC oversees DPS,” some more pieces click, “he found out about Stan’s illegal activities.”

Y/N tapped the side of her nose.

 “The mysterious appearance of pension funds also blipped on the Secret Services financial investigations radar but they didn’t have enough tangible evidence against Morrison.  It was sheer coincidence Eric was sent at the same time the Kings started robbing banks.” 

“The Kings started a few months before Walker went undercover.”

“No, they’d started small a few years ago, Clint wanted it down to a T before moving on to bigger game, that was Eric’s in. He came up with partnering with Northside; in exchange for laundering the money, they’d make a delivery or pickup while on the circuit, that’s how Clint, Crystal, and Jaxon got misdemeanor drug charges. When Twerp came in, Clint persuaded her into giving Northside banking information on the businesses they were interested in, like The Side Step and Carlos Mendoza's family businesses.”  

“Wow, gotta give it to Graves,” Micki interjects, “she’s better at burying shit than I’d given her credit for.” 

Y/N gave me a curious look, “you didn’t know any of this?”

“No, but it makes sense, what Stan said, this can’t go on. I thought it was my screwing up at home but I was already getting too close before going under, why he hoped that the Rodeo Kings would end me.”

“Just like Clint, might’ve called you family but didn’t stop him from turning if he thought you were a threat.”

Micki pointedly glares at Y/N, “and you blithely went along with them, not caring who got hurt..” 

Y/N shot outta her seat and disappeared outside.

Shit! 

I sat down next to Y/N and leaned back against the same corps trees that half circled a small pond hand her one of the mugs I’d brought. 

“Been out here awhile, thought you might need a warm-up.” She took a sip and smiled, “you’ve never forgotten what I like since that first time you offered me coffee.”

“My daddy told me before I got married, ‘son, the key to a happy marriage is never forget what a woman likes to drink’.”

Y/N sighed, “Clint always was crazier than a Kiowa Paint Mare, somewhere along the way, he got twisted. I never believed he’d take things that far, or hurt your family as he did.”

 “How’d you..”

“Trevor. He told me everything but your real name.”

“Clint blamed me for Crystal, for what happened that day, wanted me to understand what it was to suffer. If Trevor hadn’t interfered, I’da killed him with my bare hands.” 

“Then you’d have become him.”

“Hmph, I’ve been on the edge of that precipice more than once.” “But you didn’t jump,” she said, “your Jimmy Cricket didn’t let you.”

“Let your conscience be your guide Jimmy Cricket?”

“No, don’t know what else to call it. That something that stops you from stepping off the ledge of not coming back,” she shrugged.

“For me, it’s my family. No matter how hard it gets, they never gave up on me.”

Y/N starts playing with the chain for my dog tags, making the rational part of my brain holler at me this is wrong, she’s under my protection and off limits.

Irrational desire flames in me as her feathery touch makes my skin tingles, accept the invitation of tasting her sweet lips.

A hand covering my mouth instinctively made me grab their arm.

“Walker, it’s me,” Y/N whispered before removing her hand, “stay quiet, there are people moving around outside.”

“How many?”

“Not sure but I saw three night-sights.”

Shit, not good hear Micki stirring, “hey, we’ve got company.”

***

“Slow down but don’t stop,” I reach for my duffel from the floorboard.

“Walker, whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”

“Stick to the plan..”

“..you bailing out of a moving vehicle wasn’t..”

“He’s right,” Y/N grabs hers, “sticking together gonna get you killed. I’ll split, you two can say it was during the firefight and..”

“..I’m coming with you..”

 “..the hell you are..”

“..you are in my custody and my responsibility. Micki, got any extra cash on you?” 

I rifled through the wallet she tossed me, “get Liam to discretely look into Graves’s recent activities, got a feeling Mannon’s sudden appearance wasn’t random, and tell James I’ll be in contact in a few days.”

“Walker..”

“I know. Be careful Flor, we don’t know who to trust inside the circle anymore.” 

Glancing in the rearview mirror, “on three.”

SPN TAGS: @donnaintx @lyarr24 @flamencodiva @b3autyfuldisast3r @lassie-bird @nancyml @spnbaby-67 @leigh70

Sam/Jared: @idreamofplaid

#walkerbingo #cordell walker #cordell walker x reader #micki ramirez #liam walker #larry james #walker #walker texas ranger #omc #jared padalecki

[lilistayskz]

Name: Seo Yongsun

Height: 6' 0"

Build: Worked out in prison, so he's quite healthy.

Example: Choi Siwon from Super Junior. Handsome but intimidating.

Relationships: Seo Changbin - Son Lee Yongbok - Son (secret) Seo Yunho - Brother Seo Karina - Niece Seo Winter - Niece Lee Lina - Ex Backstory: Yongsun is the older brother of Seo Yunho. His acquaintances call him the 'Dragon', due to his temper and vicious tendencies with enemies. His brother and closest friends call him 'Sunny'. He is the head of the Seo Family, boss of the crime syndicate. He was incarcerated for murder for the last decade, but was released with the help of Police Captain Lee Jihoon. Regina and Peter Han are old friends. It is discovered that he is Lee Yongbok's biological father, though Felix does not know this yet. Sunny has closely cropped black hair, dark eyes, a few freckles across his face. He is said to look like Changbin in his cheeks and chin, but has the same sharp smile as Yongbok, with a thin scar that runs down his neck into his shirt. Bonus: I named this OC 'Yongsun' to allude to Yongbok's name. Yongsun means Head or Main Dragon, while Yongbok means Dragon's Breath or Scent.

#felix x reader #skz smut #ao3 fanfic #ao3 stuff #ao3 writer #ao3feed #archive of our own #lilistay #fan fiction #fanfic #what it is to burn #these things ive done #o serpent heart #reasons and excuses #original character #omc

[sgt-seabass]

𝒂 𝒕𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒂𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔

✧˚ · . a collaboration between @navybrat817 and sgt-seabass

Is this the way it's got to be? Ignite the fire inside of me. Embrace the life of tragedy. A tide of war and broken dreams. (x)

pairing — bucky barnes x reader w/c — 6.3k this is a dark fic. 18+ only. listening to —♫3 am walk

warnings — bucky barnes is a sweetheart, implied (consensual) smut, kidnapping, assault, violence against reader, mention of bodily injury, stabbing, knives, blood, bad guys being cunts, hydra exists, degradation, threat of non-con, whump, threat of violence against an animal (but the animal is not touched or harmed), death threats a/n — after months of brainstorming and writing together with Navy, this has finally been born. this piece is part of a larger AU we made together, so watch this space for more in the future.

Waking up next to Bucky was the easiest thing you ever did, because that was your happiest dream come true.

Even when his alarm blared before the sun had even considered rising, in the early hours when birds were still in their slumber, and the moon lit the bedroom with its ethereal glow, you would still give everything to wake up to the sleepy smile of your boyfriend.

You went to bed thinking of him as he ran his fingers down your back, helping ease you into a restful sleep, and you woke thinking of him as he tried to cover your eyes from his lit-up phone.

You both groaned, begging the stars for more time in bed. But as the incessant beeping filled the room, neither of you would get back to sleep soon.

Bucky was an Avenger. And that meant he had to go save the world. But that didn’t make it any easier when he had to leave for missions.

As Bucky leaned over to turn his phone off, you wrapped your arms around him, spooning him with your chin on his shoulder. “You could just stay home.”

Something in your gut was calling to you, warning you that he needed to stay home. It made you fearful. What if he got hurt?

In hindsight, it was you who needed the protection.

Bucky sighed, turning off the annoying buzzing of his phone. “You know I want to. But I can’t. Duty calls, sweetheart.”

God, you’d never get sick of the gravelly twinge to his voice in the mornings.

“Steve and Sam need backup,” he yawned, rolling over so he could cradle your head to his firm chest as he lay on his back, allowing you to smell the fading scent of his cologne.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine on their own,” you smiled, placing a kiss on his pec. Bucky’s habit of sleeping in only boxers always had you wanting to kiss him all over. Covering him in your affections was always tempting, even when he got shy, especially around his scarred shoulder.

“Baby, stop it,” Bucky almost whined, like a toddler tempted with treats. “Please don’t make this harder for me.”

“Sorry,” you placated, that nauseous feeling in the pit of your stomach not easing as your eyes adjusted to the dark room.

Outside, you could hear the occasional car and pedestrian. But for the most part, Brooklyn was asleep. It was a peaceful silence between you, enjoying each other’s touch while it began drizzling rain outside.

“Well, it’s raining. Now you’ll just have to stay home.” You cheekily nipped at Bucky’s side before shuffling up to kiss his stubbled cheek.

“Is that so?” Bucky chuckled, eyes crinkling in your favourite show of joy.

“Mhm. No missions on rainy days,” you said matter-of-factly with a serious look on your face, a look you couldn’t hold when Bucky tickled your sides. You burst into giggles, gasping softly when Bucky rolled you under him so he towered over you, your body caged between his bulky arms.

“That’s too bad. I thought you were going to have a fun day with Natalia.” Bucky’s hair fell forward and covered some of his face. But there was no missing his twinkling blue eyes, reflecting the lights outside in his orbs. “Weren’t you going to have a girls movie night?”

“Yes, but I’d rather you join us.” Your hands ran up his sides, feeling rippled muscle until you reached his neck and jaw. His stubble pricked at your fingers as you cupped his face.

“I don’t want to be the third wheel. What are you ‘gonna watch?” As he spoke, Bucky began placing gentle kisses on your cheek that trailed down your collarbone.

“Cruel Intentions,” you muttered, revelling in the feeling of his plush lips against your skin.

“You’ve shown me that one,” Bucky murmured against your neck. “That’s the one with the lesbian kissing scene, right?”

You rolled your eyes with mock offence. “Of course that’s the bit you remember. And it’s not just any kissing scene. It’s the legendary kiss between Sarah Michelle Gellar and Selma Blair.”

Bucky pulled himself back up, raising his brows and trying, and failing, to hide his smirk. “Sorry, how could I forget.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Let me see if I remember correctly. It goes like this, right?”

Your heart was ready to burst out of your chest when Bucky’s lips met yours. Morning breath be damned; there was simply nothing better than kissing Bucky Barnes.

He licked across your bottom lip before you opened your mouth to let him in. “Bucky…” You moaned, your tongues sliding together like a choreographed ballroom dance.

Your hands held his scruffy jaw while his hands, one cold and one warm, held your waist. You could always tell when he was getting aroused by the way he’d lose some motor control of his silver arm, the hand twitching and metal plates shifting.

In hindsight, you’d miss the way he’d hold you the most.

Bucky slowly pulled away, his metal hand rising so his thumb could brush over your spittle-smeared lips. “Something like that, right?”

“Yeah.” You breathed out before taking the digit into your mouth.

Even though he couldn’t feel it, you could see how Bucky’s pupils dilated as he watched you suck.

His metal arm had been used for so much evil. But you always wanted to remind him of who he was. Your lover, your best friend. Your everything. Just like you were to him.

You weren’t afraid, and you embraced every part of him. While many cowered away from the man with the metal arm, you gravitated towards him, as if your heart was connected to him with impenetrable strings of fate.

“God, I love you.” Bucky’s metal hand cupped your cheek, his breath hitching for a moment as he gazed at you, as if so full of emotion his words were caught in his throat.

You placed your palm over his hand, snuggling into the cold metal like it was a warm hug. “I love you too, Bucky baby.”

An embarrassed flush spread over Bucky’s cheeks as it always did when you spoke to him sweetly. He might have been a soldier, but he was still a soft romantic at heart.

With the pitter-patter of rain against the window, the room no more than illuminated shadows, you were entirely enraptured by Bucky. You both stayed silent, just soaking in the moment as sparks flew. Even though you’d been together for two years, the chemistry was still like the first day you met. The first time you kissed. The first day you fucked.

The world around you was dark, yet you weren’t scared because Bucky was there.

The languid movement of Bucky’s lips to yours was tender, a familiar movement that he’d done so many times before. Feathery light, yet full of heat, he brushed his lips over yours. “I wish you could come with me.”

“I could stay in the jet.” You offered with sincerity. But that part of Bucky’s world wasn’t for you, you both knew that. You were no agent, a mere civilian with a super soldier boyfriend. But something told you that’s what drew Bucky to you, your normalcy. You gave him a chance at a life that had been stolen from him for so many years.

“I wouldn’t forgive myself if you got hurt. You’re safer here.”

In hindsight, he was very wrong.

Bucky captured your lips again, caressing and lingering in a way that had your heart fluttering and cheeks burning.

You tangled your hands into his locks, deepening the kiss. If he was going, you needed every moment you could get.

Bucky gripped your chin with his flesh hand, opening your mouth for him.

The sweetness turned sultry, and before long, Bucky was grinding himself against your pyjama-covered core.

Words couldn’t describe the desire that was awash in the room. Two lovers revelling in a happiness that was so rare, as if a million I love you’s were condensed into a single moment. No poet could describe this connection or the way it made you feel.

With Bucky’s embrace, you were home.

Bucky slowly trailed kisses down your neck, chest and stomach until he reached your pulsing pussy.

“I better tire you out before I go.” He smirked, cheeky as ever.

And tire you out, he did.

It wasn’t about his pleasure in that moment. He solely focused on you.

