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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

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Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 8- Bastards From Space

Summary: These past couple years in Wakanda with Bucky have been the best. Who would have thought some aliens would be the thing to ruin it all.

Warning: violence, angst, reader being a bad bitch, things get intense

Masterlist

Today had started as normal as ever, you woke up with Bucky’s arm slung over your face, his body practically covering you like a human blanket. Then you two got out of bed, did your usual morning routines, and started your day with helping the Wakandians with whatever tough job needed done for the next however many hours.

Which as of now happens to be chopping wood; you sit comfortably on a spared thick log while Bucky smashes the Vibranium axe into another chunk of wood while you watch him with a mischievous smirk playing at your lips. “You’re doing a fantastic job with that by the way.”

Bucky sets another one down as a smile pulls at his handsome face, “Oh yeah?”

“Yes, your form is just...amazing.” You applaud, making a chefs kiss motion with your fingers as he chuckles before splitting another hunk in two.

“You know..” Starts Bucky as he sets the axe against his shoulder while you rest your knuckles against your chin, “this would go a lot faster if you helped me.”

“Then I wouldn’t be able to watch you doing your thing....and by the way you look real fine, did I mention that already?” You add with a click of your tongue while he throws you a humored glare of affection.

“I could use your help.”

You point to the wagon seated next to you, “I did, I threw all these bags and split wood in here so now I’m taking my earned break that I obviously get because I finished my job. You on the other hand don’t deserve an earned break.”

Bucky huffs, deciding to ignore your little bout of sass that so unmistakably is targeted to rile him up, so instead does he mumble out something incomprehensible just for himself to hear, “Yeah, and if we were in that hut I’d show you an earned break.”

Snickering, you cross your arms while studying Bucky’s concentrated face; his dark mane is all wet and unwashed, clothes a bit dirty and unkept with some sweat stains marking them from when you two sparred each other that morning. But God if you don’t think he’s the most beautiful creature to have ever walked this earth in your lifetime. How did you ever get so lucky?

He’s been a true beacon of hope and refuge since Romania, and you’re for certain that if not for one another’s found love. You’d both be much lonelier people.

“What’r you thinking about?” Mutters Bucky while you return from your drifting thoughts. Though soon you’re alerted to the sounds of walking in the grass that draws your attention to the hillside. “Why the fuck is T’Challa here?” You move to stand and a moment later King T’Challa and a couple of the Dora Milaje are walking down the grassy hill with something in their arms to greet the two of you. The king of Wakanda appears a tad bit distressed, face unusually more serious then what marks his features most days. You immediately know something is wrong.

Bucky shares a wary glance with you as the king greets you two with a nod, “Mr. Barnes, Miss. Valerious.” One of his guardsmen unclasps the long black case only to reveal a Wakandian styled metal arm.

Bucky purses his lips as he looks down at the new appendage, “Where’s the fight.”

King T’Challa gives the two of you a hard expression, “On it’s way.”

——

After learning about some angry aliens on their way to take the mind stone from Vision, and that a good portion of the rouge Avengers are on their way to Wakanda. You and Bucky knew deep down something wild must be stirring in the universe for something as big as this to happen, something very bad indeed.

You just have no idea what.

Clasping your black armored top together, you move to put on the Wakandian black leathered Vibranium gauntlets that were gifted to you for this special occasion, not that it’s really that special, but you do look cool. The new armor feels solid and stable against your forearm as you focus on tightening the clasps when suddenly you can feel Bucky’s eyes on you.

“I know you’re looking at me.” You muse, side eyeing him.

He smiles, eyes never leaving you as you lock in the armor to your forearm. He studies the brilliant dark attire that’s laced with a vibrant golden hue, “You look like a warrior.” Admits Bucky almost in awe of how you’re currently looking.

You nod, “I’d feel a little out of place next to the Dora Milaje....but uh, this suit is nice.” You add with a shrug, “Comfortable and practical, they really know how to size right.”

“Yeah....” Mumbles Bucky with a breathy laugh while you focus on the task at hand, oblivious as to where his gaze wanders all over your vessel and the parts your new attire ever-so-slightly accentuates. He just thinks you’re so beautiful no matter how you look, and right now, in Bucky’s head you’re one fine specimen.

“How’s the new arm?”

Bucky’s wandering eyes soon shift down to the new dark plated Vibranium and golden laced metalwork, “Feels light. Like it’s apart of me you know? I still can’t believe how amazing their tech is.”

“I know right..” You pause for a moment, glancing warily over to the clock, “Well, guess we better get moving. Okoye said they’ll be here soon.” Bucky nods before zipping his jacket up the rest of the way and walking over to your side. He stops to buckle down the left side of your Wakandian styled black vest while you happily let him. Enjoying how close he is to you and the adorable way he sticks his tongue out when fully focused on a task.

Once done, Bucky takes a look at his handiwork, reaching to clasp your one hand with his. He smiles though a sadness hides behind those beautiful blues, “To battle?” Whispers Bucky.

Reaching a hand up to place a soft touch against his stubbled cheek, you smile fearlessly, “To battle.”

Soon the two of you are outside of T’Challa’s palace, standing off to the side as the king and his warriors greet the approaching Quinjet as it lands on the stone landing pad. A minute later, you catch the sight of a bearded Steve, a blonde haired Natasha, Sam, Bruce Banner, and lastly Wanda and Vision as they walk out side by side.

Vision looks hurt, and Wanda has a scar above her brow. Wonder what brute did that?

T’Challa welcomes the team before he nods and turns for them to follow, Vision and Wanda walk past you two as you finally see them clearer through the parting crowd, “How we looking?” Asks Natasha as she follows behind the king, Steve to her immediate right, the others following close behind them.

“You will have my Kingsguard, the Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje, and...”

“And a semi-stable 100-year-old man.” Quips Bucky as all of you finally come face to face with one another, Steve immediately smiles as you walk next to Bucky. “Plus whatever the hell I am.” You jest as the two of them go in for a hug.

Natasha gives you a smirk as they part, “How you guys been?�� Asks Steve, blue eyes flickering between you two.

Bucky looks over at you and shrugs, “Uh, not bad...”

“....for the end of the world.” You deadpan, causing Bucky to chuckle as well as Steve and Natasha.

“Well, it’s nice seeing you guys again...” Adds Steve as Natasha takes a step forward towards you. “We gotta stop meeting each other like this.” Quips the ex-assassin.

You snort at the little inside joke between the two of you, raising a brow at them, “You know, you guys don’t have to visit just because some aliens are threatening our entire existence. Couldn’t we have saved a reunion for a wedding or something?”

Steve sighs, “Yeah, that would have been preferred.”

“Too bad none of you invited us.” Smirks Natasha as she looks between you and Bucky with a raised brow of her own, his stubbled face growing a small shade of pink while you awkwardly cough, eyes darting elsewhere.

“Yeah, we’re getting there, Nat.” You mutter while rubbing the back of your neck, the thought of marrying Bucky has never actually crossed your mind. You love him, its just, you two married? Actually married? Would he even want that? You have no idea, maybe talking about it before the alien situation would have been helpful in the long run. Too late for that now, guess another time then.

“Alright, come with me upstairs my friends, my sister will see what can be done for your friend.” Adds T’Challa as he takes a step back, Steve, Natasha, and Bruce all following suit and through the doors they go inside to assess the Vision situation upstairs. Leaving Sam and Rodney.

You watch as Natasha’s body disappears behind the dark glass before turning around to meet a smiling Sam as he wanders closer to you and Bucky. Undoubtedly about to give you two a proper Sam-like greeting, “Nice to see you two weirdos again.” Chuckles Sam as he takes in how much or little you and Bucky have changed since a couple years ago.

“Can’t say the same.” Muses Bucky as you snicker at Sam’s half-offended reaction.

“I guess.....maybe....possibly.....it’s nice to see your annoying face, again.” You add, voice dripping with sarcasm as he nods, “Better then you coming to try and arrest us.”

“Alright, I’ll take it.” He smiles, “At least someone cares about me after all this time.” Side eyeing Bucky as he holds back a laugh.

“Never said that.” You mutter while shaking your head at him, “Definitely did not miss you at all.”

“You were thinking it.” Points Sam, “So was Bucky.”

“I wasn’t.”

About ten minutes later, after fully catching one another up on the happenings missed by the distance and time apart, the hair on the back of your neck pricks with the sound of something large and unfamiliar breaking into the atmosphere above. Soon a smoking metal ship crashes into the forcefield high above your heads, an explosion of fire and debris blasts in its wake as the destroyed object slides off the sides.

“God, I love this place.” Mutters Bucky as the three of you look to the sky.

“Yeah, don’t start celebrating yet, guys. We got more incoming outside the dome.” Announces Rodney on the ear coms as your face falls when more blasts crash against the protective outer barrier of Wakanda.

“Fuck......I’ve never met an alien before.” You mumble as they look to you now, your eyes wide and fearful as you stare up at the sky, “And I don’t think I want to.”

Soon more glaring fiery balls come racing past high up in the clouds headed straight for the Wakandian forcefield, violently crashing against it though nothing pierces through much to your great relief. Not even a minute later T’Challa and the rest of the team are on ground level with the rest of you. Urging everyone into the advanced Wakandian vehicles, you file in close to Bucky and Natasha as the driver begins making haste for the huge fields beyond.

Wind flies wildly past your face as you observe the growing smoke rising up from the broken and burning forest from where the aliens have landed, where they’re preparing for battle far behind the protective forcefield.

The hover vehicle reaches its destination on the knee high grass, immediately everyone files out; your boots fall into the soft ground as you find yourself on the field positioned in between Steve and Bucky while the rest of the Wakandian army keeps strong from your left, right and rear.

It’s a small comfort having everyone so near but it still feels like a false protection; Bruce is held in the Hulkbuster suit standing high and strong above the rest, while Rodney and Sam keep to the skies as they circle around in anticipation for what’s to go down.

You wish you felt better about this, but you’d be a lying fool if you claimed to feel dangerous and fearless, you’re not fighting against mortal men this time. These are beasts from a whole other world with no intention of sparing a life, they don’t care for human problems, they’re here for one single goal and that’s to take the mind stone.

Heart beating nervously in your chest, you turn a worried glance over to Bucky who’s holding a large machine gun in his left arm, he sends you a reassuring nod as T’Challa walks over to speak with Steve.

“There’s two by the perimeter, what our next move?”

“We’ve met the female one before, I guess we’ll go see if they can be reasoned with, though I’m afraid of their answer.” Begrudgingly replies Steve, eyes set ahead at two figures approaching the forcefield. One a tall broad scaled being and the other a half pale faced woman with two dark horns rising upward from her temples.

Steve, Natasha, and king T’Challa collectively decide to walk the distance to face them while everyone else remains in suspense. They speak for about a minute before walking back to the rest of you as the giant alien machinery shifts and rises with strange movement.

“They surrender?” Mutters Bucky as Steve takes his place by your side.

“Not exactly.” Well that sounds fucking promising.

Your body begins shaking with adrenaline as loud thunderous rumbling emits from the forest, a second later, large dog-like creatures race madly out of the tree line headed at a dead sprint for the forcefield.

“What the fuck.” You mutter, brows furrowed in confused bewilderment as the foreign creatures slam violently against the forcefield with little regard for what its doing to them.

Natasha hums, “Looks like we pissed her off.”

You nod as some of the beasts force their way through the guarded perimeter, they scream in fury and pain while their bodies and limbs get phased by the power of the giant shield protecting Wakanda.

“They’re killing themselves.” You can hear Okoye mutter in fearful bewilderment as the screaming creatures push through their violent assault, soon about a dozen break through, racing furiously over the shallow river and across the large battlefield to where everyone is standing.

King T’Challa shouts the battle cry as his army calls their technologically advanced shields to arms in an instant. The alien creatures thunder across the grass, getting closer and closer as the army around you begin shooting them down as fast as they can.

Bullets fly past your head as Bucky begins aiming for the beasts, shooting them down with great accuracy as you breath heavily from your growing adrenaline. Sam and Rodney shoot from the sky; you watch more fall but a plethora of others begins running off to the sides as they attempt at searching for an alternative way around the forcefield.

T’Challa realizing this, calls for the opening of North-West Section Seventeen, which is the one right in front of you all. Well this is it then, you think nervously. Dreading how the events of today may play out within the next hour, or ten minutes for all you know.

“This will be the end of Wakanda.” Mutters M’Baku as the section is lifted.

Okoye nods, face stoic and fierce, “Then it will be the most noble ending in history.”

T’Challa steps to the front lines before valiantly shouting, “Wakanda forever!” And with that does the warriors cry with courage and might as everyone including you begins a dead sprint across the grassy field, pumping your arms hard, you feel a thrill of strange excitement pulsing throughout your entire vessel as your boots thunder against the ground in tune with the beasts that charge onward.

Steve races inhumanly fast, you right on his tail as T’Challa makes ground to your immediate right. The rest of your fellow warriors keeping up as best they can. You don’t remember ever unsheathing your claws, or when they sliced violently into the thick skin of the first alien you met.