The way he moved his tongue, the way he pulled you apart, it was damn near artistic.

Steve may have been a painter, but Bucky was an artist in the act of love.

In hindsight, you should have cherished this moment more. Because it was the last happiness you would feel for some time.

The unease in your stomach began to grow in intensity as time passed, and by the time Bucky pulled himself away to get ready and leave, there were unexplainable chills wracking through you.

Bucky had done a thousand missions in your time together and had come home safe each time. Steve knew you’d likely kill him if something happened to Bucky. So why was this time different?

It was like your soul was trying to reach out and tell you something. But it must have been speaking another language, because you didn’t understand what was wrong.

You made the most of your fleeting time with Bucky before he left. He changed into his workout gear so he could kit up at the compound where most of the Avengers still resided, and Bucky had once lived. He didn’t leave many weapons in the home; you preferred it that way. The only one you knew of was the knife hidden under the couch, but you were sure there were other blades around.

Bucky had never told you why he didn’t live at the compound anymore, but Nat had hinted at tension between Bucky and Tony. You’d found it odd, given that Tony had been friendly to you each time you’d visited the compound.

But it wasn’t your business and didn’t matter to you anyway. You were content living with Bucky in your cosy apartment. There was more than enough space for both you and your fur child Alpine, plus a second bedroom for when Steve stayed over.

You snuggled into the duvet when Bucky left to make you a cup of tea before he headed off, and seeing as there was now a free spot, Alpine entered from the main area and took her chance to cosy up next to you. You pet the long-haired white cat as you waited, listening to her soft purrs to help ground you.

And when Bucky returned, you felt rather teary, your vision blurring as your emotions almost got the better of you. “Stay safe, please.”

Bucky set your earl grey down on the coaster on your bedside table before his concerned gaze turned to you. “I’ll be just fine. I’ll have my phone on me the whole time.”

“Is the mission dangerous?” You couldn’t help but ask. But you always got the same answer.

“I can’t talk about it, baby. But I’ll be okay. I promise,” Bucky reassured you with a kiss on your forehead. “You and Alpine better hold down the fort for me, okay?”

“Yeah. We’re going to get up to lots of mischief,” you smiled the best you could, holding Bucky’s hand.

“That’s my girls.” Bucky gave Alpine a little scratch under her chin before doing the same to you. “I’ll be back before you know it. Now get some more sleep, soldier’s orders.”

“Yes, sergeant,” you mock saluted before Bucky kissed you and pulled away.

“I love you, doll,” Bucky called from the doorway, as if taking his chance to imprint the sight of you into his mind.

In hindsight, he should have looked a lot longer.

“I love you too,” you gave Bucky a little wave. Alpine meowed in her own show of affection.

And like that, he was gone; The final sound from him was the closing of the front door behind him.

You turned the television on for some white noise while you sipped at your tea before you did as you were told, allowing the talking of some trash reality show to become background noise as you fell back asleep. As you dozed off, you couldn’t help but notice one side of the bed a lot colder than when you first had awoken.

For the second time that day, you woke up. This time, the sunlight beamed through the open curtains, since Bucky loved being woken by the sun warming his skin. He hated being cold.

Next to you lay a napping Alpine, her fluffy body rising and falling slowly with each deep breath. You placed a hand on her side, smiling at the little yip that came from her in surprise. She rolled onto her back, deep blue eyes watching you as you gaily scritched her belly.

She took the chance to latch onto your hand, playfully holding onto your wrist while her feet kicked and teeth ran across your skin.

“Hey, silly goose. Let me go.” Your chastisement was light and playful. While you’d prefer waking up next to Bucky, Alpine was a good replacement on the lonely days. She was your family, just like Bucky.

When Alpine rolled back over with a tired huff, you decided to leave her to slumber. As much as you wanted to annoy her more, you didn’t want to push your luck and end up with a pissed off kitty. She was moody, just like her dad.

You slinked out of bed, taking a moment to stretch when your feet hit the cold floorboards. With a yawn, you looked around the room. You should really get a rug, but Bucky liked lying on the floors when he found the bed too soft. On those nights, you’d join him, even if it left your back stiff and sore.

Padded steps took you to the kitchen, your body on autopilot as you got Alpine’s food ready for when she got up. It was the same routine as every morning. Feed the cat, shower, and check your emails for new commissions.

In hindsight, you should have been paying more attention.

You hummed as you made your way to the bathroom, connecting your phone to the Bluetooth speakers so you could play some music while you tried to relax. Your mind would run without the interruption of songs. And you didn’t want to start thinking about work before you’d had a chance to breathe.

In hindsight, you shouldn’t have put the music so loud.

It was a luxury working from home, getting to pick your own hours. You had felt a little guilty when Bucky first proposed the idea of you quitting your crappy retail job to follow your dream of graphic design, as he could bare the brunt of the expenses.

But now you were flourishing; you were just grateful for his support. There were peaks and troughs like any job, but your heart was content sitting in your shared apartment, designing things that made the world a brighter place.

You turned the shower on, bopping along to your music as you shed yourself of your pyjamas and got into the tiled shower. You could have a bath, but you preferred to save those moments for when Bucky could join you.

The hot water made you hiss at first before your body acclimatised, skin heating up as the stream washed over you.

You faced the wall, resting your head on the tile as the spray rushed down your back.

In hindsight, you should have turned around.

The consequence of your various decisions throughout the morning came to a startling precipice.

With no idea of your surroundings, you were surprised when someone looped their arms under your armpits and over your shoulders, hauling you backwards.

You didn’t even scream for a moment, your brain unable to catch up before the adrenaline kicked in full force.

The assailant didn’t speak, which almost made it worse, as he started to walk backwards with your back to his chest, arms locked over your front. More than ever, you really wished you’d taken Bucky up on those self-defence classes.

“Thanks, Buck. But I’ll never use them.”

“I just want to keep you safe.”

“I am safe. My boyfriend is an Avenger, remember?”

Fight or flight kicked in, and your screaming started. You kicked your feet up and planted your soles on the cold tiled wall. With all your strength, you pushed back like a springboard, sending you and your attacker hurtling backwards.

He let go as he fell, and while he fell through one glass pane of the shower, you fell through another. The force had the glass shattering, sending thousands of shards all over the room.

You scrunched your eyes closed, wailing when you stepped in the broken glass, pain shooting through you when the shards buried themselves into the soles of your feet. But a second attacker caught you before your body hit the sharp ground. The piercing pain in your feet barely registered with how your body buzzed. Blood began to cover the floor, your essence coating the tiles a sickly red.

Your eyes shot open to see who caught you. A dirty blonde with a youthful grin. The man who had grabbed you first, another blonde with bright blue eyes and a scowl, had caught himself against the double sink.

Time froze for a moment when you looked at the door. There was another man with dark brown hair and an ominous expression, his features dark like his intent. Three men. You had no idea if more waited outside the door, but anything would be better than being stuck in this room.

“Nice catch, Damien,” the dark-haired man grinned.

“Yeah, no problem, Mads,” the man holding you spoke, chuckling like he wasn’t holding a hostage in his grip. “Not like Kage was any help.”

With them distracted, you bolted for the bathroom door, ignoring the way your feet tore with each step.

“Maddox! Grab her!” The man against the counter, Kage, yelled. Pushing himself off the marble to follow you.

You managed to duck under Maddox’s arms and stumbled into the kitchen. Your blood was already pooling on the ground with each step you took, like red footprints in the snow.

A meow caught your attention; Alpine stood in the bedroom doorway, her tail straight and her ears back against her head, the anxiety clear.

“Alpine! Hide under the bed,” you hissed, knowing you only had seconds before the unknown men came after you. If you were to die, there was no way you’d let them get Alpine too. Alpine stared at you momentarily, but as the tears welled in your eyes, she rushed off, perhaps understanding the weight of your command. This wasn’t belly scratches and joking around anymore.

You rushed for the knife block on the kitchen counter, but a hand on the back of your neck stopped you before you could reach it. “Nice try, bitch.”

Maddox gripped your neck and shoulders before he threw you over the kitchen counter, sending you rolling over and onto the bar stools that sat neatly on the other side. You tumbled to the ground, groaning instantly at the pain of the wood hitting you from multiple angles during your descent.

The trajectory sent you towards the dining table, and with Kage and Damien coming in close, you shot up and grabbed one of the dining chairs. You held it out like a weapon, with the legs facing outwards. Your breaths came out in short pants as tears trickled down your cheeks, while a shard of wood from the stool stuck out of your side. “What do you want? I don’t have any money, please.”

“Are you dumb enough to think we’re here for money?” Damien goaded, slowly closing in the distance between you two.

Maddox jumped the counter and landed behind you, boxing you in. With a scream, you threw the chair at Damien and attempted to flee under the dining table.

You squealed when Maddox grabbed your ankle, his grip harsh. You turned to look back at him, before you kicked him in the face with your free leg. He groaned in pain, and you didn’t check to see how bad you’d hurt him before you crawled out to the other side of the table.

Kage had been waiting for you, and when you reached him, he dealt a sharp kick to your side. The pain winded you, your mouth ajar with a shocked gasp before he kicked your ribs again.

You rolled onto your back, watching as Kage considered you from above. The way he looked at you – the malice. They were going to kill you. A woman could always sense the imposing threat that men had, for it was simply the female experience to be at the mercy of those who wanted to harm you.

You should have stopped Bucky from going – should have trusted your gut. Although, if these men wanted you dead, then there would only have been so much Bucky could do. He was a victim as much as you in the world of unfairness. A man out of time. A man who just wanted a semblance of normalcy.

It was mournful that his one good thing was becoming marred with the violence he had become so used to.

“I don’t want to die,” you wept under the man, pulling the wooden stake from your side with a cry of pain. "Please."

Turning over, you dragged your bloodied body towards your desk. The same desk you spent most of your days on. Your computer and sketchbooks were filled with hopes and dreams, colour and beautiful chaos.

Your ichor-covered hand grabbed onto the side, using it like a crutch to stand up. You couldn’t stop fighting. If you were going to perish, you’d go out swinging.

“You’re still trying? It’s pathetic. You can barely stand,” Kage growled as Damien and Maddox began wreaking havoc behind him. They were smashing and destroying everything in sight, demolishing the world you and Bucky had built with love and a cherishing touch.

“F.. Fuck you,” you weakly spat, legs burning with the need to sit down.

Kage snapped, grabbing you and dragging you across the desk. Your computer smashed onto the ground, along with all your notebooks and stationery. He threw you down on top of the mangled computer, allowing the glass of your screen to stick into your back. In a way, it wasn’t a new sensation anymore. The sharp piercing of your feet had dulled your body to the point where the new pain was no more than a sudden spike that turned into a dull ache.

“You think you’re special? You’re nothing. Not even worth expending energy on.” Kage left your side, and your sightline moved to the couch.

Bucky kept a knife under it.

Trying to not show your intention, you used your arms to pull yourself along the hardwoods towards the couch, while Maddox closed in and kept tapping your bare ass with the toe of his boot.

“I wonder what he likes about you,” Maddox considered. “Are you that good a fuck? Do you cook him meals just like the old days, huh? ‘Cause to me, you just seem like a puny helpless girl. There’s no fun in killing someone who might as well be already dead.”

His taunts made your blood boil, and when you reached the corner of the couch, you turned onto your back, facing the assailant. “Go fuck yourself. You don’t know anything.”

“Ah, see there’s a little fire. I like it when they fight back.” Maddox dropped to his knees, one on either side of your thighs so you were boxed in. “I want to watch the light drain from your eyes, see all that hope just whittle away to nothing. Because, like Kage said, you are nothing.”

He moved in closer, to the point where you could smell the stale whisky on his breath. “I wonder what body part your boyfriend will find first. Maybe I’ll put your head under the bed with your fucking cat. What do you think? Are you ready to die?”

You let out an almighty scream when you reached and grabbed the knife, pulling it out and slashing Maddox across the arm before he could react.

He was a lot faster than you, however, and the moment you got a hit in on him he jumped back, eyes turning a lot darker. “Oh, you’re fucking stupid.” He growled, before he quickly overpowered you.

In a struggle, you screamed and thrashed, but by bearing his weight onto you, Maddox could manoeuvre you. He picked you up, before slamming you back down onto the hardwood floors. Your head snapped back from the force, whacking against the ground with a loud crack. 

Everything went black for a moment, and by the time your vision came back, Maddox was squatting over you with the sole of his boot stepping on your wrist, the knife still in your grip.

“You really don’t know when to stop, huh? Can’t you see you’re going to lose no matter what you do?” Maddox’s boot pressed harder, and your wrist creaked uncomfortably under the pressure.

You let go of the knife just before your bones would reach the point of snapping, the metal clattering to the ground. Despite the tears in your eyes and the fear in your heart, you were thankful for the life you had. If this were to be the end of your existence, you were okay with that. Bucky had given you a life worth of love in the short two years you’d known him. 

As you watched the sharp eyes of the man above you, you thought of Bucky. You hoped this loss would not destroy him. The life you had experienced together would not change; those happy memories of laughter and smiles still there. You hoped he would not cry for you, but feel a blossoming love at the thought of you. Death wouldn’t have you becoming a ghost of a forgotten past, but a memory to be cherished in Bucky’s future. And you would be waiting for him on the other side, should he be expecting to see you there after his inevitable demise. You would be just around the corner, waiting like nothing had ever been lost. These men could try and take your body, but they would not take your soul. That belonged to the man thousands of miles away saving the world. “I’m not going to lose. I’ve already won.”

“Yeah? Does this feel like winning?” Maddox sneered before he picked up the blade and plunged the knife into your shoulder, the white-hot pain splintering through you like the broken glass of your shower. Your mouth opened into a silent, broken scream, the anguish unlike anything you’d felt before.

This was just a fraction of what Bucky had felt in his lifetime, yet this felt like the whole world was collapsing in on you, your body broken. Perhaps these men were right - maybe you were weak. Because the knife in your shoulder was enough to break you. Would Bucky be disappointed? Would he expect you to have put up more of a fight? The logical response would be no. But the blade slicing through your muscles made it hard to think straight.

Maddox slapped your cheek and twisted the blade. “I asked you a question, little bitch. Does this feel like you’re winning?”

Your choked cries painfully shook your shoulders, and despite it all, you nodded. “Yes. I’ve already won and you can’t take that from me.”

“Stupid fucking whore, listen to this slut. She really thinks she’s worth something.” Damien called out from behind Maddox, looking at you from over his shoulder. Kage joined the commotion, gazing at the knife lodged in your shoulder.

Without compassion, Maddox ripped the knife from your shoulder, your palms raising to try to press on the open wound. There was no reprieve with these men, however. Maddox grabbed your shoulders, ignoring your yelps and wails while he threw you over the back of the couch.

Your front dropped onto the sofa, while your ass stuck in the air on the stiff back of the couch. The fear that roiled inside you turned tenfold as Kage came up behind you, pressing on your lower back so your hips pressed painfully into the couch frame. Damien and Maddox came around your front, their crotches scarily close to your face.

“You know what we can take from you, though? Your dignity.” Kage’s hands moved from your back to the globes of your ass. “I could fuck you right here, and there’s nothing you could do about it.”

If the humiliation of being naked wasn’t enough, having the intruders touch you like this was an indignity that would change you forever. A small part of your golden soul blackened, and you didn’t know if it could ever be saved.

Damien gripped your chin, forcing you to look up at the two men. “And we could fuck that mouth of yours. Maybe even pull a few teeth if you dared fight.”

“I bet you’d love it. After all, you have to be all kinds of fucked up to fuck the Winter Soldier,” Kage said as his fingers moved to feel across your thighs.

“Don’t you dare speak about him like that. He’s more of a man than you three put together.” The mere mention of Bucky had your anger returning. You let out a huffed breath before you used the last of your depleting strength to lift your legs and kick Kage in the stomach. He didn’t move, body like a stone statue, but the movement pushed you over the couch and onto the living room floor. The plushness of the cushions did little to soften your fall, a whimpered breath coming from your tired body.

You were just so tired. The more blood you lost, the harder it was to keep going. As your ichor stained the rug below you, you glanced to the blackened television.

“Bucky, what are you doing on the floor? And is that all the stuff from the bed?”

“We’re having a pillow fort movie night. The popcorn is in the microwave.”

“It’s going to be a pain to put the bed back together, you know.”

“Then we’ll just have to sleep here. Don’t worry, I’m sure we can break it in. It’s one new surface I haven’t fucked you on yet.”

No. You couldn’t give up. You owed Bucky your best fight. You had no doubt he would do the same for you.

The assailants closed in again, the same dark-haired asshole taunting you with his menacing grin.

“Fuck you,” you spat, seeing red when he tried to grab you.

Most of the punches you threw didn’t land, but it didn’t matter to you. Your arms were a blur as you screamed and unleashed all the fury you had.

But they just laughed at your efforts. The blood loss had clearly taken full effect with the way you moved slower than you intended, your arms weakening quickly.

“Nice try, toy.” Maddox picked you up by the shoulders before throwing you into the wooden coffee table.

The thin tabletop cracked and fractured instantly, wood splintering around the dent your body left.

The pain had become immaterial, the agony reducing from a boil to a simmer as your ability to feel lessened to the point where nothing was at all. Perhaps it was your body protecting your psyche, or you were dying. Either way, it left you feeling somewhat euphoric.

"She still fighting?"

"Let her be. She isn't going anywhere."

"Dumb bitch thought she stood a chance."

Your dazed state had the men leaving you to finish trashing the house. With no immediate threat, you made your last-ditch attempt. You had to let Bucky know who killed you. You knew it would kill him to not know who attacked you.

Numbed, you took another look at the men. There was nothing too unusual about them, just their distinctive hair colours, eye colours and the symbol they all bore. You hadn’t noticed it at first, but now with your chance to inspect them, you sighted a circular insignia on the front of their black hoodies. A green… octopus?

When Damien threw a plate at you that shattered against your forearm when you raised it to defend yourself, your thoughts were cut off. The porcelain dropped around you, and you picked up one of the pieces. On it was a little drawing of a cat. You and Bucky had done a pottery art class and came home with a few plates. You picked up a second piece, a sob bubbling from your throat when you looked at the two fragments together. A little Alpine that you had drawn, and a little bird that Bucky had drawn with red wings.

You let the remnants of the plate drop to the ground, the once beautiful creation covered with your blood. They really were destroying everything. As Damien continued to vandalise the kitchen, Maddox and Damien tore apart your boxes of photos.

Even with the horror of having your life stripped away, you struggled to look away. You saw the green octopus again, and something in the back of your mind was trying to get out – to tell you what it meant.

The emblem was so familiar, and you turned onto your stomach as you thought. Pulling yourself to a free patch of hardwood flooring, you began writing out the word ‘blonde’ with your blood, trying to give Bucky anything you could.

Kage stopped you after the first word, and it was like there was cotton wool in your ears as he pulled your hand back. You assumed he said something to chastise you, but you didn’t register it.

You could see his expression, though. He was enjoying himself, laughing with his partners as he took your arms and dragged you on your back towards the front door.

When you looked up, you saw his hoodie closer, and that’s when it clicked. Hydra? But Hydra was red? And from what you heard on the news after the Triskelion incident, they were some power-crazed terrorist organisation bent on absolute control. What were they doing in your apartment? And why did they hate Bucky so much?

Bucky hadn’t told you much about his past, and part of you understood. You could tell by the vulnerable look in his eye that he was scared you’d leave him every time the Winter Soldier was brought up, which was rare.

All you knew was that he was under control as the Winter Soldier, and did some horrible things. But you never pressed, and you didn’t need to. You knew enough to know Bucky was a victim, and that was enough.

Good people like Sam and Natasha wouldn’t have continued to stand by him if Bucky was anything more than an innocent, manipulated prisoner of war. Steve would stand with Bucky regardless, but you didn’t blame him for that. Some relationships simply went further than right or wrong, innocent or guilty. Steve would stand by Bucky through thick and thin, just like you would.

But that didn’t explain why these men were here and tormenting you. This was more than just an attack – it was complete and utter destruction. The apartment was in ruins, completely desecrated.

Kage dragged and dumped your body against the entry wall, amongst the torn photos of you and Bucky. Your gaze turned to one where you were both smiling, huddling in close. It was taken on Steve’s birthday. You’d all thrown him a surprise party in the compound. You remember because Bucky had you both wear a comically bad Captain America t-shirt to tease him.

The photo, while tattered, was a reminder. While this moment was pure suffering, life was also full of moments that had your heart full of love. Life wasn’t always full of pain, and this torture was but a brief snapshot in the greater picture of your life.

Now, your heart hurt because you’d experienced such great love you knew what it was like to feel the loss. Tears trickled down your cheeks as you mourned what could have been. You should be experiencing many more birthdays and silly t-shirts, but it seemed that wasn’t what fate had planned for you.

The cries you let out were stricken with grief, and for the first time, the men went silent and just looked at you as if you were human, not just a toy for their enjoyment.

“Talk about a mood killer,” Damien sniggered, but Kage quickly raised his hand.

“Enough. Time to put her out of her misery.”

Your blood turned icy cold, dread settling in your stomach as you whimpered, too drained to run. “Please, don’t. Just leave me. I won’t tell anyone.” A blatant lie, but you had to try. You’d seen their faces, and that alone sealed your fate. "I don't want to die," you said more to yourself than to them.

“Pretty pictures. Too bad they’re a bit stained.” Maddox mocked as he picked up one of the discarded photo albums. It was the heaviest one, full of memories that were now soaked with your blood.

Maddox handed the album to Kage, unbothered by the drips of red that hit the floor. 

They all stood before you as Kage flipped through the pages, his features hardened. “He’s so happy. Let’s see if the monster smiles now.”

Kage slammed the book closed, sealing your fate between his hands. That part of your life was ending, and these three were writing your future.

There was no point pleading with them, and you were too devoid of energy to do more than sit with shallow breaths, awaiting your death.

But one last ounce of adrenaline coursed through your veins as you tried to keep your eyes open. "His name is Bu-"

Kage raised the photo album before slamming it down on your head. It knocked you out instantly, the world going black as your body toppled to the side.

But the reaper didn’t come. Your heart continued beating, lungs filling with air.

Your suffering was due to continue. This wasn’t the end.

#ambswrites #navybrat writes #dark fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #omc x reader #omc x you #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #bucky barnes imagines #bucky #james buchanan barnes #fanfiction

[navybrat817]

𝑬𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅

✧˚ · . a collaboration between @navybrat817 and @sgt-seabass

Stay reformed. Erase this perfect world. Hate left below. The dark stray dog of war. (x)

Pairing — Bucky Barnes x Reader W/C — Almost 5k This is a dark fic. 18+ only. Listening to - Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea Previous part - A Tide of War and Broken Dreams

Warnings — angst, kidnapping, aftermath of attack, injuries, threat of violence against reader, Hydra exists, Bucky whump A/N — Welcome to the next part of our Vengeance AU! Quick reminder that this is a dark fic and things are going to be extremely rough for our reader (and Bucky) in the upcoming parts. Please heed the warnings and we hope you enjoy the ride!

Coming home to you was the thing Bucky looked forward to the most after a mission. Whether you were wide awake to greet him with a smile or curled up in bed sound asleep, the sight of you was like coming home every time. The love of his life, you taught him to believe in dreams again when he lived in a nightmare for so long. While he was darkness and pain, you were light and warmth and hope. You were part of his redemption, his dream he had long forgotten come true.

In hindsight, he should've thanked you more for loving him.

Even as his shoulders sagged from exhaustion, he smiled to himself as he took his keys from his pocket. You drew interlocking hearts with a red marker on the apartment key after his last mission. It was a reminder that the two of you had a home made with love. And that he had someone to come back to.

In hindsight, he should've shown more appreciation for the small things you did for him.

When Bucky got to the door, he wondered if you were awake or asleep since it was still early. Would you wake up if he joined you in bed? He hoped you got enough rest without him, remembering how you tried to get him to stay home. You seemed more nervous than normal for him to leave and it wasn't easy for him to shake, but you were safe there. And once he kicked his boots off and greeted Alpine, he'd wrap himself up in you as he put the mission behind him. He refused to let his work, or past, taint the beautiful space you created together.

In hindsight, he should've listened when you asked him to stay.

Darkness greeted him as he undid the multiple locks and pushed the door open, his senses on high alert when he noticed objects strewn along the floor in the dark. Alpine knocked things over when she had her zoomies, but this was something different. The aura of the room was heavy, and when Bucky stepped inside he could feel the air thicken suffocatingly. He reached for his gun as he listened for any sign of someone in the apartment. When he didn't hear any voices, or heartbeats, he turned on the light switch. He nearly got sick when the smell drifted to his nostrils.

Blood.

It was quickly becoming apparent that something was very, very wrong. Bucky’s heart spiked in a flurry, and while he wanted to freak out, his tactical survival mindset switched on, his emotions temporarily waning. The former assassin and current sergeant trembled as he stepped forward, careful not to track his footsteps through the blood in the hall. If this was a crime scene… He pushed the thought away as he glanced down at a photo of the two of you, the red fluid staining the beautiful memory and drowning out the happiness.

He experienced hell, but it still didn't prepare him for the sight of your living room as he kept his gun trained. Everything from the table to your hard work lay in scattered pieces. The sight of destruction made his stomach turn. It was as if someone wanted to ruin the care put into this place. Even the air was colder, shadows taking over the normally bright space.

It was pure destruction.

Why didn't he get an alert of a break-in? His security wasn't as good as Stark's system, but he should've received something. He knew the signs of a robbery, but this was something else entirely. Whoever did this knew what they were doing and he feared what that meant for you.

"What is that?" he muttered, stepping over broken dishes as he saw something written in blood.

BLONDE

His brilliant and amazing other half tried to leave him a clue.

All his training and thought went out the window as he spotted the knife normally hidden under the couch soaked with blood feet away, screaming your name as he frantically searched for you. He choked on a sob as glass crunched under the boots, the bathroom in the same disarray as the rest of the apartment. The bloody footprints led away from the room. Was this where it started?

You put up a fight, didn't you, doll?

Fury surged through him at the thought of someone hurting and scaring you, for daring to put their hands on you. You weren't trained to fight and you didn't deal with pain well, but you had spirit. You had heart. But he wasn't here to defend you.

In hindsight, he should've been there to protect you.

"Meow."