But soon your hands are covered in the warm inky blood of the creatures you’ve killed as you don’t have time to think, only kill and survive is all your mind is on. You’re practically on autopilot as the beasts thrash and slash at everyone in sight.

Suddenly one of them traps you between it’s bear paws and the rough ground, sharp daggered teeth chomping at your face as you drive your fist straight through it’s jugular and back out again, instantly a spurt of sticky dark purple blood sprays onto the side of your face as you turn away from the gory scene.

Shoving it off of you, another one punts you into the rocky earth, in retaliation you throw a clawed fist right across its shoulder. Making sure to sink it in deep when you reach its stomach. Screams of pain are all you hear as it dies, going still as stone while you jump right back into the action.

Without warning, about three pin you to the ground while you grunt and groan from the weight and their knife sized claws digging into your armored sides, damn you’ve really had better days. Shoving your Adamantium talons right through it’s exposed chest, it immediately goes limp as it’s two friends strain to reach you while it’s annoyingly bulky vessel pins you to the rough ground.

Your lungs struggle to take in a decent breath when suddenly a crack of lighting sounds throughout the battlefield, a second later the large alien bodies are thrown off of you from the force of bright white electricity, killing them instantly.

Sucking in a deep breath of relief and general oxygen, you jump to your feet only to take notice of a blonde man in some type of royal armor with an axe in one hand and sparks of lighting in the other. Oddly enough, a raccoon and a walking humanoid tree to either side as he scans the horizon before turning around and belting out, “Bring! Me! Thanos!” Before taking flight as more electricity sparks and shoots all around him.

Yeah, alright that’s normal. At least they’re on your side.

He lands and a giant plethora of white hot lighting emits all around him, killing many of the alien creatures where they stand. Though there’s no time to celebrate this small victory when giant circular machines of war burst forth from the ground, many going in different directions, but these couple begin heading straight in yours.

Eyes widening in fear, you book it in the opposite direction as T’Challa yells for his men to fall back for the tree line, your heart races a mile a minute as you force yourself to keep running through the exhaustion and slight pain in your left thigh from a heeling bite mark.

But just as the razored metal closes in behind you, a bright whispy red halts it in its place. Turning towards the source, you’re almost comforted to find Wanda at the hands of the machinery’s demise. She yells, throwing her hands back as the metal clashes across the battlefield, killing the beasts as they go.

And she was up there this whole time?

Turning to face more foes, you look over to notice as the female alien stalks across the ruined battlefield towards Wanda at an alarmingly hefty pace, dark rusted yellow eyes set and predatory as she reaches her oblivious prey. Smacking her armored fist across Wanda’s head, the Sokovian tumbles into a ditch, horned lady alien trailing after her.

Shit, you should do something.

Taking out another beast, you book it over to help Wanda, jumping into the wide trench behind the woman, you catch the end of her heated threat to Wanda, “He’ll die alone. As will you.” Venom tripping off of her every word, God why are they so angry?

“She’s not alone.” You growl, face painted with inky purple blood, claws shimmering in the sunlight as she whips around to face you. Her eyes trail over your body as she scowls in deep irritation, before handing her an unfriendly smirk, “Come on you ugly fuck.” You growl.

She lunges at you, weapon drawn as you dodge her deadly blow by the sharp thin blade. She quickly whips around and is kindly greeted by your claws that rips the dull white flesh of her lower face. Blood seeps out as she screams, face flaring a fierce anger as she powers through and thrusts her blade into your left shoulder. Fucking bitch!

You’re immediately greeted with a sharp stinging pain that rips violently into your body from the assault. A boot rudely kicks you backwards onto the hard earth as Okoye smacks her dagger across the woman’s back, distracting her from trying to end your life. Like that would work.

Blood pools hot and angry out of your opened flesh while Okoye and Natasha handle the horned bitch from behind you and Wanda. Your hands push you off the gravely earth as Wanda shares a fearful glance with you, giving her a pursed lip grin. You jump to your feet and assess the escalating situation before you; Okoye is breathing heavily on the ground as Natasha holds back the woman with her shocking stick while pinned on her back, straining to keep the opposing blade away from her throat.

“Hey!” You shout, causing the woman to lift her gaze from Natasha to you, she doesn’t even have a second to react as your clawed fist slashes a deadly blow across her face. She immediately stumbles back in shock as blood spirts wildly out of her deep cuts, her eyes going wide as saucers when you land a powerful kick into her lower torso, sending her body flying upwards only to be mauled by one of the circular razors rolling past.

Blue blood marking your already dirty face, you turn to look down at Natasha as she glances between the three of you, face dotted in blue blood just the same, “That was really gross.” Grimaces the blonde as you give the others a once over before jumping back out into the action.

Minutes fly by as you fight your way to the tree line closest to the Wakandian palace, suddenly Steve’s voice is heard in the coms, “Everyone, on my position. We have incoming.” And with that do you follow Bucky and T’Challa as they race into the woods where Steve, Natasha, Sam, Bruce, and Wanda is protectively holding Vision as they keep seated on the grassy earth.

Collecting your breath, you walk over to Bucky as everyone feels a soft hunting breeze blowing the trees around, “Something’s not right.” You mutter worriedly as he shares a nervous look with you.

“I know. Just stay close to me.”

You nod before giving him a weak reassuring smile, a moment later a strange anomaly of purple, blue, and dark grey clouds present themselves a small distance in front of you all. A tall figure of great stature and physical strength walks out from the odd whispy mass, he’s larger then anyone you’ve ever seen before, skin colored purple and golden laced armor of another world.

“Cap. That’s him.” Announces Bruce as you heart begins racing once more, oh shit oh shit oh shit. Fuck he’s really big.

Steve raises his two arm shields, “Eyes up. Stay sharp.” As he starts walking in the direction of you’re assuming is this Thanos everyone has been talking about.

Hulkbuster thunders past, but as Bruce reaches Thanos, his body turns a transparent blue and falls right through the purple alien before lodging himself in the rock of the ascending cliffside.

Steve’s next as he throws himself at Thanos, the titan uses his golden gauntlet when a sudden purply wisp of energy throws Steve into the trees. T’Challa lunges, but is swiftly stopped when Thanos’ giant hand wraps around his throat. He’s then thrown him down like a ragged doll; Sam is next, wings fold in on themselves and soon he’s down too.

Rodney right after as Thanos uses the gauntlet to crush him from within his suit, he’s promptly thrown to the side like a rock. Bullets fly violently through the air as Bucky fires shot after shot at the purple titan to no avail, he’s thrown across the ground like nothing.

Terrified yet too much full of rage to think, you race for the bastard titan as he pushes Okoye to the side, Natasha left disabled when tree roots throw themselves around her. He quickly takes notice as you jump on the roots, heading straight for him with an animistic rage flashing through your eyes.

His fist rises as he calls more roots to action, you skillful dodge their grip as you make a desperate jump for the titan below you now. He’s fast, but not fast enough to evade your clawed fist, the middle razor slashes a clean line right across his left eye as you tumble to the ground behind him, finding your footing in an instant.

Yourself now between him and the mind stone that’s currently getting destroyed by a tearful Wanda from behind you, though you’re not paying enough attention to fully realize what’s going down, you breath heavily while eyeing up the bulky man.

The pissed off titan whips around to meet your courageous glare, left eye missing, dripping with warm purple blood that trails like an ugly waterfall down his scared cheeks until it spatters to the forest floor. Face now visibly angered and very much in pain as he stares you down.

He takes a threatening step forward as you take a cautious one back, eyeing you up, he nods, “A clean hit, I’m afraid this one won’t heal for me unfortunately...nonetheless, I am impressed by your valor small one, but your bravery will be in vain.” Speaks the titan as you stare up at him with shaky breaths.

oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

A second later the power of his golden gauntlet sends you flying into the trunk of a thick tree, knocking you out on impact.

When you awaken with a jolt, your nose is wet with drying crimson that trails across your lips and chin. Nothing hurts anymore but your body feels incredibly weird, taking in a deep breath, you stand on shaky legs. Eyes scanning the area only to find a confused Thor who’s looking rather dreadful and lost.

Steve quickly runs up to him, eyes searching around for Thanos who’s nowhere to be seen, “Where’d he go?” Wonders Steve as you slowly walk over to them, “Thor....Where’d he go?” Asks Steve more urgently this time, blue eyes looking around to no avail. Thanos is gone. Just like that.

But how?

You quickly catch movement to your left, but it’s just Bucky walking over to the three of you. Heart filled with relief, you start walking over to him as he locks eyes with you, a confused expression crossing over his features as he looks over at his left arm.

You follow his puzzled gaze and watch as his arm begins to disintegrate like ash on a windy day. Bucky finds your concerned face; panic, confusion, and fear flashing through his stormy irises as he takes another desperate step to reach you, “Y/N?” Is all you hear as the rest of his body begins turning to dust right before your very eyes.

His gun falls to the ground with a thud as the rest of his body disintegrates to nothing more then ash and dust upon the grass. You freeze, it feels like your heart as just been frozen in ice and smashed with a steel sledgehammer without remorse.

You swallow, walking on trembling legs to where his ashes remain, you slowly kneel. Hand touching the area as delicately as you would hold a newborn, this isn’t real this is just a shitty dream and you’ll wake up any second with him right by your side.

It’s just a dream. But you know, it’s not.

Steve wanders to your side before kneeling down and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. Biting your bottom lip to hold the lump back that’s building in the back of your throat, you turn your head to meet him, your eyes glossed over with unshed tears.

He lowers his head in defeat as you stare bitterly back down at the ground where Bucky once was, lip quivering uncontrollably as you fight back a waterfall of hidden tears. The pain in your heart almost too much to bear. “Sam! Where are you?!” Shouts Rodney, a voice to bring you back to the world.

No, not the others too. How many did he take?

Blinking hard, a couple stray tears patter onto the brown ashes as you rise, Steve doing the same, you watch as he walks over to Vision who’s void of all color and taken of all life, a small crater marking the demise of his life force, the mind stone.

He kneels down to meet the body as Natasha runs into view, she quickly halts once her gaze falls onto Visions corpse, mouth agape in shock. Bruce, Rodney, that little raccoon, and Thor coming to from behind them as you amble closer to the distraught six, though your legs feel like they could give out at any moment.

“What is this?” Wonders Rodney as he looks from Steve to you and then over to Thor, “What the hell is happening?”

Tears stream silently down the sides of your cheeks now, they make a clean line from all the other dirt and blood that marks your skin. Breathing heavily, Natasha looks over to you, “Y/N?” She asks, voice wavering as her eyes trail over your mournfully stoic face.

He can’t be gone, not Bucky, not him.

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salchat · 3 years

Text

The Yellow Room

It was the carving that triggered the memory; a small, rounded shape, which of course wasn’t an elephant, but fit into his hand in the way that he’d imagined those ebony elephants would have fit, had he dared to pick one up. John held the wooden animal now, and its curving sides were so smoothly polished that he could make it rotate just by the movement of fingers and thumb, over and over, the cool, slippery wood running across his palm, across the calluses on his fingers and the pad of his thumb.

He could buy it. Maybe he would, when Rodney had finished haggling over the collection of might-have-beens and maybes that he’d sorted out from the mass of treasures and junk. Maybe John would buy this little, hand-sized carving so that he could touch it whenever he wanted. He’d been far too scared to pick up one of the elephants; far too sad and confused.

They’d been visiting with his Grandma, who his Dad had taught him to address as Mrs Sheppard, so he did, because he always tried to do what his Dad told him to, even when he didn’t understand why. To himself he’d called her Grandma, though, because other people had grandmas and it sounded much nicer.

Her house hadn’t been nice. It was big, real big, but John couldn’t tell what most of the rooms were for. At home there was a room for eating, for watching TV, for playing games, for sleeping. There was the room where the big piano lived that John played sometimes, sitting on his Mom’s knee, pressing the keys she told him to press. And there was a room where you were supposed to sit and be polite and talk to strange people - he didn’t like that room. But at Grandma’s house, all the rooms were like that. There was a piano, but the lid was always shut and no one ever played it, not even Mom.

Mom was different at Grandma’s. She and Dad always said weird stuff beforehand, like ‘keep her sweet’ and ‘for the boys’ future’ and there was almost always an argument on the way home, where harsh, raised voices would fill the car and then Mom would cry which made John cry, which made Dad angry. Davey would cry too, but then he cried anyway because he was a baby.

John had made up his mind to be good that day, as good as he knew how; because he was almost certain that the car-arguments were his fault. After all, the grown-ups didn’t quarrel with Grandma. They were always real polite and nice to each other, even if their smiles didn’t ring true. John was the one who was constantly being told to stand up straight, keep his hands out of his pockets, do something with his hair (what? why?) and speak only when he was spoken to, as well as speak up and not mumble. So it must be his fault.

That day, he’d decided to be so good that no one would be able to find fault and then on the way home, they’d listen to music in the car and sing along like they did if they’d been on a day trip somewhere nice.

And to begin with, it had seemed like everything was going to work out fine. Grandma, no Mrs Sheppard, had opened the big, shiny door and led them into the hallway and she’d smiled and looked at Baby Davey, sitting up on Dad’s arm and her smile had broadened.