Bucky pointed his gun at the ground as he spun around, a tear sliding down his cheek when he saw Alpine's normally white fur darkened red. He holstered his weapon before he crouched down to check her. Physically, she was fine, but he knew she was shaken up. So was he. "Hey. I've got you," he whispered, trying to soothe her and himself when she nuzzled his chest.

Keeping her close, he finally made his way to the bedroom. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine you were there, stretched out and smiling as you welcomed him home. He could join you, hold you, and know he was home. But all he saw was an empty bed.

You were gone.

In hindsight, he never should've gone on that mission.

"Who did this, Al? Where is she?" he asked, wishing his cat could tell him what happened. You were kind to everyone. You had no enemies. Everyone loved you.

I love you so much, doll.

Trying one last thing, he got his phone out to call you and hoped by some miracle you'd answer.

You didn't.

"Hi! You've reached the voicemail of…"

Hearing your cheerful voicemail unleashed his tears as he hung up and collapsed on the bed. The scent of your perfume lingered on the sheets as Alpine curled up in his lap and for a moment it was as if you were there to assure him you were hanging on. To not give up on you.

Never. I'd fight for you 'til my last breath.

It took him a moment to dial Steve's number, trying his best to keep it together as he ran a shaky hand through his hair. This was his fault. It had to be. He could blame himself later. For now, he had to find you. He had to bring you home. And he tear apart the blonde monster who dared to lay a hand on you.

"Hey, Bucky. What's going on?" Steve asked as he answered.

There was a beat of silence before Bucky let out a choked sob. He placed his hand over his mouth for a moment, whimpers slipping past his fingers before he got the words out.

"She's gone," he whispered, a tear falling on Alpine's head.

"What?"

"She's gone," he repeated as he cried, the sound drowning out Steve's voice. The last time he broke down like this was in Wakanda, the day he was free of Hydra's hold over him. That was the beginning of a new dawn, like when you entered his life.

But today was the beginning of a brand new nightmare.

Wherever you are, please, hold on.

Pain, by definition, is an unpleasant sensory and emotional experience associated with actual or potential tissue damage, or described in terms of such damage. What you felt as you tried to open your eyes went beyond unpleasant, the physical anguish drawing a groan from you began to sit up. Your body screamed at your mind to lay back down as your vision slowly adjusted to the light, immediately recognizing that you weren’t in your home by the look of the dirty ceiling.

Where am I?

The last thing you remembered were the three strangers, your attackers, standing over your weakened body. You had no clue what shape you were in, but it couldn’t be great judging by the ache you felt just from waking up. You didn't know what you had done to receive their wrath, but they miraculously listened to your plea and didn't kill you. For a moment, you thought the men were going to leave your lifeless body for Bucky to find.

Bucky.

The physical pain shifted to your heart as you imagined him getting back to the apartment only to find it in ruin. You didn’t know when he would return from his mission or how long you were unconscious, but you had to get back to him. He needed to know you survived and he sure as hell wouldn’t just lay there if he were in your shoes. You had to be strong for him, even if you felt weak.

“I’m okay,” you whispered.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly began to push yourself up. The left side of your body protested, but you managed to get in a sitting position after a few seconds. Glancing down, you pulled the flimsy sheet away and expected to see random splotches of dried blood on your naked body. You found none because someone took the liberty of cleaning you and putting an oversized shirt on you.

Who did that?

The only relief you felt was there was no soreness between your legs. They kept your dignity intact and didn't taint that part of your soul. You would take the pain over that.

You gingerly touched your left shoulder, wincing as you felt the wrapping under the fabric. The brunette stabbed you, the flash of the memory in your mind making your stomach lurch. But was he the one who patched up your wound? There were bandages around your feet, too. Who removed the shards of glass? Or were they cruel enough to leave them there?

You fought the urge not to cry when you noticed the cuff around your left ankle attached to a chain. Sniffling, you slowly swung your legs to the side of the bed, the clinking sound momentarily distracting you from the ache as you set your feet on the ground. The musky smell of the filthy room filled your nostrils as you looked around. It reminded you of a basement, but worse. The average size room had no windows. A lone light in the ceiling. A toilet. A sink. And a bucket beside the bed.

The one someone chained you to.

Like a prisoner.

You braced your hands on your knees to keep your breathing even, but it didn’t stop your stomach from lurching again at the reality and stress of your situation. Combined with the ache of your body and the smell on your cell, you managed to grab the bucket just in time before you wretched. You hated throwing up, almost as much as you hated being in pain. You could never put your finger on why you couldn't handle it well. Maybe it was because you had little experience in dealing with it in comparison to someone like Bucky.

"Ouch!" you hissed, shoving the paper away on your desk. "Damn."

"You okay?" Bucky called from the kitchen, his footsteps already heading toward you.

"Paper cut," you pouted, showing him. His look of concern made your heart swell. "Will you kiss it better?

"Poor thing," he said, his tone sympathetic and not chastising as he helped you up. "I'll kiss it once I put a bandaid on it."

"Why do they hurt so much?" you asked as he led you to the bathroom, feeling silly for saying that. It was just a paper cut.

"Because paper is actually jagged and acts more like a saw than a knife blade," Bucky explained, giving your finger a kiss once he cleaned and wrapped a bandage around it. "And there are a lot of pain receptors in your fingers. Cutting through those nerve endings hurts."

"You're so smart," you smiled, your finger tingling as he gave it one more kiss. "I'm just a baby."

"You're not a baby. You're allowed to feel what you feel," he assured you, pressing his lips against yours. "Just be glad it wasn't your foot."

"How would someone get a paper cut on their foot?" you giggled when he smiled.

"It could happen. And if it does, I'll kiss it better."

“I’m okay,” you whispered again after you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

A tear rolled down your cheek as you stood up and you couldn’t stop the whimper as you took a step forward. While you didn’t think they left any glass in your feet, it sure as hell hurt to put your weight on them. Your legs shook as you moved toward the sink, which was far from the door. It was slow going, but you put one foot in front of the other. You longed to feel Alpine rub her fur against your leg as you rinsed your mouth out with surprisingly clean water.

At least those bastards didn’t hurt her. Or did they?

You didn’t make a mad dash for the door, not wanting to do more damage to yourself, but you tried to move a little faster. Each step was more painful than the last and you nearly collapsed when the chain couldn’t give any further. You whined as you tried to stretch and touch the door. Of course, you couldn’t reach it, but you were so close.

Yet so far away.

"Come on," you whispered, unable to hold back a sob when you yanked on the chain.

For some reason, maybe it was fear or thinking no one would help, you didn’t scream. It wouldn’t do you any good when you didn’t have much energy to spare. You tried to think of what Bucky or any of the other Avengers would do in this situation as you wiped the tears away. Not like they’d let something like this happen to them. No, you couldn’t think like that. This wasn’t your fault.

The only ones to blame were the ones who took you.

You didn't get a chance to feel along the walls or look around any further when you heard three sharp bangs on the door. Stumbling backwards, you winced as you fell against the mattress and watched the door swing open. You couldn't stop your heart from pounding at the sight of the three men casually entering the room. The ones who ruined your home.

And took you from Bucky.

Your attackers stared you down as you cowered on the bed. They no longer wore the hoodies with the green symbols, each of them clad in black t-shirts and tactical pants. The brunette crossed his arms and looked all too pleased at your present state. The dirty blonde glanced around the room with a sneer, like he was too good to be inside of a dirty cell. The blonde who attacked you first showed no emotion as you hugged your knees to your chest.

Up close, and from your sitting position, the men were large and intimidating in stature. The room felt smaller from the space they took up, threatening to suffocate you. They easily tossed you around your home and you didn't want to imagine the damage they would do to you here. You were a doe in a den of wolves.

Would you manage to get out of the woods?

“About time you woke up, toy,” the brunette said, checking the chain to make sure it was still secure. "I was about three seconds away from dumping water on you."

“She looks like shit,” the dirty blonde commented with a small chuckle.

Heat filled your cheeks. You hadn't looked in a mirror, but of course, you looked awful. Felt like it, too. What did they expect when they nearly beat you to death?

"I guess we didn’t get to properly introduce ourselves, did we? I’m Maddox. That’s Damien. And that’s Kage. We already know who you are, but your name doesn’t really matter.”

You remembered them referencing each other as they attacked you, but you didn’t recognize them from anywhere. Bucky never mentioned them. They were distinct enough to stand out if he had.

Kage didn't acknowledge how you stiffened as he got close to you. Gently pulling on the sleeve of the shirt, he checked your shoulder and glided a warm hand down the other side of your body. Was he going to hurt you again? What about the others? You didn’t see any obvious weapons on them, but that didn’t mean anything. They were strong enough to beat you if you tried to fight. The thought had you hugging yourself tighter when you felt the blonde's breath on your neck.

“Told you the little bitch would puke,” Maddox said, nodding toward the bucket when Kage finally pulled away. You woke up chained to a bed in an unfamiliar place. How were you supposed to react? "You’re not much of a conversationalist,” he added, making you move back against the wall as he stepped closer this time.

There were plenty of things you wanted to say, but you kept your mouth shut.

"You’re really not going to say anything? That’s rude,” Damien said, nudging Kage with his elbow. “Why isn’t she talking?”

“Ask her,” the blonde replied.

“Why aren’t you talking to us?” Damien asked, crouching down and patting your cheek harder than necessary. You didn't want any of them touching you. “We know you’re not deaf, so speak.”

You didn't know much about him, but his tone came across as entitled. Like he expected people to jump at his word. "I’m scared," you admitted.

“You should be,” Maddox mocked, pulling Damien back a little. "But I don’t see what being scared has to do with you not talking. You were pretty mouthy with your whole ‘I’m still winning’ bullshit.”

"I’m scared because you almost killed me," you told them, the words tasting like ash in your mouth. Had they really forgotten that or did they not care?

"But we didn't. We let you live,” Damien said, like you should’ve thanked him for allowing you to still breathe. “Your vocal chords still work. Use them."

"I don’t want to," you whispered. All you wanted to do was go home and let Bucky know you were okay. “I don’t want to talk to any of you.”

The humor left Maddox’s face at your answer. "You say that like we give a shit about what you want. Talk, or we'll cut your tongue out if you refuse to use it."

Fear spiked at the threat, knowing it wasn't an empty one. The man stabbed you in the shoulder simply because you tried to fight back. "Okay, I will," you promised, though you weren’t sure what they wanted you to say. "Thank you for patching me up."

Even though they were the ones who inflicted the wounds, they could've easily let infection set in or not tend to them at all. Your statement didn't get much of a reaction from them though, minus the slight look of surprise on Damien's face. "You should be thankful. Put this roof over your head, too."

"Thanks," you said again. At least you had a bed. "Where are we?"

He burst out laughing. What was so funny? "We're in a room. And here we thought you were smart being a graphic designer and all."

"How did you know that?" you asked when his laughter died down. Did they discover that when they wrecked your place or did they do their research on you?

"Dami's great with computers and systems," Maddox smirked, clapping him proudly on the shoulder. The younger man preened at the compliment. "Your security system's lacking, but the camera loves you."

These monsters hacked your apartment cameras? Invaded your privacy? It was a violation that neither of you deserved. It was how they likely knew Bucky wouldn't be home to help you. "Why were you watching my place?"

"We have our reasons," Kage replied, not expanding on the topic.

Maybe, by some miracle, the cameras picked up on what happened to you. As much as you didn't want Bucky to witness your attack and kidnapping, it could give him clues to your whereabouts since you were only able to write one word in blood. "Are you going to let me go?”

"Kage, I think that hit to the head did more damage than we thought," Damien joked.

"Let's clarify for that baby brain of yours: We're not letting you go, so don't fucking ask,” Maddox stated.

Your heart sank the longer you sat there. "Is it money that you want?" you asked. Had they demanded a ransom from Bucky or anyone else for your release?

"Oh, please," Maddox rolled his eyes, as if you asked a stupid question. "Didn’t we already tell you this isn’t about money? Damien has more than he knows what to do with."

“Then what is it about? I haven’t done anything to you. To any of you,” you pleaded, wishing you were stronger. But was it weak to beg? To want to go free? “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

"How self centered to think this is about you."

"I-I'm not self centered,” you gently argued. You weren’t a perfect person, but you had a good heart and wouldn’t hurt anyone for the world. “I'm just trying to understand."

"Aww. Of course, you are. Because that's the kind of person you are, aren't you?” The brunette grabbed your chin with an iron grip, squeezing hard enough to make you whimper before he let you go. “So kind and understanding and willing to look past flaws? Living in your happy little bubble where nothing can touch you?"

Maybe, in some ways, you did live in a rose colored world. Your life was a happy one overall. Bucky shielded you from some of the things he did and the horrors he went through. Was it a means to keep you safe or to keep you blissfully unaware of the darkness of the world?

“Why did you attack me? You mentioned Bucky-”

You shrieked when Maddox kicked the bucket against the wall, his fingers flexing like he wanted to hit something. Damien had a similar look of fury on his face. Kage was the only one who didn’t physically react, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t upset. “Don’t say his fucking name,” he spoke above a whisper, something dangerous in his voice making you shudder.

“I’m sorry,” you said, not wanting to anger them any further. Bucky worked hard to make amends for the actions he was forced to carry out, at least the ones you knew about. What was the history with these men? The green octopus on their hoodies briefly flashed in your mind. "If you won't let me go and you don't want money, why bring me here? Why didn't you kill me?"

"Because it isn't your time to die yet,” Damien shrugged.

It was both comforting and fearful that they didn't kill you. By bringing you here, they had some sort of plan. Besides violence, what else were they capable of and what would they do to you in the process?

"Death is a privilege earned through pain. And you need a hell of a lot more before you get there," Maddox chastised as you put on what you hoped was a brave face. Were they going to try and break you? No, you wouldn't let them. "Plus, you’re Damien’s first girlfriend, so we can’t get rid of you just yet."

"Shut the fuck up," he snapped, his cheeks red as he glanced at his friend. "I’ve had plenty of girlfriends."

You wondered if he chained them up in dirty rooms like this, but chose not to ask.

"What, in high school?" Maddox chuckled.

"Fuck off. I’m not a teenager!"

As the two of them bickered, Kage continued to stare at you with an unreadable expression on his face. And his eyes? They took on an unnatural shade of blue that sent another shiver down your spine before you blinked, the irises going back to normal. Maybe the light in the cell was playing tricks on you.

His eyes lingered on you still as he addressed the others. "That's enough. Go over the rules."

Damien huffed, but conceded. Kage's words seemed to hold weight for him. "Since we're kind enough to let you stay here until we decide to get rid of you, you’ll do what we tell you."

Meaning, until they decided to kill you. Your eyes burned with unshed tears as you nodded. Maybe if you behaved, you could bide your time and find a way out of this. Or at least hold on until Bucky found you. “What are the rules?”

“So glad you asked,” Maddox smiled. “First rule. You’ll eat three meals a day, whatever we give you, without complaint. You don’t eat it, we’ll shove a fucking tube down your throat. Is that understood?”

You nodded again. You’d eat so you could keep up your strength. It was also better than starving.

“A nod isn’t a good enough answer. Say, ‘yes, Maddox',” he said slowly.

The urge to snap was quickly smothered by fear and uncertainty. “Yes, Maddox.”

“That’s a good girl,” he said, a darkness in his eyes that made your skin crawl. “Next rule. You’ll brush your teeth after each meal, but you’re not allowed to keep your toothbrush. Don’t want you trying to use it as a weapon.”

“Why do you want me to brush my teeth?” you couldn’t help but ask. They harmed you and kept chained you in a cell, but cared about your hygiene?

“Because we don’t want your teeth to rot," Damien answered, a wide smile on his face. "If you lose them, it'll be because we knocked them out or pulled them out.”

You refused to throw up in front of them, but you were pretty close as your stomach lurched. These men were sick, but they wouldn't have those smiles on their faces once Bucky got his hands on them. "Brush my teeth after each meal and give the toothbrush back when I'm done."

"Like a fucking parrot. So proud," Maddox muttered, holding up three fingers as you hung your head. Did they have to be so rude? "Rule three. Don't lay in bed all day, Get up, walk around, stretch. Just because you aren’t allowed to leave this room doesn’t mean you can be lazy while we work.”

You wished you were working. You longed to be at your computer, bringing your visions to life. Maybe you could piece together the damage they had done once you were free and pick up where you left off.

"I'll walk around," you said, wondering how long your feet would take to heal.

“And rule four. You don’t give us the silent treatment," Damien said, narrowing his eyes. "If we ask you a question or initiate a conversation, you're expected to answer. You don't get to ignore us after we let you live."

Did they think you owed them something for not killing you? That it was a privilege for you to live? "I'll talk," you said, only if you had to. "What happens if I break a rule?"

"We'll punish you," Maddox smirked, his dark eyes sparkling with excitement as you shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "Please, break a rule."

"We'll go over punishments later," Kage said, checking the time on his watch. "We need to feed her. Let's go."

You got unsteadily to your feet as they moved toward the door, attempting one last plea. "Please, let me go," you begged, immediately regretting your words when three pairs of eyes glared in your direction. You couldn't take it back, but you couldn’t stop either. “Bu- My boyfriend will come looking for me if you don’t. He'll get me out of here.”

All you wanted to do was go home.

“We’re counting on him to look for you,” Damien smiled.

“One last rule for now,” Kage added as Maddox walked toward you with a scowl. “Don’t say his name or ever ask to go back to him.”

Before you could back away, the brunette deliberately stepped on your foot. If that wasn't bad enough, he pushed a finger against your stitched shoulder. A wounded sound left your mouth as searing pain shot up and down your arm and leg. You were barely able to make out his face as black spots danced in front of your eyes.

"Order comes through pain," he said, pressing his boot in more as you sucked in a breath. He released your foot seconds later and harshly shoved you to the bed as your chest heaved. "You better get used to it."

"Kage just changed her bandages before she woke up," Damian snapped when you gripped your shoulder, your body still shaking a little.

"Oh, boohoo. She can lick up any of the blood she spills. She'll need the hydration," Maddox said before the cell door slammed shut, their footsteps fading into nothing.

Reaching for Bucky's dog tags around your neck for comfort, something to remind you that you weren't alone, you remembered they were gone. They took them from you. The floodgates opened, soaking the sheet with your tears. Your captors terrified you and you couldn't figure out their angle. They had an issue with Bucky, but hadn't asked any questions about him or the Avengers. They hadn't tortured you for any kind of information. What could you as a civilian tell them anyway?

What did they want?

I'll hold on, Bucky. I'll try and be strong for you.

Your boyfriend would find you. He wouldn't give up until he did. But it didn't stop you from crying in your cold cell. And it didn't stop the blinking red light in the corner capturing it all, documenting the next chapter of your nightmare.

Our poor reader. More to come soon. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

#navybrat writes #ambswrites #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #omc x reader #omc x female reader #omc x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #collaborative writing #dark fic #james buchanan barnes

[applesap-fics]

Rats are not meant to be on their own. They are social animals. They need members of their own kind to interact with or they get depressed. No amount of comfort can offer the security someone who speaks your own language can. Someone who gets you.

Chapter 5 of my weird aniMadrigal AU is up! Rekindling romance with a slice of grief- or, maybe the other way around.

#encanto #encanto fanfics #encanto fanfic #bruno madrigal #gay bruno madrigal #all good things #M rated #to new readers: mind the tags #bruno madrigal/omc #bruno madrigal x omc

[crashdevlin]

Local Legends 4- The Truth

Author’s Note: This is part four of Local Legends miniseries, a nightclub AU with a bit of a twist.

Sorry it took so long to get this out and it's pretty short, but I was extremely sick (viral pharyngitis...so all I could do was wait it out as my tonsils swelled up so bad I could barely breathe) and working on school. I promise that it won't be so long before the next chapter of stuff.

Summary: The Winchesters are Lebanon legends, courting controversy like any wealthy family does. Y/n has always been interested in the gossip, but never had cause to be a part of it, until she runs into Dean Winchester at his nightclub and gets the fabled black business card that lets her into the VIP lounge.