“How big he’s getting,” she’d said. “And how like his Grandpa! What a fine little man!”

Even John had had to admit Davey looked pretty good, for a baby. He’d had on a tiny little suit and tie and he could sit up straight now, not just slump in a heap in his highchair. His hair had grown in and it was soft and blonde and his Mom had damped it down and parted it with a precise line that ran straight to one temple, the hairs either side staying exactly in place.

Grandma had tickled his rounded cheek and he’d giggled and then she’d actually leant down and kissed him.

And she’d said again, “Just like his Grandpa! This one’s definitely a Sheppard!”

There’d been a subtle change in the atmosphere just then and, looking back, John wondered whether it was that as much as her repeated use of the word Grandpa that had led to his mistake. Tension between grown-ups had been nothing new to John and he didn’t usually try to do anything about it. But Grandma had kissed Baby Davey and she’d smiled at him and so she must like that kind of thing, even though Mom and Dad said she didn’t. And Dad was wrong about what she wanted to be called too - he must be. And also, standing straight and stiff and trying so hard to be good, to be ‘a Sheppard man’, John had just wanted someone to look at him the way she’d looked at his brother, to approve of him and kiss him and say what a fine young man he was growing up to be. He’d imagined them all smiling down at him the way they smiled at Baby Davey.

So he’d ran forward and opened his arms and said, (without any mumbling, because she didn’t like that), “Grandma!” And he’d hugged her, as far up as he could reach.

Or he would have, if she hadn’t taken a step back, her smiling face retreating behind a mask of distaste. Anger would’ve been better, somehow. An angry face and angry words were honest at least. As a small child, he hadn’t even had words for her expression, but now, a grown man, standing at a market stall on an alien planet, John could easily name contempt, derision and disappointment.

He remembered his mother’s indrawn breath and his father’s harsh bark, his name used as a rebuke. “John!”

He’d stopped, his arms falling to his sides, all his vows and wishes to be good shattered. This was bad. He’d been bad. He’d looked around at his Mom’s pale face and tight mouth, his Dad’s heavily frowning brows and accusing eyes and then back at his Grandma’s, no Mrs Sheppard’s upturned chin and sneer of condemnation.

But now, still holding the carved wooden animal, John huffed a soft breath of bitter laughter. No wonder he could face down a Wraith queen. No wonder he stayed stiff and straight under the disapproval of superior officers. He’d been trained for it.

And then he’d made it even worse, because he knew he’d disappointed all of them and there’d be an argument - no, a row, a furious ferocious row in the car on the way home, and it would all be his fault because he hadn’t been good, because he wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t good enough to be a Sheppard. His chest had tightened and jerked, his throat had closed up so much that it hurt and his face had begun to crumple, no matter how hard he’d tried to keep it straight.

And now, all these long years later, he wondered if the jerk of his father’s head had been as much a thing of mercy as the curt dismissal that he’d thought it to be at the time. Because Sheppard men didn’t cry. That was a rule he’d learned by heart, even at that age. So he’d walked away. He’d walked, not run and he’d opened the door to the entrance porch and gone through it and shut it behind him, hearing three pairs of feet slowly retreating from the shiny wooden entrance floor into one of the many rooms where people sat and were polite to each other. He’d stay here, because he couldn’t be polite. He’d tried and he’d failed.

“You have got to be kidding me! Thirty? For this heap of junk?”

“That is quality merchandise, sir! It is worth fifty easily!”

Rodney should leave the bargaining to Teyla. She’d get him a good deal. But still, if Rodney had a good rant at the stallholder now, maybe he’d get it out of his system for a few days.

A gust of cold wind made the awning above the stall snap. There was rain in the air.

It had been raining that day, the day of the visit; raining and cold, and John, in the square space between outer and inner door, his only company an umbrella stand and its contents, had begun to shiver. The doors rattled in their frames and every time the inner door rattled he’d jumped because he’d thought someone was coming to get him and then the yelling’d start.

But he was cold and they’d gone into one of the big rooms and there were plenty of other places in the house where an unwanted boy could sit and wait - places that might be a bit warmer. So, John had turned the big round handle and eased the door open, slowly, slowly, wincing at the creak of the hinge and then wincing even more as he closed it behind him and the handle turned back into place with a click.

No one had come out, though, so he’d stepped forward, his best, shiniest shoes clicking on the hardwood floor. To his right was the room with the piano, but he wouldn’t go in there because then he’d want his Mom to come and sit him on her knee and play the piano around him and that was almost like having a hug, so he wouldn’t think about that. Maybe he’d only get hugs if he and his Mom were alone together now. In fact, maybe that was another rule. Maybe it was like the crying thing - you could do it as a baby, but once you got to John’s age, that was it, no more hugs.

His eyes had blurred. He’d sniffed, wiped the sleeve of his scratchy jacket across his face, swallowed hard and walked on. Past the dining room, where he had to slowly and carefully eat everything on his plate, even if it was liver and really, really green, bitter vegetables. Past the other sitting room, where you sat after dinner, as if the chairs in the other room could only take so much sitting in one day. He could go in there, but it wasn’t after dinner, so that was another rule he’d be breaking.

And there was another door. He didn't know what was behind it. Could it be a games room? Or might there be a TV? He turned the handle and pushed it open and the door brushed softly over a thick, golden carpet. The room was yellow. All golden and yellow, but not the gold and yellow of flowers or sunshine or new, bright things, but the old, faded gold of another place where you had to be polite and respectful. The heavy hangings at the window were thick, shiny fabric with big tassels holding them back, and even the walls were goldy-yellow with a repeating pattern of curly flower-things that looked like they’d be velvety if you dared to touch them. It was a rich, old, be-on-your-best-behaviour room. John went in anyway, because it was smaller than the other rooms and not so forbidding, although it seemed like this room probably didn’t want him here either.

He closed the door softly behind himself and trod slowly and carefully across the carpet. Maybe he should’ve taken his shoes off. They didn’t usually do that at Grandma’s house, because they were in their best things and he supposed it’d look pretty weird going around in just socks when the rest of you was all fine and neat. And their best shoes only ever went from the car straight into the house anyway. Nevertheless, he picked up one foot and then the other and inspected their soles. But, standing on one leg, he wobbled and flung out a hand for balance. His fingertips brushed over something hard and there was a rattle of a fragile thing about to fall. John’s heart pounded hard and his ears fizzed in terror. If he broke something, if he knocked over a precious antique and actually broke it - it was so awful a thought that he couldn’t even imagine the consequences. It wouldn’t just be yelling. He’d probably be sent away somewhere for bad children that couldn’t behave.

But nothing was broken. It was an elephant, in fact a row of elephants on a small, round side table. It hadn’t even fallen. All was as it should be, the three elephants arranged in order of decreasing size, traversing the tabletop in organised, trunk-to-tail dignity.

John was jerked out of his memory by a jostle to his shoulder and an arm reaching in front of him to sort through a stack of fabric. He needed to focus. Just because Ronon and Teyla were circling the stall, infiltrating the crowd, didn’t mean he could afford to daydream.

But the carved alien animal was warm and heavy in John’s hand, pulling him back into his past. Were those long-ago elephants as heavy for their size? They had probably been made from ebony, or some other endangered hardwood. And their tiny white tusks had certainly been real ivory, stolen from some poor elephants killed on the distant African savannah.

He’d wanted to touch them. He’d wanted to so badly, to see if holding their rounded wooden bodies in his hands would go any way toward taking away the ache in his chest, the emptiness in his arms and heart. He’d wanted to pick up the big Daddy elephant and turn it toward the Mommy and put the baby elephant in between them, guarded by both of their long, dangling trunks. And then he could’ve made them roam over the golden carpet like real elephants across the sandy grassland, and the two big ones would’ve made sure the baby was safe and helped him up if he fell, curling their trunks around his body and setting him back on his feet.

But even though he’d wanted to, he hadn’t touched them. John had kept his arms by his sides, his hands empty, dangling quietly, not in his pockets, not doing anything that anyone could say was bad or wrong. He just stood on the carpet, not even sitting down on the low, padded chair that was the same colour as the walls and the curtains, not even moving closer to the little round table that was the elephants’ domain. He just stood, wondering if he was like the elephants - just someone small and not real. He wasn’t a real Sheppard. He couldn’t be, because he wanted to be hugged and sometimes he needed to cry, and Sheppard men didn’t do either of those things.

“Are you buying that?”

He didn’t remember how the day had ended. He didn’t remember if anyone came to find him or if he’d made his way back through the hallway and waited until they went home. He certainly didn’t remember the inevitable row in the car.

“Sheppard, are you buying that? Hey, you! You can have forty if you throw in this elephant thing!”

John shivered. There was water running down his neck and the awning was snapping and flapping in sharp gusts of wind. Rodney was handing over some trading tokens, his wet hair plastered to his head, his cheeks tinged pink with cold. He nodded to the trader and began packing a slew of items into a wooden crate.

“D’you want to put that in here or are you still bonding?”

“Huh?”

“You��ve been playing with it for ages. Who is it? Dumbo? Nelly?”

“It’s not an elephant.”

“As good as.” Rodney paused in his packing. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“John?” Rodney, hand on hip, eyes narrowed, communicating through body language and willpower alone. They’d had an agreement about this - honesty, about feelings as well as physical stuff. “I repeat, are you okay?”

“Uh, well. This thing reminded me of something.”

“Oh. Something good or something bad? We don’t have to take it if it’s something bad! I can renegotiate. Hey, you!”

The stallholder kept his back deliberately turned.

“No, it’s okay, Rodney.” John tucked the elephant-thing in a pouch in his vest. “It’s kind of not good. But I think… maybe I can make it better?”

“Oh. Right. So, I can expect the full story when we get home?”

“Yeah. The full story.”

Rodney nodded in satisfaction. “Right, where’s the muscle when you need him. Ronon? I bet he’s found a bar to prop up. Ronon!”

John smiled and picked up the crate. And as they made their way back to the Gate, the four of them together, he almost didn’t mind the thought of pouring out his childhood memory to Rodney. He almost didn’t want to run away and hide and stamp everything down until he could reappear, blank-faced and stoic. Because with Rodney, there were hugs every day. With Rodney, you could cry if you needed to. And with Ronon and with Teyla. And maybe he didn’t make a habit of hugging his Marines and crying on their shoulders, but if they came to him with issues that needed that kind of thing he didn’t tell them to man up or expect them to stamp it all down, to bury their feelings.

He was learning. Slowly, gradually, he was learning that this Sheppard man could hug and he could cry and he could do all those things that he’d been taught were so wrong.

And when he got home, back to Atlantis, back to the rooms he shared with Rodney, he’d set the elephant-thing on the nightstand; the thing which wasn’t an elephant. It would glow golden-brown when he turned on the bedside light and he’d pick it up whenever he wanted and hold it in his hands until it grew warm from his touch - just like he’d grown warm from the touch of his friends.

He’d tell Rodney his story about the yellow room and the elephants, and then he’d be held, wrapped in warmth, and if he needed to he could cry all those tears that he’d kept inside himself when he was just a boy, just a little boy who wanted to be loved.

#stargate atlantis fanfic #mcshep #john sheppard #rodney mckay #angst #sentimental

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echotrinityme · 3 years

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Foolish Bounus Chapter 12: Meeting the Parents

Henry and Rupert headed over to Henry's dads place cause they wanted to meet Rupert, they were nervous for several reasons. For one, they need to tell them about the arrangement they had earlier, Second; Rupert broke Henry's heart, and lastly, he let Henry get kidnapped by the Toppat clan.

They were in a car, Rupert's to be exact. He was driving and Henry was next to him, quietly scrolling through his phone. They have gotten permission from The General for a day off to visit Henry's dads, and

Rupert wanted to not meet Henry's parents cause he was afraid of their reactions of those things but Henry insisted it was fine, he did told him about his parents being former leaders of the Toppat clan and Rupert had more reasons on not going to meet his dads.

"I'm not so sure about this." said Rupert, nervously while driving.

"It's gonna be fine, Rupert." reassured Henry."My dads may be overprotecting at times but they want to meet you."

"Do they know about me being a former police officer?"

"Yes."

"Do they know about your previous relationship?"

"I...no."

Rupert stared at Henry for a moment and then back at the road, Henry stared back at him in confusion.

"Why doesn't your parents know about the guy you dated before?" asked Rupert, incredulously.

"I guess I felt ashamed cause I was in an abusive relationship." replied Henry, bowing his head in sadness. "I didn't want them to know about my troubles."

"They are your parents, Henry." comforted Rupert. "They would had help you."

"Yeah, but I didn't wanted them to get involved with my mess."

Henry was starting to tremble a bit and his eyes were beginning to brimmed with tears until he felt a hand on his shoulder, he looked to see Rupert comforting him with his hand while the other was on the wheel.

"Hey, it's okay. I know you felt helpless during that time and I made you even feel more helpless when I used you." said Rupert, gently. "But I learned from my mistakes and Spike didn't."

"Yeah I know." said Henry. "How am I going to tell them about Spike and how we got together but was just a physical relationship before?"