Pairing: Dean x Reader, OMC (Rick) x Reader

Word count: 1544

Story Warnings:  cheating/infidelity, angst, guilt, shame, relationship angst,

~~~

Rick was waiting for you when you walked into the apartment, sitting on your thrift store couch with his phone in his hand. Your mind immediately slipped back to the day you had to talk yourself into the purchase, promising to eat only Ramen lunches for the month because you needed somewhere to sit in your living room after the supports failed on your last couch. If what Dean said was true…

"Where have you been?! I've been calling and calling and it kept going straight to voicemail and-"

"Phone was off," you responded shortly. "And why does it matter where I've been?"

Rick scoffed as you dropped your purse on the coffee table, and he stood. "You walked out of here after a big fight, Y/n. It's not like you to just...leave."

"No, it's not," you confirmed. "But I've been doing a lot of stuff that's not like me." His eyebrows came together and you had to look away from him. "Like you have...ever since you met me."

"What does that mean?"

"Why haven't I met your family, Rick?"

He sighed loudly. "I've told you-"

"Old friends from high school or college? Old girlfriends?" You kept your eyes on the stained area rug under your feet...a curbside pickup from someone else's trash.

"Y/n, look-"

"I'm giving you an opportunity to come clean so please…" Your voice dropped to a whisper. "Please."

Silence filled the room for a long few minutes. "How'd you find out?" eventually came from your boyfriend as he moved to sit back down.

"Saw your yearbook."

He scoffed and shook his head. "One of the Winchesters."

"Doesn't matter. Just explain."

“I know I shouldn’t have lied, but I-”

You interrupted again as you turned to look at him. “Rick, seriously. I’m not asking for an apology.”

“Just an explanation, then, huh?” He sighed and settled back on the couch. “I grew up with...anything I ever wanted. Everything, everyone, had a price...and my family could pay it. We were...multibillionaires. There’s a lot of money in chemicals. But...not a lot of morals.” He scratched at his beard and took a deep breath. “I was an asshole. From the minute I could talk, I was an asshole. I was an asshole to the Winchesters from the minute I met them. I thought they were less than me. I was-”

“You still think they’re criminals. You still call them criminals, Rick...or should I call you ‘Richie’?”

He let out a sad noise. “Don’t call me that, please. I’m not...I’m trying to tell you what changed. I’m trying to tell you why I’m not ‘Richie’ anymore. And you...you know those guys are definitely not squeaky clean, Y/n.”

“Neither are you.”

“Exactly!” He shook his head again. "Look at me. I haven't even had the money for years and I'm still a lying piece of shit! What do you think they’re like? I mean it. Under it all, what do you think the Winchesters are really like? You think they exposed my lies because it was the right thing to do? Of course not! They told you the truth to fuck me over, to get revenge for high school, and you know what? I deserve it. I deserve everything they could do to fuck my life, but you don't deserve to be made a tool for-"

"Why are you pretending to be poor, Rick?!" you demanded, your patience wearing thin.

"Because you wouldn't have wanted me if you knew I was a trust-fund dickhole."

"What?!" Your eyes went wide.

"People treat me different when they find out about the money. I didn’t want that from you."

"You thought so little of me that you assumed I would treat you differently if you told me the truth?"

"No, that's not what I mean! I just...when I met you, I saw you...I saw who you are. I saw the...the working-class of you. I didn’t think you'd be interested in me if I was-"

"You'd already walked away from the money and prestige by the time you came here!" You let out a shocked gasp. "He was right! You didn't see a future with me! That's why you didn't tell me about your past."

"That's not true!"

"What, was I some vacation for you? Some distraction from your difficult upper-class life? Was I something to entertain your-"

"No!" Rick dropped to his knees in front of you and looked up into your eyes, begging without a word.

"Then explain it."

He licked his lips and let his eyes flit away before focusing on your mouth. "I met a guy in college. His dad used to work for my dad. Got exposed to something at the plant, the PPE was insufficient. Dad convinced him not to file with OSHA...said he'd cover his medical, take care of his family...fired the guy as soon as the time to file passed. Guy ended up killing himself because life insurance was the only way he could take care of his family...and Dad tried to take that from them too...sent lawyers to claim the company should have been the beneficiary because the company got him the policy. Dad ruined the man's life and tried to ruin his death and I know that wasn't a one-time thing...it was just the first time I was exposed to the aftermath." A tear rolled down Rick's cheek but he paid it no mind. "I started looking at environmental law after that...as a way to, kinda, pay for my father's sins. I wanted to make sure that no one had to deal with exposures like that. I changed because of that."

"And that explains you coming here. That explains you stepping away from your wealth and station but it doesn't explain why you didn't tell me the truth. It doesn't explain why you have allowed us to struggle through the last few years. It doesn't explain why you run to them when they ask you to or why you haven't fucked me since your ex-girlfriend divorced her husband." His eyes popped to yours, then dropped to the floor. "Another thing he was right about, huh? You're going to leave me for your private school prom queen and that's why you haven't touched me in months."

"They...want me to...but...I haven't…"

"Yes, you have. Your obligations come first. They always will. And they have obligated you to marry within your social class." You stepped back away from him and gave a tight smile as tears of your own overwhelmed your eyes. "It's okay. It's only been a couple years. You'll wash the poor-person stink off real quick...a lot faster than I'll wash the living-a-lie stink off."

"Y/n, I'm-"

You shook your head and grabbed your purse. "Have a nice life, Rich."

You set your phone in your center console as you drove, speaker turned on so you could speak hands-free. Everything was falling down around you but you weren't going to let yourself fall with it.

"Hey, Danny, I just got a call from my uncle. Grandma is in hospice. They need me to fly out to the coast and help with end of life care and getting her affairs in order and stuff. I'm gonna need to be taken off the schedule for a few weeks."

"I'm so sorry, Y/n. How long do you think you'll be out?"

"Couple weeks, at least. I'll call when I find out when the funeral will be and let you know when I'll be back."

"Okay. Give your family my condolences."

"Will do, Danny. See ya."

You reached out and turned off the call as you kept driving. Out of town, down two nameless dirt roads and into a long driveway. You looked up at the farmhouse in the distance, sighing as you put your car in park.

Your stomach was in knots as you stepped onto the porch and pulled open the screen door. It’d been many years since you showed up here with your tail between your legs...but it was time.

“Hey, Mama.”

“Aren’t you a sight?”

You smiled tightly and cleared your throat. “You ever turn my room into a craft space or is there still a bed back there for me?”

She hummed and rubbed her hand on her shirt. “Of course there’s still a bed for you. Come on in, girl. I got some banana bread. You want some?”

You stepped in, walking toward the kitchen. “Thanks, Mom.”

“So...what’d he do?”

“What?” You turned to her as she shut the heavy wood door.

“You haven’t been home except holidays in two years. I imagine that boy of yours did something that your daddy is probably going to want to have a few words with him about.”

“Maybe I did something wrong.”

She looked you in the eye and shook her head. “You’d be too ashamed to come here if it were your fault. So...come have some coffee and banana bread and tell me all about it.”

You sighed and followed her as she walked into the kitchen. You would have to figure out how to pare the story down.

#cassie writes stuff #nightclub au #dean x reader #omc x reader #angst #cheating

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

In Plain Sight (Part 6)

Summary: The reader’s birth mother has reached out for a reconciliation but both she and Jensen think she’s up to something. And a trip to the park for some photos has Crew revealing another secret he’s been harboring...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x daughter!reader (with lots of daughter!reader x OMC)

Word Count: 5,700ish

Warnings: language, mention of family angst/bad parenting

A/N: So much going on in this one!

______

“Y/N,” said your dad, catching you before you headed to bed that night. “Come here a sec.”

You followed him down to his office, watching him open the bottom drawer of his desk and take out a box.

“I was thinking since Crew is spending Christmas with us and it’s his first one in a while, I wanted to give him something he’d really like.” He took off the lid and pulled out a photo album book, one of those one’s you could make from an app on your phone. “I know you could have made one that looked nicer-”

“Dad he’ll love this,” you said, flipping through the book. There were a number of pictures from set last year and this one, ones from nights out during the promo tour and private dinners and days off with the cast and crew. A few more pages in you saw one of yourself and Crew in the distance, both of you laughing way too hard. 

“I thought that was cute. I didn’t have a lot of the two of you but I snuck in as many as I could.”

“This is a great present dad. He deserves to have someone looking out for him.”

“I know he does, honey bun. Holidays are hard for him so he’ll probably be a bit quiet when we go up to the cabin, maybe want to be by himself a bit. We should give him his space when he wants it but make sure he knows we want him included.”

“Of course,” you said, handing him back the book.

“You’re okay with that? Crew doing family things with us?” You rolled your eyes. “Just checking.”

You turned to leave, his finger curling in the back of your hoodie, stopping you in your tracks. “Father…”

“Daughter. Talk to me,” he said, patting the top of his desk. You pursed your lips and sat on top, crossing your legs. “Anymore nightmares lately?”

“Nope.” 

“You sure?”

“Yes. I know I freaked out but-”

“Hey,” he said softly. “It was a scary night and we both know that can make the nightmares come back. I’m just asking if you’re good.”

“Yes…” you trailed off, his expression cautious. Did he know about you and Crew somehow? “Dad. What aren’t you telling me?”

He sighed and lowered his head. “Abigail was released yesterday. She got parole.”

“She what?” A flood of anger rushed through your veins, your dad standing and hugging you where you sat. “How the fuck does a child kidnapper get parole after only eighteen years? She’s supposed to be in there sixty. She’s not supposed to be out.”

“I know,” he said quietly, kissing the top of your head. “I know. I found out last week she was being let out. I didn’t want to ruin your Thanksgiving or work promotion.”

“Why are you telling me? You would hide this from me,” you said. 

“She made contact through the lawyers. She wants to meet us both. Apologize.”

“She can shove her apology up her ass.” He nodded, holding your body tight for a moment, neither one of you breathing. “Is she going to bother us?”

“The lawyer has concerns.” You dropped your head against his chest, breathing deeply. “Her parole was triggered based on some advocacy group doing work for a number of…it doesn’t matter. The law says she should have been placed in an institution, not a prison. That didn’t happen so she goes-”

“Is this because I didn’t testify?” 

“No, baby,” he said, running his hand over your head. “She’s just very good at being who she wants people to think she is.”

“Let’s meet her.” He pulled back, his head already shaking. “She doesn’t get to control our lives anymore. She was the bad one, not us. The show is done filming next week before winter break and you and I can fly out to LA for a few hours to meet her. We can make it very clear she needs to stay the hell away from us.”

“We can’t threaten her. She’s served her time. If it got back to her lawyer-“

“I’m not saying we do that. I’m just saying we tell her she has no place in our lives and we judge her reaction. See if she’s still obsessed or not. It’s better than staying here and being afraid.” He sat down in his chair, taking hold of your hands when you held them out to him. “Dad. I know you wouldn’t tell me unless you were scared of her coming back. So let’s go find out.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I. But she doesn’t get to have control over us anymore. Hire some security to be there undercover to make you feel better.” 

He bit his bottom lip but nodded. “I need to know. Otherwise I’m going to want to keep a guard on you for the rest of your life and I know that’s not realistic.”

“Maybe she’s different,” you whispered. He raised his head, green eyes meeting yours.

“People like her don’t change,” he said, lightly touching your cheek. “I’ll go. You stay here.”

“Daddy. You aren’t seeing her alone.”

“Why are you calling me that?” he whispered, voice raw. 

“Because I need you to listen to me. She hurt us both. She violated you. If you don’t let me go, then mom will and mom will knock her ass on the floor before she even has a chance to open her mouth because we aren’t letting you go alone.”

“You have a point,” he chuckled, nodding his head. “Okay. You have as much of a right to make this decision as I do. But if you change your mind at any time, you can walk away.”

“So can you.” He smiled, letting you slide off the desk and pull him to his feet. “We should tell mom we’re going.”

He winced, suddenly dragging his feet. You got behind him and pushed, walking him down the hall. “We could always wait until morning?”

“Nope. We’re telling her our decision so you don’t chicken out on me in the morning.”

“Mom is scary,” he said just as she rounded the entrance to the hall, hands on her hips. 

“Why exactly am I scary?” She glanced between the two of you, eyes narrowing. “What are you up to?”

“Dad would love to tell you, wouldn’t he?”

“Traitor.”

Saturday

“You’re sure it’s safe?” asked Crew after your photoshoot session with him. He’d known about you and your dad’s trip to LA next Saturday since Tuesday but without fail, he brought it up every day, leery of you going.

“Crew Taylor Foxe. For the last time an armed bodyguard, two of them, will be with us when we meet her. It’s very safe,” you said. He slipped his hand in yours as you entered a secluded trail in the park, running his thumb over your skin. Soft little giggles started to leave his lips, your hand touching his forehead. “Please tell me you don’t have heat stroke or something.”

“Taylor huh? Did someone go on my IMDB page?” he laughed. 

“I was doing research on your past headshots!” you said as he kept on giggling. You took off his ball cap and attempted to give him a noogie. Only Crew easily kept you at bay, pulling his hat brim down over your eyes and proceeding to tickle you. “Crew!”

“Oh you knew it-” The rapid fire of a camera shutter made you both freeze. “Hey!”

“Just doing my job, man,” said a male voice. There were footsteps and you felt shade on you, Crew moving in front of you while you kept your head low. “Who’s the-”

“Delete the photo or I’ll have you arrested.”

“You can’t have me-”

“State law. It’s illegal in Texas to take voyeur style photos, like those from someone hiding around the corner, without the subjects consent. Fucking google it. Now,” Crew demanded. The man was silent, Crew moving a few steps away from you. 

“Mr. Foxe I have a job I-”

“You want pictures of me? Take them at promotional events where you have my permission for use. Take another picture of me in this state without my explicit permission, which you do not have either of ours, and I’ll sick every damn lawyer I have access to on you and whatever agency you work for.”

There were footsteps and Crew walked further away. You spun around, putting a hand over your face as your back was to them.

“I deleted it, alright?” said the paparazzi. “You can back off.”

“Go back to LA. I see you again, I’ll charge you with stalking.” Crew’s hand was quickly on your lower back, walking you back the way you’d come. “I am so sorry.”

“Crew it’s fine. People have been taking pictures of me without permission forever. And he should know the law. It’s different here than in Cali.”

“I know. Your dad told me about it when I moved here. But we have a problem. That pap might not have a picture but he has a story to tell.”

“Fuck,” you said, stopping in your tracks. “He’s going to leak that you have a girlfriend. Or…we just let him say what he says and anyone that asks we call him a liar. He’s sketchy anyways right?”

“But he’s technically not a liar,” he said. “Crap. I didn’t realize it’d be this hard to keep it a secret.”

“I have an idea if you trust me.” 

“You don’t even have to ask.” You gave his hand a squeeze and quickly walked the two of you back towards where the paparazzi was, currently wiping off the sweat on his forehead. “Hi.”

He jumped at the noise, watching you lift the brim of Crew’s hat. “Wait. You’re Ackles kid. You two-”

“Do you like photography?” He blinked a few times as you held up your camera from around your neck. “Do you like photography?”