"I...was trying to think of way to tell them but got nothin'"

"We'll think of something."

The rest of the drive was silent, sans the occasional talk here and there. They finally arrived at the house where Henry's dads lived, Rupert parked in the drive way and they both got out and head to the front door.

Henry ring the door bell and they both waited for a bit until the door opened to reveal a man wearing a rainbow of colors. He was wearing a pink suit, a pink top hat, has dirty blonde hair, and has a tooth gap.

"Henry! How's our favorite son." exclaimed the man, excitedly.

Henry blushed and Rupert smirked at him, Henry playfully hit his shoulder. The man saw Rupert and was surprised, he let them in. They all went into the living room and another man came into the living room.

He was wearing an all black suit, with a black top hat, he also had a tooth gap, and had a goatee. His hair was black and he had it in a ponytail, he smiled at the man and Henry but stopped when he saw Rupert. Rupert on the other hand, was not smiling to the two men.

"Hi dads." spoke Henry. He was sensing the tension and decided to break it. "And here's my boyfriend, Rupert Price."

"The son of Rodney Price, right?" asked the black clad man, suspiciously.

Rupert blinked at the man and so did Henry, "You knew my dad?" questioned Rupert.

"My name is Terrence Suave and I used to be the former leader of the Toppat clan." said Terrence, introducing himself.

"And my name is Randy Radman." added Randy, happily. "I'm Terrence's husband."

"Were you a former leader too?" asked Rupert, pointing to Randy.

"Yes." replied Randy.

Rupert turned to Terrence, "How do you know my dad's name, exactly?" he asked him.

Terrence sighed and he glanced around the room to see everyone staring at him patiently, Randy saw the look and he knows the story he's about to tell to Rupert and Henry.

"I used to be involved with Rodney." said Terrence.

Rupert cringed in shock and Henry gasped in surprise, that was not the answer they were expecting. Rupert was digesting the answer Terrence gave them and he was confused, his dad used to be a cop like him but retired shortly after his mom left him and his dad.

His dad dealt with the Toppat Clan before and will always tried to capture them but failed everytime, Rupert remembered some of the memories he had with his dad telling him about the Toppat clan but didn't tell him about certain members of the clan.

"How?" questioned Rupert, lowly. He started to trembled a bit and Henry hugged him to comfort him.

"It started when I was on a heist and he caught me and a few other people." explained Terrence, bowing his head and closing his eyes. "I was reckless and since it was my fault, I decided to seduce him while letting the others to escape."

"I seduced him by kissing him and trying to grabbed his handcuffs, he tried to resist but failed." he continued. "It was supposed to be a one time thing but it wasn't."

While Terrence was telling his story, Rupert was still digesting the fact that his father was involved with criminal. Not just any criminal but a Toppat leader, he wonders how his dad kept his job and marriage for leading a double-life. Is that why his mom left them? Rupert greatly resented his dad because of it.

"Did you loved him or used him?" questioned Rupert, quietly. He was still trembling and Henry hugged him tightly.

Terrence stared at Rupert for a moment, there was a heavy silence after that. Randy went over to him and hugged him, Henry stared at his dad in morbid curiosity. He never heard his dad tell that story before, well everyone has their secrets right?

"To answer your question, Rupert." said Terrence, exhaling a sharp breath. "It was purely physical but there were maybe hints of love. I'm not sure though..."

There was another heavy silence, Rupert was thinking about the last few events that happened between him and Henry. He wonders did his dad truly loved his mom or actually had feelings for her, he thought his parents had the perfect marriage but he guess not. Rupert felt really awful after that story now, he treated Henry the same way his dad treated Terrence.

Like father, like son he supposed.

"Hey, all this talk is getting me depressed." said Randy, smiling even though it didn't reached his eyes.

"Right, sorry about that." said Terrence. "Henry, why don't you fill us on what have you been doing lately."

Henry nodded slowly and glanced at Rupert who's face was red, he quickly made an excuse and took Rupert to another room. He took him to his old bedroom and shut the door, he sat Rupert on the bed.

"Hey, are you okay?" asked Henry, gently.

"No, I'm not okay." replied Rupert, angrily. "I just found out my dad fracked a Toppat clan member and he kept it a secret!"

"Not only that." he continued "He used your dad and vice versa, no wonder my mom left us."

Henry was speechless, he never knew that. He wanted to ask about Rupert's childhood and parents for some time now but didn't want to pry cause of privacy. Now he knows about Rupert's dad and his mom, no wonder he was angry.

"Did my dad's story reminded you about us." questioned Henry, gingerly.

"Yes." replied Rupert, still angry.

"Unlike our dads, we worked through our problems."

"Yeah but.."

"I know you're sorry about what happened between us and I forgive you that. But remember I had a part in that too."

"I guess yer right."

Henry kissed Rupert on the cheek and Rupert blushed, they nuzzled and said their I love yous and went out the room.

"I guess we'll have to tell your dads about our story right?"

"Yes."

They descended the stairs and saw Terrence and Randy waiting for them patiently on the sofa, they glanced up and saw the boys. They noticed Rupert's face was red and Henry was smiling faintly.

"Is there something wrong, boys?" asked Terrence, in concern.

"We have something to tell you but promise me you won't kill Rupert." replied Henry.

"Ok." said Terrence and Randy, in unison. They were confused on why their son asked them that.

Henry and Rupert begin to tell their story, they told them everything including about Spike; Calvin sleeping with Henry, Rupert letting Henry get captured, etc. Just like with the others in the base, Rupert was given a hostile glare and Terrence looked like he wanted to murder him.

He would have if it weren't for Randy holding him back, Randy led Terrence to the kitchen and left Rupert and Henry alone. Rupert was shaking from Terrence's outburst and Henry was hugging him. A few minutes later, Terrence and Randy came back but Terrence was still glaring at Rupert.

Randy did the rest of talking and he threaten Rupert if he breaks Henry's heart again, they will bury him 6 feet under. Rupert nodded vigorously and he gave a thumbs up, Randy smiled and went to sit back on the sofa.

Terrence did the same but still kept a glare on Rupert, the rest of the visit went pretty well and Rupert thinks Terrence will never get along with him. When it was time for Henry and Rupert to leave, they all said their goodbyes and went to the car.

After a moment, when Rupert was driving back to the base, he turned to Henry who looked at him. "Next time, maybe warn me next time about your dads being scary." he said, terrified.

Henry laughed and nodded and they went back to the base, feeling better about themselves.

This is for @dokkipokki, cause they asked what would happened when Henry’s dads finding out about Rupert used him for sexual relations before they got together.

#Henry Stickmin #henry stickmim collection #henry stickmin x rupert price #stickprice #rupert price #thsc #thsc henry stickmin #thsc rupert price #terrence suave #randy radman #thsc terrence suave #thsc randy radman

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

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Bad Boys

Warnings: noncon/dubcon (rough sex, oral), deception, stalking, obsession.

This is dark!(cop) Steve and Bucky and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After a break-in, the reader struggles with her trauma and paranoia but those meant to keep her safe might just be dangerous.

Note: Shout-out to @buckybarnesplumwhore who helped come up with this idea!! It was fun. We needed so cop Steve and Bucky and I needed a breather from Summertime Sadness. Hope you guys enjoy this wild ride. Love you guys!

Leave some feedback, like and reblog if you can <3

You watched the men in their dark uniforms. One examined the contents of your book shelf as the other walked around the long sofa. You still felt as if you couldn’t breathe, still felt the plastic digging into your wrists, the blindfold a shroud over your eyes. The world was a haze in your fractured mind.

If you closed your eyes, you were still on the floor. Hands bound, ankles too. The black cloth kept you from seeing the strangers on the other side of it. Their footsteps ominous as they trode across the carpet to the hardwood. You heard them moving things, heard them touching your stuff, exploring your small apartment.

You took a shaky breath and turned away from the officers as they searched the living room. They’d shown up shortly after you were found by the landlord. After the intruders left and you squirmed your way to the wall and kicked for over an hour. The policed had the cut ties in a plastic bag, the blindfold too.

“Did they say anything?” The blond officer asked from behind you.

“Only shushed me,” You said quietly. “Pushed me around… but nothing else.”

“Anything missing?” The dark-haired cop intoned.

“Nothing I can see off-hand,” You turned back and crossed your arms. “I heard the opening the cupboards but… obviously I couldn’t see anything.”

The blond nodded and looked to the other. “Any valuables you have hidden?”

“There’s an envelope in my dresser. A jewelry box on top. They're still there. Other than the TV and maybe the laptop, I don’t know what else they would take.” You answered.

“And they didn’t do anything else to you besides tying you up.” The brunette asked. You stared at him a moment. He was familiar. The other too.

“No. No…” You shuddered. “I don’t know…”

“No other break-ins reported,” He added. “Neighbours didn’t see anything odd.”

“So if they didn’t take anything?” You wondered.

“Maybe thought they’d find more. Maybe chickened out of what they had planned.” The blond shrugged. “We haven’t found anything out of place.”

“What they had planned?” You repeated.

“Well…” The brown-haired cop took a deep breath. “They tied you up… Could’ve done anything.”

“You know how many there were?” The other asked quickly.

“No, but had to be more than one. Definitely.” You said.

“Two, three, more?” The blond prodded.

“I don’t know.” You touched your cheek as you felt ready to sob. “It was just so--so--”

“It’s okay,” He said. “Unfortunately, all we can do is file the report and turn in the restraints at the station. Can’t promise much result.”

“Maybe get your locks changed. A deadbolt. Use the chain,” The other added.

“Right,” You nodded meekly.

“Hey,” The other reached into his pocket. “We know it’s not much. That’s just the way these things go. Unfortunately.” He flicked a card out and held it towards you. “You call the precinct, ask for Rogers or Barnes.” You hesistantly took it from him. “My extension’s on there too.”

“Thanks,” You sighed. “Rogers…?”

“Yeah,” He raised a brow.

“Have we…” You tried to place the name to the face. “I think I know you.”

“Oh?” He shook his head.

“Couple weeks ago. Down at Central Youth Club? Kid named Rodney?” You asked.

“Sticky fingers,” The brunette snickered. “I remember you now.”

“Heh, what are the chances,” Rogers said. “How’s the kid anyway?”

“I think you scared him straight,” You replied. “He’s a work in progress though.”

“So you work at the youth centre?” Barnes asked. “Anyone there that might have something to do with all this?”

“No, not that I can think of.” You wrung your hands. “The kids there, they aren’t bad, just lost.”

“Co workers?” Rogers asked.

“No,” You scoffed. “No, never.”

“Mmm,” Barnes grumbled. “Well, we might look into it just to be safe.”

“You never know. Outside of that, there’s not much else for us to go on.” Rogers hooked his thumb in his belt. “We’ll let you know if we find any leads.”

“Sure,” You followed them to the door. “Thanks again.”

“You just take care of yourself,” Rogers turned back as Barnes opened the door. “Never hurts to keep an eye out over your shoulder.”

“Alright,” You took the door handle as they continued into the hall.

“You have a good night,” Rogers said and Barnes nodded in shared sentiment. “And don’t hesitate to call.”

“Sure,” You waved the cars between your fingers. “I will.”

You watched them go and the pit settled in your stomach. You slowly shut the door and turned the lock before you slid the chain into place. They must’ve picked it as there was no damage to the door. You shivered and pressed your back to the door. You wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon.

⚫

“What’s she up to?” Bucky asked as he came in the door; a paper bag in one hand and a tray of cups in the other.

“As much as usual,” Steve said as he leaned back in the chair and stretched his arms.

A laptop sat on the coffee table, open and bright as the lamps glowed yellow against the night blackening outside the windows. The house seemed empty these days, since Sharon had filed for the divorce. That was over a year ago.

Irreconcilable differences. Bullshit. It was his job she hated. He didn’t have enough time for her, she claimed. He brought his work home too often. Well, what was she complaining about? He’d paid the mortgage and filled her closet with overpriced labels. He’d seen it coming but it didn’t make it any easier.

“That’s why I don’t bother with ‘em,” That was Bucky’s supportive response. No, Steve knew Bucky bothered with women, just not for very long.

Bucky dropped the bag and tray on the table beside the computer. “Hmmm,” He grumbled as he looked at the screen. She sat against the headboard, a book in her hands. She didn’t read much before her head shot up and she was searching the empty room. She never sat still for very long. She was as frightened as the night of the invasion. That was good.

Steve dug in the bag and took out a burger. His leg swayed lazily back and forth as he unwrapped it. “Think we should check in on her tomorrow?”

“What do you mean?” Bucky sat up and took a burger of his own.

“Pop by the apartment, make up some bullshit about another break-in, something or the other,” Steve said. “Fix the camera in the kitchen.”

Bucky shrugged. “Nothing going on in the kitchen. Better we let her stew. She’s antsy. Close.”

“Wait…” Steve swallowed as his eyes zeroed in on the screen. “What is that?”

They watched as she sat back. Her book was closed on the night table as she held up the bright pink shape. It was the same vibe Bucky found the night they’d tied her up in the corner. She stared at it then slipped down slowly on the pillow. Both men leaned forward.