“Uh, yeah. Obviously.” You stepped closer, still holding it up. “I said I wouldn’t take a picture. But this is a story I can sell.”

“Show me the best photo you’ve got on your camera.” He stared and you turned yours around, showing him a picture of Crew being goofy when you were setting up shots earlier. “This is the best one on mine right now. Subjectively speaking. There’s much better ones but this is my favorite. What’s yours?”

He waited a moment before pressing through some buttons on his camera, showing you the screen. It was of the Austin sunset over the city, bats flying out from under one of the bridges. 

“That’s a gorgeous shot,” you said. He nodded, letting his camera rest against his torso again. 

“Sorry kids but I got bills and shit like this doesn’t get me a paycheck.”

“I understand. But your talent is wasted on taking blurry pictures of celebrities. You could easily do still work. You work in freaking LA. There’s countless studios that need them.”

“And there’s a million more guys like me that want those jobs. In the real world, this is how I get paid.” You nodded, going back to Crew. “Why’d you show me your face?”

“Because before I was a faceless woman. Now I’m Y/N, a real person that you telling this story will affect. So sell your story. Go ahead. Call your boss or whoever right now. Just have the decency to look me in the face like a man when you make money off of me and someone I care about.”

His gaze lowered as he wiped more sweat off of his brow. “Alright, alright. I won’t say shit. Happy?”

“Very. Oh and word of advice? Shop that picture around to some of the galleries in town before you leave. Some rich bastard would love to have something like that in their fancy ass loft apartment downtown.”

“I ain’t going to make more than a hundred bucks on something like that,” he said.

“Dude when’s the last time you did research on the market? That picture on large scale canvas or printing with marketing rights to the owner? You’re looking closer to five hundred minimum. There’s a ton of food places that would love a shot like that too. Do a time cost analysis and you’ll see you’ll save time and make more money doing your own work rather than taking pictures of people for cash.”

“You’re serious?”

“She had a very successful photography business in Atlanta. It’s possible if you put in the work,” said Crew, grabbing your hand.

“You’re not just bullshitting me so I don’t sell your story right?”

Twenty minutes later you were walking away from Jake, Crew shaking his head and smiling as you. “What?”

“How the hell did you get that guy to not only not sell a profitable story but also develop a rough business plan with him for his own startup in less than thirty minutes?”

“You get further with honey then spice.”

“Yeah but you’re spicy honey, kid,” he chuckled. He squeezed your hand before dropping it, voices in the distance carrying down the trail. “I mean it. You’re kind in a way people need more of in their lives.”

“I’m not always kind, Crew. I’m just deeply protective of the people I care about. Sometimes you do that with a battering ram, sometimes with a gentle touch.”

“I could learn with doing that gentle touch more often,” he said quietly. You shook your head, Crew fixing his hat you still wore. “I got angry when he took that picture of us. And I’m angry with the idea of your egg donor being near you again. I just…I need to know you’ll be safe.”

“Your protectiveness is an attractive quality, Crew. There’s a difference between anger and violence. People forget that. You were not violent with that pap, only angry, only protective. My dad would never let me near her without knowing I’m safe, that we both are. You might not think it but you are simultaneously the most gentle and strong man I’ve ever met.”

“Ever?” he asked. You hummed. “Even your dad?”

You bit your bottom lip, looking up coyly under the brim of his hat at him. “You really are awful at flirting.”

He started to laugh, smiling as you shook your head. “Yeah, I am. Let’s bring cocky Crew back to save me.”

“What would cocky Crew have said to that?” you asked, Crew tapping his chin with a devilish smile.

“Oh, he’d probably say something like looks like you got a new number one man in your life.” You rolled your eyes, Crew giggling. “You put me on the spot!”

“He’s number one dad love. You get number one…” you trailed off, swallowing thickly. Crew quickly grabbed your hand, pulling you off the trail and into the treeline behind a bush. You stared up at him, his dark brown eyes boring into yours. “Crew.”

“Don’t freak out on me,” he said. He leaned in close, brushing his lips over yours. “I love you. It’s not puppy love. It’s not a crush. I know what this is and what it isn’t and I love you, Y/N. I miss you every day when I’m not with you. I miss you when I’ve spent the whole day with you. When I saw you for the first time, I was gone. I knew exactly who I wanted to be with forever and I know it’s insane and you probably think I’m insane and you’re going to run away and think I’m a freak but-”

“God we need to work on your self-esteem. Now stop talking and fucking kiss me because I love you too you nervous idiot.” He slammed his lips to yours, hand gently gripping the back of your neck as you moved your mouths together. He was warm, tongue slowly devouring you, gently teasing before finding it’s confidence and taking ownership of the kiss.

“I might be an idiot but this idiot caught you,” he grinned, brushing his nose against yours, tickling your cheek with the back of his knuckles. “Unless you’re too proud to admit it.”

“You caught me a long time ago, Crew,” you whispered. 

“Good,” he murmured, lips pressed against the shell of your ear. “Cause you caught me the second I laid eyes on you. It’s about time we were even.”

“Such a dork,” you laughed, heart swelling up and instantly easing as he embraced you in his arms. “Honey?”

“Kid.” He hummed, squeezing you tighter.

“I’m so proud of you for risking your heart again after everything you’ve been through. I’ll be gentle with it, I promise.”

“I trust you,” he whispered. “You have all my pieces and I know it’s because you’re the one that’ll keep them safe.” He smiled, shaking his head. “God, I can’t believe I just said that.”

“Don’t be embarrassed, Crew.” He rested his chin on your shoulder.

“I’m not. I can tell you anything. But it’s so strange. You’re the only person in the world I feel like I could say the stupidest, dumbest, most cliche shit and you’re not going to think I’m a loser.”

“You’re a loser because you’re a fan of the Kansas City Chiefs, not because you’re open with your feelings.” He chuckled, the deep rumble of his chest reverberating through your body.

“Being a romantic? That’s a plus but my football team is what is questionable?” he laughed.

“We’re a Cowboys family, Mr. Foxe. You best learn that,” you said, Crew picking you straight up so you were eye level with him. 

“Oh I’ll convert you. I can be very convincing,” he said, pressing his lips to yours. “Plus I won’t ever let you down if you don’t say Chiefs are the best team in the history of the universe so…”

“There’s the fatal flaw in your plan, Crew. I happen to like the view up here,” you teased. He immediately set you down and peeled himself away. “No! Not fair!”

“Shouldn’t have told me what you like, kid,” he laughed, taking hold of your hand. “I suppose you can like that awful team. I can’t expect you to be completely perfect after all.”

“God no. Perfectionism has no place in this relationship. It’s like you and your enjoyment of, what was it you were trying to get me to eat last night?”

“Excuse me but cow tongue is delicious when prepared correctly.” You stared at him, shaking your head. “It’s amazing.”

“You’re psychotic but I love you anyways,” you said, Crew grinning like an idiot. “Oh? Does someone like when I say that?”

“Yeah, he does.” He slid his hands down to your hips, tilting his head. “Stay over tonight.”

“Okay.” You leaned up and kissed the tip of his nose. “Crew.”

“Next year. I’m still nervous about going to Christmas in the first place. If we tell Jensen and it gets awkward, I don’t know if I can handle all of that at once.” 

“Hey. I’m all for waiting until we’re both comfortable. It’s our business and no one else's. Just wondering if you still wanted to hit up the brewery today?”

“Yeah and then I want to take you to dinner at this hole in the wall place I found. Matt, our key grip, he was telling me about it. I’m pretty sure even you don’t know about it,” he said, proudly turning his chin up. 

“Oh well let’s see if it lives up to the hype, hm?”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

One Week Later

“What’s the name of this place again?” asked your dad as you walked through the airport in LA. You fixed your backpack, your dad’s slung over one of his shoulders. 

“Asador. It’s a little taco place and it is officially in my top three tacos I’ve ever had.” 

“Damn. It must be good then,” he said as you approached a familiar pickup spot in the airport, multiple drivers standing around holding signs or ipads with names on them. You both paused, glancing the line before you saw your name. You took a step when he caught your backpack, gaze going to meet his. “Are you sure you want to see Abigail? I can do this on my own.”

“I’m sure,” you said with a nod, even if your stomach felt queasy. “It’s not for a few hours right?”

“No,” he said, walking over to the man holding up a sign. You followed him outside to where two different SUVs were parked, large men in plain clothes inside. He held up a finger to the driver with a smile, the driver nodding and leaving you alone. “I promised my agent I’d get a lunch with him in person and go over a few opportunities. It’s probably going to take a little while and be boring as hell. Why don’t you take my card and go shopping?”

You glanced over your shoulder at the second SUV, the man behind the wheel sporting sunglasses and a flat expression. “Dad. Tell me you didn’t actually hire private security for this trip.”

“I won’t tell you then,” he said, patting you towards the car, slipping his credit card into your jeans pocket. “Go have fun for a few hours. The guys will drive you to meet up with me when we talk to Abigail.”

“Fine.” You pointed a finger at him, poking him in the chest. “But only because you have them too it looks like and I know you’re overprotective and this makes you feel better.”

“Honey bun.” He smiled, his face soft. “It’s not just so I feel better. You don’t have to feel scared for a second while we’re here, okay?”

“Okay,” you said, closing your eyes, slowly opening them. “Will they take me wherever I want to go?”

“Yup. They are there for peace of mind only.”

“Maybe we’ll go to the beach, let me take some shots,” you said, reaching into your backpack, pulling out your camera bag.

“Knock your socks off. I got to run, sweetie. I’ll meet up with you soon and then we’ll go, alright?”

“Later,” you said as he pecked a kiss to your temple and hopping into his SUV after you’d opened your back door. Inside there were three large men in jeans and t shirts, one wearing a light hoodie. “Hi.”

“Ms. Ackles,” said the other one in the back, reaching out a hand to take your bag. You handed him your backpack and slid inside, taking a deep breath. “Is there anywhere in particular you’d like to go?”

“The beach maybe. You guys have any good suggestions for places to take some good pictures?” you asked, holding up your camera. They seemed to communicate silently before the one in the driver’s seat cracked a smile. 

“Yeah, I think we can come up with something.”

“This is great,” you said, standing on the roof of the guy’s building. Their agency was a few floor downs but you had an amazing shot of the skyline and hollywood sign. Gratefully the air was clearer than usual and you were able to get some gorgeous pictures of the city from above. 

When you were finished you stood up, stretching slightly, turning to find them sat up on top of some ledge, laughing to themselves. You snapped a quick picture of them, all three suddenly tensing. “Don’t worry, bodyguards. I’m not going to do anything with it but send you a nice picture of you guys in an email.”

“Worrying is kind of our default state,” chuckled Rodger as he hopped down to the roof with ease. 

“Even on safe jobs,” said Tony, Kit rolling his eyes. 

“We all know we’re here cause your dad is the worrier,” he said to which you hummed. “See? She knows there’s no danger.”

“We still act professionally in front of a client, Kit,” said Rodger who if you had to guess, was the one in charge of this little group. All three looked to be in their mid thirties and as fit as any male celebrity and then some. “Ms. Ackles-”

“No. God no,” you said, shaking your head. “Y/N please. And my dad already told me you guys are just here to make us both feel better so please don’t be formal. I’m stuck with you guys for a few more hours so I’d rather it not be incredibly awkward, you know?”

“I’m with her,” said Tony. “It’s an easy job for once. We’ll do an appropriate amount of worrying, Rodger, and show Y/N around to a few places to take pictures like she wants. Sound good?”

“As long as we stop and get some lunch from somewhere along the way, it’s good with me,” said Kit. 

“My treat. Where do we want to grab lunch?” you asked. Rodger sighed but smiled. “Your pick, buddy.”

“Alright. Alright. I suppose I could go for a bite.”

Three Hours Later

“Kit.” He hummed from behind the wheel. “Do you know where we’re supposed to meet my dad? I think we need to meet my…meet Abigail soon.”

The cheery mood in the car evaporated, all three of them suddenly closed off.

“Guys?” You turned to Rodger sat beside you, his gaze hidden behind a pair of dark shades as he stared out the window. “What’s going on?”

“Mr. Ackles instructed us to accompany you today,” said Kit. You narrowed your eyes, checking the clock on the dash.

“And that’s what you’ve done and now we need to go meet my birth mom.”

“We were instructed to drop you off at Santa Monica Pier at five.”

“But the meeting with Abigail is at three.” None of them looked at you as you put a hand on the door. The sound of it locking echoed in the small space. “Someone tell me what’s going on now. Where’s my dad?”

“Perfectly safe with his team,” said Tony. You growled, Rodger lifting the shades off his head, giving you his full attention.

“Your father was set to meet with Abigail shortly after your flight landed. The team has been sending us updates. He is perfectly safe. The rest is for him to tell you.”

You breathed hard, shaking your head. “You three are not here for his peace of mind or mine. You’re fucking babysitters so I didn’t go to that meeting.”

“We are private security to a client that hired us for peace of mind. We are not your babysitters.”

“Then take me to this meeting right now.”

“It’s over already.” You huffed, crossing your arms as you glared out your window. “Kit. Take us to the pier.”

“Hey kiddo.” You wiped your eyes from where you sat on the sand hours later, camera settled by your side. The guys were close by but giving you your space, Kit only daring to come over once to bring you a bottle of water. Your dad sat beside you, sighing and stretching out his legs. “I understand your anger and that I hurt you.”

“I am not a little girl. I am a grown woman. I have a job and pay taxes and have sex and orgasms and drink and swear and I’m a damn adult,” you spat out, whipping your head around, surprised to see him smiling. “What are you so happy about?”

“You’re strong. I’m proud of that.” You lost some of your fury, lowering your head to your chest. “I know you are not a child and I’m sorry if you think that’s what I was doing today.”

“What exactly were you doing?” you shot back. “Going to see that awful woman alone? Was that your genius plan?”

“My job as your father is to protect you and that doesn’t stop just because you’re an adult. And trust me, as much as I want to protect you from it all, I can’t and don’t. You need to make your own mistakes, have shit happen to you so you can learn from it. But Y/N, I need you to understand that while I respect you as an adult that makes her own choices, I swore I would never let you near that woman again. You want to be pissed, go right ahead but I will take a pissed off daughter that is safe over one that is scared and could get hurt any day.”

You sighed, lightly punching his arm. “I’m not stupid, dad. I know you’re trying to keep me safe. But you’re the one she was obsessed with. You shouldn’t have gone by yourself.”

“I wasn’t. I had about five guys with me.” You glanced over your shoulder, Rodger and Kit talking with a group of similarly jacked looking guys. “I didn’t tell you everything. Parents do that.”

“Dad. What happened today?” He leaned back, palms digging into the sand as he took in the warmth from the setting sun. “Is it over?”

“Yup,” he said, popping his ‘p’. “You don’t have to worry about Abigail again.”

“Please tell me the truth? I think I’m owed that for being left in the dark.” 

“Y/N,” he said, closing his eyes, tilting his head back. “I’m sorry for tricking you today, honey bun. But you are as stubborn as me and it was the only way I could guarantee you were okay.”

You sat back and rested your head against his shoulder. “You’re not going to tell me, are you.”

“I met with her along with an undercover detective posing as a friend. She said some things that confirmed our suspicions. Those things in turn were a violation of her parole. The detective and lawyer said it’ll be revoked and she’ll need to finish her original sentencing.”

You turned your head up, his eyes still closed. “She had to have done something really bad today, something illegal.”

“She did something bad when she got out…and she was planning to do something bad today. She doesn't like either one of us very much.”

“She’s going back to prison for sure?”