She pulled up her tee shirt and slipped her hand past the elastic of her panties. Bucky hit a button and the frame zoomed in. Steve let out a long breath as she let out a small gasp. They could see her moving the toy beneath the cotton, the mic in her lamp caught every wisp of air that slipped from her lips.

Soon she was panting and moaning. Her legs were bent and toes pointed as she coaxed herself towards release. She muffled her orgasm as she came, one leg shot out and her back arched. She twitched and caught her breath. She pulled the toy out and let it fall to the mattress.

“Well…” Steve smirked.

“Mmhmm,” Bucky shifted on the couch. “See… we wait. It’ll all fall into place.”

“Fuck,” Steve took another bite and swallowed before he continued. “I don’t know how long I can wait.”

“Trust me,” Bucky took a fry from the bag and popped it into his mouth. “It’ll be worth it.”

⚫

Adam was one of several counselours at the youth centre. After the attack, he hadq offered you a shoulder and an ear. You took it, briefly, but found yourself unable to put into words the fear and dread which had come to enshrine your life.

Since that fateful day, he had driven you home every night. You were thankful, the crowds of the New York streets and the trains sent you into a spin. That night, you watched the lights streak through the window as the engine hummed. The car rides had grown comforting. At home, you were always alone; always vulnerable.

Often, you were silent. At work, you could force yourself to be like the old you for the kids. You could smile at them and ask about their problems. Show them how to fold an origami star or lead the daily tai chi session. It was routine, it was safe, it was assuring.

In your apartment, there was no normal. Couldn’t be. Those men could return, they could easily break your lock, even the new thick deadbolt, and could do exactly as they had done before. Even worse. And they did that in your dreams during those short spurts you managed in the all-consuming dark.

The glare of street lights cleared in your vision and you stared up at your building. You picked at the strap of your bag. You let out a shuddery breath and Adam shifted in his chair.

“You okay?” He asked,

“Yeah, I just…”

You looked through the windshield and your vision drew to a pinpoint. The man in the hoodie crossing the street, another loitering by the post, a third just opposite you with a cigarette between his lips. Was it them? Were they watching you right now? Would they strike again?

“You want me to…” He hesitated. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through but I can hang around for a bit. We can talk or not.”

You looked over at him and sighed. You rubbed your cheek and thought. It might help to have company, even if just for an hour. He watched you but not in a way that made you uncomfortable; unpresuming and cool. He had a way of measuring his concern. You never felt coddled with him but always heard.

“Coffee?” You offered. “Tea?”

“Sure,” The deep lines of his forehead receded as he smiled. “Coffee sounds great.”

⚫

Your coffee machine let out a final, grating snarl. Adam sat along the counter that divided your kitchen from the rest of your apartment. He leaned on his elbows as he watched you fill two mugs and approach the other side. You slid on over to him, between the cream and sugar. He added a bit of each and stirred slowly. You took some cream and watched the dark coffee pale.

“So…” He began. “You thought about some time off at all?”

“Time off?” You repeated.

“A couple of days? You know you can’t go on like this.” He said. “Look I didn’t come here to play counselor but… those kids need you but not at your own expense.”

“I… can’t.” You inhaled the scent of your coffee but your stomach soured at the thought of it. “I can’t be here all the time. Can’t be alone all the time.”

“You got family? Parents? You should go see ‘em.”

“They don’t… know,” You admitted. “I couldn’t-- My mom warned me when I moved here. She was right. It’s not safe.”

“So? You think she’d be happy to know she’s right? Or do you think she’d be mother to her daughter?” He challenged.

You shrugged. “I’m embarrassed. I don’t want to talk about it all the time. Don’t wanna think about it all the time.”

He nodded. “You do tai chi with the kids. Does it help?”

“The kids help. They have bigger problems and they’re so much younger and they’re so much braver.”

“Bravery is not a contest,” He pushed his coffee away. “You’re right, they have their own problems and you can’t shoulder them with your own. You should at least try to meditate on your own. Here. Reclaim this space for you. Don’t let them take it from you.”

“I can’t… breathe in here. It’s like walking into a furnace. I feel like I’m suffocating, like the flames are licking up at me. One wrong step and I’m nothing more than fodder.” You rubbed your forehead.

“You thought of moving?” He asked.

You laughed darkly. “Funny how that’s even more frightening. This place has become purgatory and yet, the outside, a world full of strangers, that is hell. Demons waiting with sinister thoughts; conspiring against me.”

“So… how do you get through the nights? You drinking?” He wondered.

“I bought a case of beer but couldn’t touch it. My neighbour offered me a puff but… not worth my job,” You said. “I just kind of am.”

“What about friends? It would be good to have someone with you,” He stood and slowly rounded the counter.

“Busy. As always. Maybe they just don’t want to deal with the damaged victim,” You moped.

“So, is that it? You couldn’t save yourself so you save others from you?” He asked. “There’s nothing wrong with you. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I don’t know that.” You breathed. “I think about that day, I should’ve known. I heard them, I swear, when I unlocked the door but I just ignored that stabbing in my chest. Door was locked, how could anyone be inside? But then… they were waiting for me and… so stupid.”

“No,” He touched your arm shyly. “No, you weren’t because how can anyone expect humans to be so needlessly cruel?”

“Anyone with a brain,” You frowned. “I should’ve listened to my mom.”

“You need to let go. You have to realize that you can’t change the past but you can change the present. You don’t have to be helpless.” He insisted.

“Adam,” You looked up at him. You searched his pale blue eyes and slowly placed your hand over his. You drew it away from your arm and clung to his hand. He watched you, patiently, intently. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“Okay,” He said softly. “Okay.”

“No, you--” You shook your head and huffed. You stood on your toes and pressed your lips to his. You pulled away slowly and stared at him. “So?”

He blinked and his fingers fluttered across his lips. “So,” He uttered. “You don’t have to be alone.”

⚫

“Who the fuck is this guy?” Bucky asked, his foot up on the coffee table as he slumped back on the sofa.

Steve hung his heavy jacket up in the closet before he made his way into the living room. “What?” He asked as he checked his watch.

“She’s got some dude with her,” He said darkly.

Steve could hear her voice but couldn’t discern her words through the small speaker. “Turn it up.”

“Don’t think I need to,” Bucky dropped his feet to the floor and looked closer. He switched cameras as he watched her pull the tall blonde man through her living room.

“I know him,” Steve sat beside his partner. “Works with her.”

He went silent and his jaw ticked as the pair fell onto the couch, entwined together in a fervour. His hand balled into a fist as a wave of anger swept through him. Seeing her with another man was stunningly infuriating. She was his; theirs. They’d been watching her for almost a month. She had become a staple of their lives.

“Well, can’t say what it’ll do for their working relationship,” Bucky scoffed.

Steve nodded and pushed his tongue along the inside of his lip. He was livid. He felt worse than he had a week ago when he saw that photo of Sharon and the big lunk she had dropped him for. Irreconcilable differences, indeed. Well, he didn’t need her anymore, he had a new girl. One that wouldn’t be so unruly. He’d make sure of that.

“Hey,” Bucky elbowed him. “It’s good. Means she close. She’s gonna fuck him and then what? One night stands don’t encourage a healthy professional environment and you know how these things go. One night isn’t gonna fix what we did. Not gonna fix her.”

Steve let out a long breath from his nostrils. He watched them undress each other frantically. His blood boiled. Bucky chuckled in amusement as he watched the screen closer. Steve began to wring his hands, he wanted to barge in and pummel this guy. They had put in all this work and he was reaping the benefits.

“I can’t watch this,” He snarled.

“Come on,” Bucky turned to him. “You telling me this isn’t getting you hot.”

Steve glanced at the screen again. She was straddling him, she rode him slowly as her moans droned in the speakers. He couldn’t deny that his body was responding. That he was getting hard thinking of himself beneath her like that.

“It’s not supposed to be him,” Steve rasped.

“No, it’s not,” Bucky smirked. “But trust me, we can use this.”

Steve shook his head, confused. He glanced between Bucky and the laptop.

“Look, go, calm down, and I’ll explain when you’ve… cooled off.” Bucky clapped his shoulder. “Alright?”

“Fine,” Steve pushed himself to his feet, quick to turn away as his erection bulged inside his navy pants.

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked back. Bucky’s eyes were glued to the stream and the gentle mewls mingled with a deeper voice. Steve cracked his neck and headed upstairs. He didn’t miss the subtle zip that followed his departure.

Before, before her, the house was unbearably empty. He just came home, watched some old western, and fell asleep before heading back out to the streets. At least when Sharon had still been there, he could talk to her, even if it was about nothing. He could at least pretend like his life was complete. Like he had meaning.

He thought it would turn around eventually. That Sharon would be expecting by now and he’d be working to be a father. Well, those plans had gone to shit. So that meant this time, he had to plan better.

He went to the bathroom but didn’t bother to close the door. Bucky would be distracted for a while. He undressed in a stupor. His mind was a flurry of anger and impatience. He hung his belt on the door handle and kicked his shoes towards the hall. He let his clothes pile on the tile and stared at himself in the mirror. He pushed his shoulders back and took a deep breath.

He turned the faucet and stepped into the glass shower. It was recently renovated. He’d replaced the frosted barrier with an entirely transparent booth. He wanted to be able to watch her whenever he wanted. When they had her at last, she’d never escape his sight. Never.

He planted his hands against the wall below the shower head. He leaned on them heavily and let the hot water wash over his muscles. He closed his eyes and thought of that day. They were careful and perfect. They changed out of their uniforms, pulled on the masks and gloves just outside her apartment. They had been certain to hide in the stairwell until none were around. Bucky picked the lock in seconds.

Inside, they began their work. They placed every camera and tested them. The mics too. Then they waited. Steve was just as hard then when he heard her enter. He held his breath as he listened to her moving around. As she entered the bedroom, he slipped out from behind the door and seized her. Her struggles had her ass rubbing against his crotch.

It ached just the same as he thought about it. His right hand slipped and his fingers wrapped around his cock. He thought about her tied up and blindfolded on the floor. They searched further. No weapons but some sex toys and other naughty secrets. Steve still had the pair of lilac coloured panties he’d stuffed in his pocket. He’d made sure to keep them in his jacket when they returned in their uniforms.

He stroked faster and faster as he thought of the fear in her eyes. The way she’d shied away from him and Bucky. Then she softened as they asked her questions, offered her help. She was easy. Too easy. He thought of the blond man from her work and growled. Thought of her bouncing atop him. His body shook and he cried out as he came.

He couldn’t wait much longer.

⚫

You were almost done for the day. Your small office was really a closet attached to the rec room. You sent off an email then finished tidying up the game pieces left out by the kids. When you were done, you lingered behind the door and peeked out. Things had been awkward since that night. Adam hadn’t driven you since. You avoided him and your own shame. A moment of weakness.

The coast was clear. You crept out and waved goodbye to the receptionist behind the window. She smiled and trilled her own farewell. You were quick to escape as you feared she would alert the man you were avoiding.

You hugged your bag as you sat on the subway. Your phone vibrated in your hand and the screen lit up with a new email. The sender was unfamiliar; no title, either. You opened it and your nerves began to flurry. They never quite stopped but they pinged around wildly as the thumbnail loaded for a video.

You muted your phone before you hit play. You quickly hid your screen as the footage began. It was you on your couch, on top of Adam. What the fuck? You stopped the video and read the single subtitle beneath; I know what you did.

You felt as if you would vomit. You closed the tab and locked your phone. Your stop was coming up. You jittered at the door until they opened and raced through the station. You didn’t stop, out of breath by the time you reached your apartment on the fifth floor.

You barely got your key in the slot to unlock it. You slammed the door behind you and threw your bag against the wall. You began to search for any sign, any flashing light, any glare of a lense. You tore books off the shelf, moved your TV from its stand, pulled every picture off the wall. You lost yourself in a mania.

You only stopped when a knock sounded at the door. Your heart was in your throat. You grabbed the broom from the closet and went to the door. You peered through the peephole. You flinched, confused. It was the same officers as before. You carefully opened the door and set aside the broom.

“Hello?” You greeted with a frown.

“Hey, again,” Rogers stood with hands on his hips. “Noise complaint.”

“Noise…” You realized then how the crashing and stomping must have seemed. “Sorry I was just…”

“What’s going on?” Barnes glanced past you at the mess in your living room. “You okay?”

“Fine.” You assured them weakly. “Just lost...something.”

They looked at each other before they turned back to you. “You sure?” Rogers asked. “It okay if we come in and just look around?”

“Uh, yeah,” You stepped back and pressed yourself to the open door. They entered and you slouched in shame as you reluctantly followed them.

“Whatever you lost must be really important,” Barnes neared the television still on the floor.

“I just... “

“You think maybe it was taken?” Rogers spun to look at you. “Maybe you didn’t notice.”

You nodded and hung your head. “Yeah, maybe. Look, I’m sorry.” You walked along the back of the couch. “I’ll keep it down. I didn’t mean to disturb anyone.”

They were silent as they continued to look around. They didn’t believe you. Well, you were a poor liar.

“I… Someone’s watching me.” You almost whispered.

“What was that?” Barnes footsteps were deliberate as he neared the other side of the couch.

“Someone’s…” You lifted your head and cleared your throat. “Someone’s watching me since… since the attack.”

“Watching you? What do you mean?” Barnes asked.

“There’s… a camera, somewhere. That’s what I was looking for and…” You gulped. “I sound crazy.”

“No, no,” Rogers stood at the other corner of the couch. “How do you know someone’s watching?”

“I just… know it,” You cowered. “I… can’t tell you how I know.”

“Well, you’re going to have to if we’re gonna do anything about it.” Rogers said.

You chewed your lip and shook your head. “Nevermind. I’m just… crazy.”

“If you have proof of this, you need to show us.” Barnes crossed his arms.

“If you have anything that can support these claims and your withholding it, you could be charged with obstruction.” Rogers warned.

“Your case is still open,” Barnes added. “Anything you can give us will help it from being shelved.”

“I… no, it could ruin my career.” You shied away. “If you submit it then… I could be fired.”

“Well…” Rogers said and shared a look with his partner. “Say you show us and we don’t report it. An unofficial lead. Just between us.”

“Show you…” You quivered. “I…”

“I’m sorry, Miss, but if you have nothing to back up these claims, we can’t bother following up,” Barnes said. “And you could be charged on a false report.”

“What if I just promise to keep it down?” You asked.

“That’s not how this works.” Barnes shook his head. “Look, we responded to a call here. We need something.”

You were silent for a moment. “Then I can take a fine for the complaint.”

“If someone is watching you, don’t you think it better to have us looking out for you?” Rogers insisted. “Especially after the attack.”

You blanched at the word. Attack.

“They could strike again,” Barnes stated.

You sighed and nodded. You passed Rogers and grabbed your bag from beside the door. You opened your phone and searched for the email. Your eyes stung as you held it up. His eyes rounded as he registered what was on the screen and you rescinded your hand. You pressed the phone to your chest.

“See,” You said. “They’re watching me.”

Rogers thought for a moment, his toe tapped as his blue eyes searched the wall behind you. “We can’t let you stay here. It’s not safe.”

“But… but you can’t… you…”

“We’ll keep that little video between us,” He said gently. “But in good conscience, I can’t let you stay.”

“So… you taking me in?” You asked.

“They don’t process people for noise complaints,” Barnes assured. “And I doubt you’d want us to make up some other charge. Sure that would be quite the mark on your record.”

“So…”

“You got friends?” Rogers asked. “A couch to crash on?”

“Hmmm,” You opened your phone and scrolled through your contacts.

Maya was out of town til Friday, Ashley didn’t have much room and her fiance wasn’t your biggest fan, and everyone else was outside the city. Adam was a definite no. “No… I… No one in the city.”

Steve pursed his lips as he thought. “Well,” He started carefully. “It’s a bit unorthodox but… I got a couch, a whole guest room actually. I could… see ya through the night and you can figure something out in the morning?”

“Oh?” You were taken aback at the offer. “I don’t know… I’d hate to… intrude.”

“You wouldn’t,” He said. “I’m on duty til midnight so I’ll drop you off, you’ll have the whole place to yourself for a couple hours at least.”

You furrowed your brow as you thought. “Couldn’t you get in trouble?”

“Only if anyone finds out,” Steve said. “You’re not gonna rat me out, are you, Barnes?”

Barnes chuckled. That was his answer.

“And if I say no?”

“Then we’d be obligated to seize your phone as evidence in the open case and we would charge you with obstruction.” Barnes stated plainly. “If we left you here and something happened, that’s on us.”

“Alright,” You relented. “Okay. I guess… you’re right.”

“Okay,” Steve said. “Why don’t you grab your stuff and we’ll wait for you in the hall?”

You nodded and attempted a smile. It fizzled as that same terrible doom nestled in your stomach. You shrugged it off as nothing more than the video on the phone and the unsettling knowledge that you had been under observation for so long. The officers closed the door behind them, their shadows loomed beneath the door. You’d be safe with them.

⚫

Rogers, rather Steve as he requested you call him, had a nice house. Barnes grumbled that his name was Bucky but was less insistent. Steve showed you in, a brief tour before he left. The place was neat; orderly even. The carpet in the living room was recently vacuumed, the television sat on a large stand with alphabetized movies lining its lower shelves. Every inch of the room was carefully arranged.

Except for the laptop. The computer sat on the coffee table, closed and lifeless. You wondered if he had left it there in a hurry or if that was just the place for it. You paced around the room and overanalyzed every inch of it. Anything to distract you from what had led you here.

When your nerves finally relented, you climbed the stairs to the guest room where he had left your bag. You changed into a pair of pajama pants and a cropped tee. You’d grabbed the wrong one. You tucked away your old clothes and left the bag against the wall. You closed the door and crawled into bed with your phone.

You opened your Spotify and lowered the volume so that the tones floated through the air softly. You let the music lull you in this unfamiliar place. You wrapped yourself in the thick duvet and curled up on the bed’s edge. You drifted off and your dreams carried you back to your apartment.

You were roused once by footsteps passing your door. You sat up frantic and raced over to ease it open. It was only Steve. He disappeared through a door and you fell asleep once more; this time to the hum of the shower across the hall. This time, you didn’t dream.

When you awoke again, the sun shone in through the lace curtains and you sat up with a groan. You hadn’t slept so well since before the break-in. You stretched and stood with a yawn. You tidied your hair with your fingers and crept out to the hall. You listened for any hint of movement. Maybe he was still sleeping.

You carefully descended the stairs. You rubbed your eyes as you entered the living room. You stopped dead beside the couch. The laptop was open and on. The screen shone back at you. The air went out of you and you stumbled around and dropped down onto the couch.

You apartment was clear across the screen. The cameras flicked between each room. The stream was live, the place was still a mess. You squinted and tried to understand. How? What was going on? You stood and scurried around the couch. Steve blocked your path and coffee splashed over the edge of the mug in his hand.

“Woah,” He grabbed your shoulder and steadied you. “I thought I heard you. I made you a coffee.”

“Steve,” You pulled away from him. “What the hell is going on?”

He didn’t seem bothered by your panic or your discovery as he smiled over at the laptop. He set you mug down on the table and turned to face you.

“What? I just wanna keep you safe.”

“How did you-- I don’t--” Your breath hitched as you backed away from him.

“Just sit down and have your coffee and we’ll talk.” He reached out to you.

“N-no, I… wanna go.” You gulped. “Steve, I’m going.”

He tilted his head, amused. You edged around the table to the other end of the couch. He didn’t move. But as you made to pass the sofa, you were blocked again. Bucky emerged from the kitchen. He closed you in as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.

“Where are we going?” He asked.

“What the-- You… you better let me go or-- or---”

“You’ll call the police?” Bucky laughed. “Go ahead.”

You winced and looked between them. Your head spun. “It was… you. Wasn’t it?”

“We had to show you,” Steve said.

“Show me?” You sputtered.

“That you need us. That you aren’t safe by yourself.”

“No, no, I was safe without you,” You spat. “You’ve been…. Oh, I’ve been so… stupid.”

“You’re lucky it was us. This city is full of scum. Could you imagine if one of them had picked your lock? You know what we’ve seen done to girls like you?” Bucky neared and you backed away, your leg knocked the corner of the table. “Those men, they do worse. Cut girls up and if they don’t just maim them, they kill them. Leave them on display as a little present for us.”

You were stopped suddenly. Steve pressed himself to you as his arms wrapped around your body. “We don’t want to hurt you,” He cooed.

“No,” You wriggled and tired to kick at Bucky. “No, no, no. Please--”

Bucky caught your legs and lifted them. You continued to squirm as the men held you between them. “Now, we don’t want to hurt you,” Bucky grunted. “But if we need to, we will… we can.”

“Why are you doing this?” You whined. “Ple-e-ease.”

“Mmm, I love to hear her beg,” Bucky said as they angled you around the couch. “‘Please, Officer, he’s just a kid.’”

You struggled harder as he imitated you. Your veins turned to ice as you recalled that day. Uneventful but for their visit. You hadn’t thought much of it; you’d dealt with enough cops at your job. But they had taken it as more. As an opportunity.

“Now, stop,” Bucky squeezed your legs. “You’re gonna hurt yourself or we’re gonna have to hurt you.”

They carried you towards the stairs. You stilled but trembled in their grasp. “Please…” You croaked. “Please… don’t do this.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Steve’s arm hugged your waist as his hand brushed across the bare patch of your stomach. “You’ll be safe here. I made it safe for you.”

“Ugh, no,” You wriggled again but it was hopeless. They were both too strong.

They ignored your resistance easily and past the door of the room where you’d slept. They took you inside the one at the end of the hall, a large bed inside. They dropped you on it and you tried to hop up. Bucky caught you by your arm and forced you back down. Steve grabbed your other wrist as they pulled you up the mattress.

There were cuffs attached to the posts. They forced your wrists into them and locked them tightly. You kicked your legs desperately as they pushed themselves off the bed. The metal dug into your skin.

Bucky crossed to the desk by the window and took a pair of scissors. He neared the bed again and Steve approached him. He held out a hand and they had a silent exchange. Bucky handed the scissors over and Steve smiled.

Bucky grabbed your ankles and held them down as Steve got up on his knees and carefully cut along the side of your pants. He tugged them out from beneath you and tossed them away from him. Then he cut away your shirt and you sniffed back the tears as they burned in your eyes. Your panties were all that were left.

Steve handed Bucky the scissors and climbed between your legs. He held them down as he bent to nuzzle your cunt through the panties. He inhaled and sighed. You quivered helplessly. “Steve, please,” You begged. “I’m scared.”

His hands slipped from your legs and you tried to kick him. Bucky caught your left ankle and squeezed. “I’ll break it. Now stop.”

You went limp and let out a pathetic sob. Steve’s large hands stretched across his stomach as he pulled aside your panties with the other. His cool tongue made you squeak as it delved between your folds. Shyly at first, as if tasting you, as if savouring you. You closed your eyes and clutched your hands in fists. It shouldn’t feel good.

Bucky paced around the bed. You opened your eyes and found him watching. His jaw clenched as his eyes darkened. His gaze met yours and he slid his tongue across his bottom lip.

“You like fucking that dude on your couch like a slut?” He snarled. Your lips parted and you shuddered. Steve’s tongue plucked at your core. “Well, you’re gonna like this a whole lot more.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and bit your lip as you whined. Steve’s tongue circled your clit and he suckled. He dragged two fingers along your folds and spread your juices. Your thighs tenses and you bent your legs as you tried to fight the rising waves. You couldn’t. You succumbed with a long moan, rattled as you writhed. He purred as you came into his mouth.

He drew away slowly. He let your panties slip back into place and Bucky took his spot. He pushed your panties against your slick cunt until they were soaked. He grinned and pulled at the seams until they snapped. He ripped them out from beneath you and threw them at Steve who admired them and sniffed them without shame.

You let out a yelp as Bucky shoved two fingers into you without warning. He rammed them in and out a few times before he slowed. He turned his hand and curled his fingers as he pressed his palm to your clit. He squeezed and moved his hand frantically. You couldn’t help your yipes, the shock as the tension built again, this time quicker.

He forced the orgasm from you and left you sore and groaning. He licked his fingers clean and shoved them in your again. This time he was slower but your body responded. He drew you to the edge and stopped. He pushed himself away and wiped his fingers along your thigh. He stood and patted Steve on the shoulder.

“You first,” Bucky said. “While she’s fresh.”

Steve nodded and rolled his tongue behind his bottom lip as he looked to you. You averted your eyes as he began to undress. Each piece of clothing fluttered to the floor loudly in the deathly silence. The mattress shifted and you still couldn’t look. He bent over you and his mouth closed around your nipple.

He played with your tits for a while. Tended to them as if reluctant to move on. He plied kissed along your stomach, your hips your vee. He sat up on his heels and draped your legs over his thick thighs. His cock prodded at your cunt and he rubbed his tip along your folds.

He eased into you as he shifted closer. Had your ass off the mattress as he sank to his limit. You let out a moan, as much pain as pleasure. Your walls were snug around him and clenched around him. He began to rock slowly. Each time he wiggled his pelvis against you, sinking as far as he could.

As his pace mounted, you sensed movement at the end of the bed. Clothes thrown to the floor heavily. Bucky came around and stood at the side of the bed. He lifted a knee onto the bed and then another. He neared and lifted your head with one hand. You tried to turn away and his other hand went to your throat.

“Don’t even think of biting me,” He sneered. “Or you won’t have teeth left.”

“Hey,” Steve warned between huffs. “Be nice… Oh, sweetheart.”

Bucky’s hand went to your jaw and he squeezed until you opened your mouth. He slid his cock past your lips in a single motion and cradled your head as he thrust down your throat. He groaned as you gagged and spasmed. The static built and threatened to erupt as Steve sped up.

Your eyes rolled back and you came, your cries muffled by Bucky’s cock. Slobber spilled out around your lips as he fucked your mouth and kept time with Steve’s increasing pace. You struggled to breath around Bucky as your body bounced against Steve. Then suddenly it stopped.