“The second she contacted me I called the lawyer and we called the police here. They’ve been watching her all week. They could have made a case on what she did but it was stronger by having me go to the meeting with her.” He sat up, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “We’re okay, I promise.”

“If it was truly that bad-”

“Y/N.” He sighed deeply. “She wanted to try a ransom again and that is as much detail as I am ever giving you. Please respect that.”

“Okay,” you said, holding up your hands. “I just…”

“I know. I wouldn’t have done what I did today unless it was perfectly safe.”

“Might I ask why that one bodyguard guy back there looks a hell of a lot like you?” He groaned, throwing his head back. “It wasn’t safe, was it. That guy pretended to be you at the meet.”

“That one is actually a cop,” he said, running a hand over his face. “Fine. Yes, they didn’t want me to meet her in person for safety reasons. But they got what they needed and she’s back behind bars. It’s airtight.”

“It’s not entrapment?”

“No. That was one of my first questions. Just…just forget today happened. She’s gone and you never have to think about her again.”

“What about when she’s like ninety and gets released and she’s still psycho?” you asked, half-joking.

“Then I’ll get you some really hot bodyguard in his twenties to follow you around and make your husband jealous.” 

“I’m okay with this,” you said, your dad chuckling. He pulled you into a hug, holding on tight. “Promise me if you won’t talk to me about the whole truth you’ll tell someone?”

“Mom knows but yeah, I can promise that.” He inhaled sharply, running his thumb over your cheek. “I’m so sorry Abigail turned out the way she did. A woman that doesn’t want to be a mother is one thing. Being cruel is another. You didn’t deserve that.”

“You didn’t deserve to be taken advantage of or hurt like you were. We can agree she’s awful and never waste another breath on her.”

“I second that,” he said, tucking your hair behind your ear. “So. I got us a reservation for dinner at your favorite restaurant before our flight back just in case you were still pissed.”

“You’re a smart man,” you said as you stood up, brushing yourself off. 

“Food always fixes your mother right up when she’s mad,” he laughed. “Did you do anything fun today?”

“Oh yeah,” you said, handing him back his credit card. “You bought my Christmas present today.”

He froze, narrowing his eyes. “You went to the Nikon store again, didn’t you.”

“Don’t you wish I liked heels?” you teased before grabbing his hand and heading towards the guys, your backpack still with them. “It’s the Sigma ultra wide angle, F2.8 aperture-”

“Well you can’t have it until Christmas,” he said. 

“But think of all the wonderful pre-Christmas memories I could make with it if I had it now?” you asked, your dad’s jaw tight. “Please? For being a liar liar pants on fire today?”

“First off, I made the right call. Second, now that I know you really want it, I might have to hoard it until your birthday.” Your jaw dropped, turning his grimace into a smile. “Be good for Santa and maybe you’ll get it Christmas Eve.”

“Fine. But Santa could throw in some money for my photoshop subscription to appease me?”

“Such a needy child,” he laughed. “Yeah, he can swing that. Anything else you want?”

“I’m good. But we should get Crew something nice, his first holiday and all,” you said, a little grateful you had some time alone today to do some shopping for him without any watchful eyes.

“I got Crew’s present handled. You find your own,” he said, ruffling your hair. “He’s your best friend. Just ask him what he wants. That’s what I told him to do for you when he tried to pick my brain.”

You had to hide your blush at the idea of Crew trying to figure out what to get for you. 

“You want to grab dinner now?” he asked, shaking you from your thoughts. 

“Yeah. Sounds good to me, dad.”

_______

A/N: Read the final part here!

#jensen x daughter!reader #Jensen x daughter!reader series #Jensen Ackles #daughter!reader #reader x omc

[hopefulatrocity]

From The Ashes-Chapter 7

Note:  Note: First off, thank you for your likes and comments. This is a lot later post than I intended it to be. I’m working really hard on Chapter 9 and it’s taking me longer than I thought. That chapter is when Pheonyx and Daryl officially start the search for Sophia.  So, they’re alone and there isn’t a lot of show dialogue for me to bounce off of. I had a couple days of writer's block and I’ve been working slowly on it. I keep rearranging how I want their conversation to go and also rewatching the season over and over to make sure I’m characterizing Daryl correctly. I want it to be believable. Long story short, I don’t want to post chapter 8 until I have 9 done, so it might be a bit until I’ve posted it. I think once I get over this hump, since it’s the first one on one scene with Daryl and Pheonyx(with Kismet as his wingman) that I’ll be able to write faster. Hopefully. Also sorry for how short this is. The last chapter and this one was originally one chapter but I want to keep my chapters around the same length(3-4k) and it ended up over 6k. So I split it up. 

Chapter TW/CW: internal homophobia, transphobia, descriptions of past abuse, denial of sexuality?(Not sure how to describe it), self-deprecating thoughts, parental death.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @omiyours

Banner by: @liminal-creations​ 

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Masterlist

DARYL'S POV

As Daryl was making his way away from the service, fully intending to head straight into the woods to continue the search for Sophia, Rick caught up to his long strides and cut him off. The cop stood in front of him and Daryl narrowed his eyes at the man. 

“Before you head out, I want to get the group together to make a plan for the search.”, Rick said. 

“Ain’t got time for that, man. Shoulda been out at first light lookin’ for the girl.”, Daryl snapped, annoyed at being held up. 

Rick placed his hands on his hips, one hand hovering on the grip of his Colt Python. “Just listen, please. Hershel’s stepson has offered his help for the search. And I’d like you to partner up with him.” Daryl was about to cut in, but Rick continued,  “He’s an experienced tracker and hunter, and he knows these woods better than any of us do. He says he’s been working with his dog on scent tracking, too. With both of you, and the dog, looking for Sophia, I think we have a better chance of finding her.” 

Daryl shook his head, irritated. He worked better alone. His focus needed to be on finding the girl and he couldn’t do that with someone else following him around. Having the group with him yesterday was bad enough. The woods were his domain, his comfort zone. Some stranger on his coattails, mucking up the trails, and making noise while he was trying to concentrate, wasn’t something he wanted to deal with. Not when a little girl’s life was on the line. 

As if reading his mind, Rick said, “Just talk to him. That’s all I ask. If you don’t want to work with him after that, then fine.” 

Daryl wanted to tell him off, or to just walk away. Before he could, Rick was turning and waving a hand to call over Pheonyx, who had been walking back towards the house from Otis’s tribute. Daryl noticed a slight hesitation and stiffening of the man’s body as he looked between Rick and himself. But it was gone in a blink of an eye. The hound dog followed behind Pheonyx and they both stopped in front of the two men. 

Rick smiled at the younger man. Daryl felt his ears warm as Pheonyx lifted the corners of his mouth in return. The heat spread to his face as the other man’s green eyes met his own. The light shade of green reminded him of the pair of fern plants his momma planted in front of their trailer when he was 7 years old. The old mobile home had been extremely run down. Paint was peeling off the walls and several windows had cracks or were missing from his Pa’s violent outbursts. The small grass patch in front of the trailer was often overgrown and full of weeds. But his momma wanted to fix the place up. Unfortunately they didn’t have a lot of money for paint, or pretty flowers to plant. They didn’t have a lot of money for anything really. Momma worked as a waitress at the local diner but most of the money she made, his Pa stole to use for drugs or alcohol. He remembered the day she brought home those little ferns though. His Pa had been off on a bender for a week, like usual. She carried the tiny plants in with a huge smile on her face. They'd been on clearance at the local hardware store because some of the leaves were dried out but his momma was convinced it just needed a little love and care. That afternoon, Daryl and Merle helped her clean up the yard. Merle borrowed the neighbor’s push mower to mow the small yard and Daryl helped Momma weed the area around the front door. He and Merle dug the small holes on either side of the door for the plants, stopping to throw dirt at each other occasionally. When the ferns were planted, the trio stood, Momma’s arms wrapped around both boys’ shoulders, and looked at the trailer. It was still shitty. The paint was still falling off and there was still cardboard on the windows. But the little plants with dried leaves made it look like home. Over the next couple of years, as his mother’s depression and alcohol problems grew, so did the plants. They grew so big that his Pa forced him to cut part of them down because he kept tripping on the long leaves when he would stumble home at night. Despite that, the plants thrived and every time Daryl saw them, he was reminded of that day with Merle and momma. The look of joy on her face. It was one of the few happy memories he had with her. And it was all destroyed the day the trailer caught fire.

The ferns burned away. Right along with his momma. 

Daryl felt his heart ache at the reminder of his mother. But the green of Pheonyx’s eyes still reminded him of that happy day and he was almost entranced. He barely even registered Rick standing next to him. 

“Pheonyx, this is Daryl Dixon. He’s the tracker I mentioned yesterday. He’s been headin’ up the search for Sophia. Daryl, this is Hershel’s stepson. Both Maggie and Hershel say he is an expert on the property and woods surrounding it. He’s offered his services-”, a loud bark from the mutt sitting at Pheonyx’s side had Rick pausing for a moment. “And his dog, to help find Sophia. I’d appreciate it if you two would work together to head up the search for her.”

The arms he had crossed over his chest tensed. As entranced as he was by the man across from him, he couldn’t work with him. In all honesty, he was slightly scared of the emotions he was feeling. They were unraveling the identity that he had clung to for so long. He hadn’t even spoken to Pheonyx yet and his stomach was already in knots. He had to stay far away from him. Maybe then, the feelings would go away. He wanted to lash out at Rick, at Pheonyx, the emotional turmoil raging in his head. But that wouldn’t do anything besides alienate himself further from this group. It might even put them in jeopardy of being kicked off the farm. And he couldn’t do that to them. 

“Work better alone”, he grunted at the man, not even looking at Rick. 

Pheonyx gave a nod, not taking offense to what he said. “So do I. But I spent last night creating a plan for the search. We can split up tomorrow but I need your help at least for today. I’ve been working with Kismet,” he tilted his head towards the dog at his side, some of his brown hair falling over his forehead. Daryl fought the urge to reach out and brush it back. “, on scent tracking for the last month. I need you to take me to exactly where she and Rick split up. He can follow her trail from there. It hasn’t rained so he shouldn’t have too much trouble.”

The sound of the younger man’s voice was like a soft blanket draping over his sweaty shoulders, it eased the tension in his muscles on contact. The sound wasn’t deep but husky and light. Creeping around his head like smoke from a campfire and easing the ever-present vigilance that Daryl had grown accustomed to. Almost losing his train of thought over the drug-like effect of Pheonyx’s voice, Daryl looked towards the sheriff, wondering why he couldn’t be the one to show the other man where Sophia went missing. As if reading his mind, Pheonyx continued, “Rick needs to stay here for Carl and Lori. And Shane fucked up his ankle at the high school. Or else one of them would take me.”

Pheonyx was right about Rick. Daryl couldn’t, in good conscience, ask the man to leave his son, who had just been at death’s door the day prior. And his stomach clenched at the idea of sending Pheonyx off with Shane. Daryl wasn’t entirely certain about Pheonyx’s gender identity. He could just be a biological male with more feminine features. But he suspected the man was transgender. It was no issue to him, but he had a fair idea that it would be an issue to Deputy Douchebag. Shane wasn’t as openly hateful as Merle was, but he was judgmental and sexist. Merle was a loud hateful person. He screamed and hurled slurs, made threats but he rarely ever reached the point of violence, unless he was high. But Shane, his hate was a simmering cauldron, just on the cusp of boiling. Quiet little bubbles that could easily lead to an exploding pot.   At the Quarry, the man kept camp duties fairly segregated in regards to gender. Women weren’t ever allowed on watch or runs, and were mostly kept to cleaning and cooking duties. Shane made the argument every time that the women weren’t trained and therefore would be liabilities. But he also refused to do gun training for anyone, citing lack of ammo as the reasoning. He didn’t go on long winded rants like Merle did. He chose sly comments and verbal digs as his weapons of choice. Offhand comments about “women’s work” and snorts when Andrea offered help with watches or runs. While Shane had never specifically said anything about LGBT people, Daryl just had a feeling that the man’s views would not be friendly. And with his suspicions regarding Otis’s untimely death, Daryl refused to put Pheonyx in the possible firing lane. Why he cared so much about a man he just met was something he was trying to avoid thinking about. 

Despite his personal preferences of working alone, and avoiding any more contact with Pheonyx to quell the feelings building in his chest, Daryl had to admit that having a scent tracking dog would give them a leg up in finding Sophia. Looking down at the dog, he had to contain a snort. The pup was on his back, body curled around, chewing on his back leg like it was a rawhide. He met Pheonyx’s gaze. 

“That mutt is a tracker? He don’t look like he’s got much goin’ on behind those eyes.” 

Pheonyx’s eyes drew together in confusion and he looked down at Kismet. Daryl noted a blush spreading across his tan cheeks when he realized what the dog was doing. At the sheepish look, he couldn’t contain his snort, and he heard Rick chuckle along beside him. 

The younger man nudged the dog with his boot, causing him to roll over into a regular down position. Daryl heard him mutter something unintelligible. Pheonyx stood firm though, the conviction in his expression settling in Daryl’s chest. 

“Okay, Kismet may not be the brightest crayon in the box, I’ll admit. But when he’s got a job he works hard. Unfortunately, you guys don’t have the luxury of shopping for a certified dog. I stand by him though. We’ve only tracked wildlife so far, but I would bet my life on this ‘mutt’”

Despite the voice in his brain telling him it was a bad idea, Daryl nodded his agreement to work with him and the dog. His heart sped up a bit at the thought of working closely with Pheonyx, but he brushed it off. He’d work with him to find Sophia. Then that was it. He’d back off and these intense feelings would fade. 

He hoped.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @yoongibaybee, @edgyboi10000

#daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl x oc #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x trans!reader #the walking dead #fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon x trans!oc #daryl dixon x oc #daryl x omc #daryl x ftm oc #daryl x male oc

[artemiseamoon]

Under a Golden Sun

Past! Benny x f reader | current omc x f reader

An a03 fic

Status: COMPLETE

Ao3 link here

About: Living a dream life on a remote island in Australia, everything seems perfect on the surface. You have your man, your cottage, and everything you could wish for. The only thing that's missing is your first love, Benny Miller.

Full Chapters ✨Links will lead you to A03

Tumblr previews

One | two, two | three | four

Warnings

Adult 18+ content, mentions of addictions and drinking too much, depression and feeling directionless, loneliness and longing, sexual content, m/f/m dynamics. Poly themes. Read at your own discretion.

There is weed smoked in this fic, and the consumption of alcohol. I am very aware many people do not do these things. So, my advice, just read the RC as an OFC instead, that way something you don’t personally do won't be applied to you.

Etc

Pairings

Past Benny Miller x Female RC *, Omc Daniel Allan (fc: Aaron Taylor Johnson) x Female RC*

* Reading options:

read as an OC

read as a female RC (any size and any race) (RC means reader character) - RC did go to high school with Benny tho, so they are very close in age, or the same age

OMC

Aaron is gorgeous either way, but i imagine his look from Savages, with his regular curly/ wavy hair

In my OG drabble, I noticed in editing, Daniel was already pretty similar to Aaron's character Ben, which is so kismet. So, I left it that way with some tweaks.

MOODBOARDS

#Benny miller #Ben miller #Benny triple frontier #Benny x f reader #Benny x ofc #omc x f reader #fic: under a Golden sun