Steve pulled out and let out a groan. Bucky took it as a cue and slipped out of your mouth so quick you choked. Steve stood and went to the night stand. He opened the drawer and pulled out a key. He held it up and looked to Bucky.

“We’ll flip her.” He said and Bucky nodded.

He unlocked the cuff from around the bedpost and handed the key to Bucky who released your wrist from the other. They turned you over and held you down as they twisted your arms behind your back and cuffed them together. You were left face down on the mattress as they moved around you.

You were dragged back and Steve climbed up to sit between you and the bedframe. He lifted your head and rubbed his cock against your lips. You opened and he pushed himself to your throat. You were ashamed. Ashamed because that voice in your head told you to be. Because you body would not obey that voice.

You felt Bucky behind you. He slipped his hands under your hips and lifted your ass as he knelt between your legs. He guided his cock along your folds and plunged into you just as roughly as he had with his fingers. You were jolted forward and gagged on Steve’s cock as it hit the back of your throat.

And they picked up their tempo again. They moved your body back and forth between them, your back arch painfully. Bucky’s hand spread across your ass and he slapped you. He pinched you and you groaned around Steve and Bucky spanked you again. Steve kept your head bobbing up and down as you knotted your fingers together behind your back.

You hummed as you came. Your walls tightened around Bucky and you felt the gush around him. He went faster, the sounds of flesh grew louder, and Steve’s voice flowed through you as he moaned. He swore and his hands clutched your head as he stilled you. He came with a twitch and spilled down your throat.

He pulled out and his cum leaked from your mouth. He traced his finger around your lips as he played with the mix of his semen and your spit. He pushed two fingers against your tongue until you sucked on them and he pet your head in approval. He rescinded his head and moved so that your head rested against his thigh.

Bucky didn’t waver. He fucked you even harder as Steve’s hand rubbed your shoulder. Bucky grunted then growled. He didn’t stop though and only did when he had cum entirely. He stayed inside you as he caught his breath. He rolled his hips and sighed.

“I told you,” Bucky said. “It would be worth the wait.”

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lils-writes-stuff · 4 years

Text

Divining Rod

spencer reid x reader

Summary: The death of a serial killer rises another and the team must stop it.

warnings: normal criminal minds things,

A/N: based on season 7 episode 21

“A row house in Demount Circle wow,” Penelope said, astonished at the news Emily just gave.

“I can’t believe I’m doing it.” Emily shook her head in disbelief at the news also. “I mean, it’s probably not gonna work out anyway, right?”

“That’s what I said before I found out I got my apartment so, you probably will,” Y/N said, laughing at the end of her sentence.

“Well, there are five other sealed bids, and I offered way below what the owners are asking,” Emily spoke, standing up from her chair and began walking. JJ, Y/N, Penelope, and Spencer stood up and followed her.

“Uh-huh, sounds to me like someone’s hoping they don’t get it.” JJ’s voice was filled with sass as she side-eyed Emily.

“Orthophobia, fear of owning personal property,” Spencer said from in front of the four women. He was intently looking over the case file in his hands as they walked to the round table room.

“No- I don’t have a fear of owning stuff, turn me loose in a shoe store, I’ll prove that,” Emily defended herself. “My fear is owning personal property that weighs three hundred tons.”

“Actually, depending on materials used, square footage, and horizontal versus vertical construction, the average house only weighs sixty tons,” Spencer retorted, spewing off his knowledge without even a second thought.

“Well, thanks for that Reid, I feel light as a bird,” Emily said sarcastically.

“It’s okay Em, it took me months before I could even settle into my apartment because I couldn’t feel at home, it just takes time.” Truly Y/N felt uncomfortable because the last place she lived in by herself all her friends were tormented in, but Emily didn’t need to know or worry about that.

“What‘ve we got, baby girl?” Derek asked, breaking up the conversation to bring it to the case at hand.

“We have a killing in Enid, Oklahoma, and not the capital punishment one you are thinking of right now.” Penelope walked over to her chair and took a seat before she continued. “I’m talking about a woman named Cara Smith, who was murdered in her apartment minutes after the execution of Rodney Garret.”

“Neighbors saw her front door open and discovered the body,” Hotch added.

“Look Familiar?” Rossi asked directing everyone’s attention to the victim on the screen. Her appearance is the same as all of Garret’s victims.

“Young, pretty, short blonde hair,” JJ said, examining the photo.

“And stabbed directly through the heart.” Y/N brought her pen up in the air, showing that she realized what Rossi was saying.

“That’s exactly the way Garret killed his victims,” Spencer said as he remembered back to the Garret murders.

“So are we looking at a copycat?” Derek asked looking at those around the table.

“Or someone creating doubt the right person was executed,” JJ countered, looking at Derek next to her.

“In Garret’s case there was no doubt,” Rossi corrected. “His guilt was the slam dunk of all slam dunks. Prints, DNA, a confession…”

“He even led the police to where he buried two of his victims,” Spencer added to the list Rossi was creating.

“Garret killed 25 women before he was caught. If this new unsub is a copycat, the body count’s just getting started,” Emily said.

“Which is why we can’t waste time, wheels up in thirty.”

----------

“Firing squad? That’s new,” Y/N said after hearing Garret’s choice of execution.

“It’s definitely not something you see every day,” JJ agreed.

“Well, Garret had the option of lethal injection, but he chose this instead,” Derek responded.

“Flair for the dramatic,” Rossi stated.

“No kidding.” Y/N let out a breathy laugh with her words.

“Initial reports indicate no forensic evidence at the crime scene,” Hotch said looking at the file in his hand.

“What about the ice pick?” JJ asked.

“It was generic, no serial number or unique metallurgy,” Derek answered looking at the paper that gave more detail on the pick.

“Well, now, it says here-” Emily pointed to a page in her file- “that there were water droplets and a half-filled flower vase on top of the chest drawers, but no flowers. Not in the vase, not in the garbage, nowhere.”

“Maybe the unsub took them,” Y/N posed, looking up from her folder.

A pinging sound came from the laptop as Penelope popped up on the screen.

“Hey, say it like you mean it, baby,” Derek greeted her.

“You know I’m gonna,” she replied before giving what she found. “So if you look in the dictionary, the word ‘normal’-” she held her hands up to show quotation marks- “you will see Cara Smith. College student, well-liked, straight A’s, English lit major- oh speaking of which I just got a transcript of Rodney Garret’s last words, hot off the press and a gold star to the first person who can identify the source of this: ‘She comes like fullest moon on a happy night, taper of waist-”

“‘With shape of magic might,’ it’s from the Thousand and One Nights, not the exact translation I would have used, but it’s got its own merits,” Spencer finished the last of the poem.

“And in a shocking non-upset, we have a winner,” Emily said, hopefully stopping Spencer before he would go on a spew of insight of the story.

“Garret was a sixth-grade dropout, an unlikely guy to be quoting from a Harvard classic,” Rossi said.

“The choice of material does make sense though,” Spencer began. “The book is all about how a Scheherazade forestalled her own death at the hands of the king by regaling him night after night with stories.”

“In the end, he won him over right?” JJ asked.

“Yes, the king found a love for her and decided not to execute her,” Y/N answered, looking at JJ. “Although I wouldn’t say that would be a strategy that would work with the Oklahoma Department of corrections.”

“Another body’s been found half a mile from the first victim, same M.O.” Hotch had stepped away to answer the phone and was now relaying the information he was just given to the team.

“That's six hours later, this guy’s not wasting a lot of time,” Derek said.

“We land in twenty minutes, Reid, you and Y/N go to the latest crime scene, Rossi, you JJ and Prentiss go talk to Garret’s widow. Morgan and I will go to the prison.” Y/N saluted Hotch at his order. “If Garret’s got a disciple, we need to find out who he is and fast.”

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

“Such a beautiful day for such a terrible thing to happen.” Y/N’s eyes looked up to the sky, observing the blue of it and the bright sun. She wasn’t really thinking about the case until she walked up the steps, always trying to fit the last of the good in before she saw the bad.

“I don’t think serial killers stop because of the weather, sweets,” Spencer said, raising an eyebrow at the thought.

“Hey, what did I say about nicknames at crime scenes,” Y/N said turning to Spencer who was slightly behind her.

He laughed lightly. “Not to use them, because you’re afraid they’ll be ruined,” he answered her remark.

“Exactly.” She pulled her credentials out of her back pocket to show the officer at the door. Walking into the house, a tall man turned around to greet the two.

“Hey, I’m detective Childers,” the tall man said walking up to Y/N to shake her hand. “You must be with the FBI.”

“Yes, I’m Agent Y/L/N, and this is Dr.Reid.” Y/N pointed to her right to the lanky brunette.

“Hi,” Childers said, holding his hand out for Spencer to shake. Spencer offered the man a small wave, as usual, opting out of the handshake.

Y/N offered a smile to the detective in hopes of trying to make the awkward moment go away. “How about you show us the scene.” Y/N changed the subject.

“Yeah, why don’t y’all follow me back here,” Childers said as he led the two over to the bedroom. “It’s unbelievable this is happening all over again.”

“Who is she?” Spencer asked as they entered the bedroom.

“Jodie Armstrong, single, works a cosmetic counter at a department store downtown,” Childers answered.

The body laid in the exact position it was found. Duct tape still on the mouth and wrists, and the ice pick stabbed into her heart.

“Young, pretty, short blond hair,” Y/N said as she looked at the victim’s appearance. “That’s the same victimology as the others.” She turned her head to look at Spencer, who’s eyes had been wandering the room around them.

“Who discovered the body?” Spencer asked.

“Apartment manager. A neighbor called to complain that a teapot in the kitchen kept on whistling,” Childers explained.

“So he surprised her.” Y/N said, turning as she watched the struggle play out around her. She pictured the unsub pushing her down and tying her onto the bed.

The three separated as Childers went to go handle something out front and Spencer and Y/N stayed to look around the scene more. Y/N gloved her hands and squatted down next to the bed, looking closely at the victim’s head. Pushing her head to the side, she moved her hair to and fro as she examined the hair cut. She noticed it’s unevenness and well, basically, it was a shitty hair cut for such a pretty young girl to have.

“Hey, Spence, come look at this.” Spencer looked over at Y/N who was across the room from him.

“What is it?” He asked, setting down the CD he had been looking at to walk over.

“This girl is young and she obviously cares about her appearance, she’s fit, her nails are done,” she said, laying one finger on top of the other as the listed off the things she’s noticed. “But her hair, look at it, it’s uneven.” She picked up the phone that had headphones plugged into the jack and turned it on.

“Could it maybe be a fashion statement, you know, look bad on purpose?” Spencer asked looking next to him at Y/N.

She shook her head, looking through the phone in her hand. She began to look through some things in her photos before she found a selfie of Jodie and some of her friends. “Look at this,” she leaned over to show Spencer the photo.

With two of her fingers on the screen, she zoomed in on Jodie, who in the photo had very long blonde hair. “It was taken last night,” she said after pointing to the timestamp at the bottom corner of the photo. “The unsub cut her hair.”

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

In the station, the mood was serious. Two bulletin boards stood side by side with large maps placed on the. Spencer, Hotch, Y/N, and Derek sat in swivel chairs from desks in the area they were in. Behind them sat JJ, Emily, and Rossi, who were looking through letters that were sent to Rodney Garret’s home.

“This new guy’s hunting in a different neighborhood,” Childer’s spoke after looking at the map.

“He must be comfortable in the area, he knew the victims’ routines,” Derek stated.

“His method of ingress and egress is quiet and unnoticeable,” JJ said, leaning back in her chair.

“Get a load of this one,” Emily began as she turned in her chair with a letter. “Dear Mr. Garret: It took a lot of courage to do what you did. Most people are cowards and don’t do what they feel inside them. You are an inspiration, and I applaud you.”

When Emily had finished the letter, Y/N barked out a laugh. “I’m sorry for laughing but ‘I applaud you’?” She just shook her head, the letter being very funny to her in a weird way.

“These are supposed to be the non-wacko letters,” Rossi said.

Everyone raised their brows in question. A computer beeping signaling the arrival of Penelope’s on a screen got everyone’s attention.

“Hey guess what, Y/N’s genius has struck again,” Penelope began as she popped up on the screen. “The hunch about the hair was right, I’m sending you an ATM image of Cara Smith. She’s the first victim, this was taken ten hours before her murder check it out.”

At that, everyone’s attention was brought to a screen. The video showing Cara walking up to the machine with very long hair compared to what was left on her body.

“The unsub cut her hair too,” Childers said as he looked at the video.

“You know, there could be a sexual element involved. Trichophilia is a fetish where one becomes aroused by the removal of hair,” Spencer said.

“Yeah, but, either way, this is starting to look less like a copycat,” Y/N said looking next to her at Spencer.

“The unsub’s deviating too much from Garret’s M.O., Garret never took trophies,” Derek said in agreement.

“He’s also choosing low-risk victims, Garret’s stayed with high-risk target- prostitutes, runaways--” Spencer said but was cut off by JJ.

“Garret also got sloppy and left clues that eventually nailed him, this guy’s careful and meticulous,” JJ said.

“He’s not that careful,” Childers corrected. “He leaves doors open, teapots boiling.”

“I think it’s intentional. He wants the bodies found so we know when and where he’s killing,” Hotch said.

The room fell silent again, everyone getting back to their work. Little conversation was made, Emily or Rossi reading off an obscure letter or Y/N saying something about the geographical profile to Spencer. All conversation halted due to Childers getting a call that there was another body.

“Reid and Y/N, come with me to the scene.” Hotch stood up, Y/N and Spencer following his request out of the room and to the scene.

Walking into the house, Y/N took note of how it was kept and lived in by the victim. She did so in hopes of gathering something for victimology. After noticing she fell behind Hotch and Spencer, she quickly caught up to them as they entered the bedroom.

The blonde woman laid on her back, her arms duct-taped to the foot of the bed. Her eyes were closed, and she almost looked peaceful, but the ice pick in her heart told them otherwise.

Hotch squatted down to the bedside and examined the side of her head that was exposed.

“He shaved her head,” Hotch commented. Y/N and Spencer stood on either side of him, looking over the body from behind their unit chief.

“That’s even more humiliation and disrespect,” Y/N said. She turned her head sideways as she looked at the poor and almost frantic shaved spot.

“He didn’t do it to the other victims.” Hotch stood up as he spoke, looking at Childers who was on the other side of the bed.

“Detective when was the body discovered?” Y/N asked.

“Half hour ago, the killer left the front and back doors open,” Childers responded. “And there’s no indication of any contact on the wine glasses swabbed for DNA.” He gestured to the CSI unit that was brushing the wine glass behind him.

“Not even the victims?” Spencer asked. His face doing its normal twist as he thought.

“The unsub probably wiped it clean,” Y/N said. The upper half of her body turned to her left to look at Hotch and Spencer.

“Has anyone found an open or empty wine bottle in the house?” Hotch asked, turning back to the detective after looking at Y/N.

“We haven’t found one yet.” Childers shook his head.

“He probably took it with him, like the flowers of his first victim,” Spencer commented.

“He’s killed at six A.M., noon, and now six P.M.,” Hotch said, looking between Y/N and Spencer.

“That’s not a long cooling-off period.” Y/N spook with a sigh as she stuffed her hands in her pockets.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m not feeling so good about the stroke of midnight.” Spencer’s eyes bounced between the three in front of him. All of them nodding their heads in agreement at the comment.

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

“We believe we’re looking for a white male between the ages of thirty and forty who is strong enough to subdue physically fit young women with minimum resistance,” Hotch said. The team stood in front of a crowd of local officers as they told the profile. Rossi and Emily had found out that the same man that wrote the letter Emily had read to them were some of Garret’s favorites. Taking that, they presumed that the man who wrote the letters was more than likely the unsub.

“He’s forensically sophisticated and evidence-conscious,” Derek added.

“He targets his victims in advance and leaves no trail.” Y/N stepped forward as she spoke, coming into line with Derek.

“This person is also confident.” Emily paused, then continued. “He’s been taunting us by revealing his crime scene quickly.”

“Because of his ability to plan and flawlessly execute his crimes, we’re looking for someone capable of holding down a job. Even though it’s probably menial and unfulfilling,” Rossi said. His hands stuffed into his pockets as his shoulder shrugged when he spoke.

“The victims have all been young, blonde, and pretty. As such, they reflect a certain societal standard of perfection that may actually represent the type of women that are unattainable to this unsub,” Spencer explained.

“He cuts his victims’ hair, and then he takes it with him, this could be another way for him to possess a part of them,” Y/N said, bouncing off of Spencer’s statement.

“Or to degrade these unattainable women, make them uglier,” JJ added on to Y/N’s words.

“The killer has been murdering in six-hour increments. He is, in effect, time-stamping his victims, there’s no reason to believe he will deviate from that now,” Rossi said.

“Which means the next kill will be at midnight.” Y/N emphasized her words as she spoke.

“The public needs to be alerted to stay off the streets for all non-essential activities,” JJ said. “Single women should not be in their homes alone,” she continued, her warning to the people relaying its importance.

“Every available officer will be out in full force tonight, we need to blanket this city,” Emily commanded. The officer’s around the room nodding that they understood.

“We do have one advantage,” Hotch began. “A killer who uses this kind of precise timing and specificity is easy to disrupt. We can use his own M.O. against him,” he explained. The officer’s around the room were then dismissed and went to get ready for the night out.

As the sunset fell over the city of Enid, the officers suited up and began to canvas the town. Emily and Derek joined them while the others stayed back and helped run point. While they waited, they had Penelope do some more digging into Garret to find out who the unsub might be.

“What you got, Garcia?” JJ asked as she answered the call from Penelope.

“I have found a thing of interest regarding these shanking attempts made on Garret in prison,” Penelope began.

“What is it?” Hotch asked, curious as to what she found.

“The timing, see, the first time Garret was attacked was May 25, 2008, the day before that, May 24, for those of you keeping score, Garret’s imminent execution date was postponed, right?” Penelope’s question was rhetorical so everyone stayed quiet as she continued.

“So then if you flash forward to the second shanking attempt of stabby-ness, that would be November 15, 2010. The day before that, his next execution date, also postponed.” When Penelope had finished her explanation everyone was basically one the same page of what was happening.

“Okay, so I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say someone decided to take matters into their own hands,” Y/N said. She crossed her arms across her chest and popped her hip to the side, the resting position she stood in when she thought.

“Thanks, Garcia,” JJ said, her finger hovering over the hang-up button on the computer.

“Ever welcome, my comrades.” JJ hung up the call and turned back to those behind her.

“Well, that sounds like what you would think of somebody on the outside wanting a little revenge,” Childers said, his head turning to Rossi and Hotch beside him.

“They wouldn’t wait five years, give it two tires, and then toss in the towel,” Rossi stated, his head shaking as he didn’t believe that theory.

“It sounds to me like someone just needed Rod Garret out of the way,” JJ said, adding in her own theory.

“But Garret was on death row, confined to his cell 23 hours a day. How was he in anybody’s way?” Hotch questioned, both theories not making sense now.

“Since we’re on the subject of things that don’t make sense, the unsub left the doors open after the murders,” Y/N said, bringing in a new topic in hopes of coming up with something new.

“Okay, that’s directed at law enforcement-- catch me if you can,” Rossi responded to Y/N’s thought.

“But the cutting of the hair,” Y/N said her voice trailing off in question.

“That’s for Garret,” Hotch finished, knowing what Y/N was thinking now.

Rossi nodded agreeing with Y/N.

“Well, what makes you think that?” Childers asked her.

“Well, Garret chose victims who were easy prey-- drug addicts and prostitutes. But this unsub has chosen more difficult targets but gone to the trouble of making them look like Garret’s victims,” Hotch answered, turning to Childers.

“That’s his way of telling Garret, ‘I can do better than you’,” Rossi elaborated.

“Okay, but why wait until after the execution to start killing? If the unsub really wanted to thumb his nose at Garret, wouldn’t he want him to be alive to see it?” JJ asked, not fully understanding this theory.

“Exactly, that’s the part that doesn’t make sense.” Y/N pointed as she spoke.

“Them we’re missing something,” Hotch said.

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

When the sun rose, the team had been at the station all night. In the early morning hours, another victim was found with a different M.O., stab wounds. Since the unsub could not kill his victim properly, this led them to believe that the killer could go on a spree. The unsub also removed her scalp this time, taking away most of her hair.

The clock on the table flipped to 9:44 A.M., and Y/N’s eyes were heavy. She laid on a bench, her head resting on Spencer’s thigh. His hand rested on his arm that was propped on the railing of the bench. The two sat peacefully, Y/N was not totally asleep, but her mind was in and out of full consciousness from the long night. She wasn’t totally sure if Spencer was asleep either, his body not moving which she was grateful for. His warmth was what kept her so at peace, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to stay like that for long.

“I never could do that,” Rossi stated as he looked at Y/N and Spencer who had their eyes closed.

“Do what?” Emily asked, her eyes following Rossi’s over to the sleepy couple. She let out a small ‘awe’ as she noticed the two.

“Take a nap, it never felt natural,” Rossi answered, not appreciating the cute moment.

“I’m actually wide awake,” Spencer said, sitting up from his position. His movement stirred Y/N as she moved to get comfortable again, but never opening her eyes.

“But for future reference, polyphasic sleep is completely natural. Quite common in the animal world, and highly beneficial.” His eyes panned to Y/N who was still, he believed, asleep on his lap. “However, I believe Y/N is very much taking a real nap.”

“Shhhh.” Y/N reached one of her hands to her lips sleepily, placing her index finger on her lips. She sighed after a second and sat up, realizing she was now fully awake and there was no going back to whatever state of sleep she was in before. “Okay, I give I’m awake.”

“All right, six o’clock’s way come and gone, if our guys killed again, he’s not leaving the front door open,” JJ said after looking at the clock.

“Or he could just be taking a breather,” Derek posed the counter. “I mean, even the unsub has to realize he can’t keep up this pace indefinitely.”

“Maybe the last murder completed some sort of cycle,” Rossi said, saying his thoughts aloud.

“What do you mean?” Y/N asked, leaning her forearms on her thighs.

“A day and a night have passed, the sun rises for the first time in a world without Rod Garret,” Rossi answered, his hands moving as he spoke.

“There could also be a more mundane reason, our guys got a job, and yesterday was his day off,” Emily said.

“He killed his first three victims in their homes-” Hotch pointed to the markers on the map where the homes were- “But the last victims, Emily Sisk, he tried to but he couldn’t. SO he abducted her, took her somewhere else, and then brought her all the way back to dump her body in front of her apartment building.” Hotch’s voice got slightly aggressive as he spoke, irritated as to why he didn’t know how that happened.

“That’s incredibly risky considering all the increased police presence,” Y/N said, agreeing with Hotch.

“There’s gotta be a geographic component to the unsub’s design,” Hotch said turning back to the map on the board.

“Let’s connect the dots, literally.” Spencer stood up from his seat next to Y/N and walked to the board. He pulled a red marker out of his pocket and drew lines to connect all four homes.

The lines formed an upside-down arrow almost.

“A tip of a spear,” Emily guessed, turning this into a game of Pictionary.

Y/N walked up to the board to get a closer look at the design. Her head cocked to the side as she thought.

“Maybe it’s an arrow pointing south? Could he be steering us to his next victim?” Derek asked as he pointed to the bottom of the arrow.

“It’s a quadrilateral, but there’s nothing particularly symbolic about a four-sided concave polygon,” Spencer said, pointing out the math of the shape.

“Spence, can I?” Y/N said reaching for the marker in his hand. Spencer nodded, handing her the red marker. “Look what happens when you curve the lines.” She drew curves over the lines the Spencer drew, forming something in the shape of a heart.

“A heart,” Emily said, eyes trained on the drawing.

“Well, Garret and the unsub both killed their victims using stab wounds through the heart,” Derek said.

“And Garret was executed by a shot through the heart,” Rossi continued the theory.

Hotch then moved the clear map of all the roads and homes over the heart drawing on the board. In the center of the heart sat the home of Rod Garret’s wife, Helen Garret.

“Helen Garret,” Emily realized as Hotch put the map on top of the other.

“It’s all about her,” Hotch said, confirming the speculation Emily made.

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

After JJ, Rossi, and Hotch established that Helen was probably at the prison since she was not home, the rest of the team made their way there. When the others met up with them, all of them in their kevlar’s ready to take action, they met outside the gates of the prison to talk.

“So nobody saw what happened, but Helen’s car is still in the parking lot,” JJ said walking up to the group with Rossi and the warden.

“He’s got her,” Hotch said.

“The driver’s name is Dylan Kohler, he lives at 4488 Harmony Court,” the Warden said identifying the unsub.

“Did he work yesterday, Warden?” Y/N asked.

“No, he arranged for someone else to take his shift,” the Warden answered.

“I’ll have Garcia check into Kohler, but now that he’s tipped his hand, I doubt if he’s going back home,” Rossi stated, pulling out his phone to call Penelope.

“All right, Morgan, take Reid, Y/N, and Prentiss to the house of Kohler, see if they’re there just in case.” Derek nodded, then gestured for the three to follow him to a car to go to the home.

When they arrived at the home of Dylan Kohler, there was no sign of him or Helen. They headed out of the house to go back to the prison.

“Yeah, Hotch, they’re not here,” Derek said to Hotch when he answered the phone.

“Where the hell could they be?” Y/N asked looking to Spencer next to her as she holstered her gun. He shrugged his shoulders, opening the door for Y/N. She climbed in hoping to the seat on the left and Spencer sitting on the one on the right.

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

After finding Garret’s secret hideout, the team wrapped up the case, saving Helen Garret and were now on their way home. Y/N sat in the seat across from Spencer, eyes glancing at him every once and a while as he read. His finger trailing down the page, his steady breathing, and the curve of his nose entranced her as she looked at him.

She was sleepy, there was no doubt about it. Yet, her eyes couldn’t close as she looked at him, too caught up in his domestic feel to let it be intruded on by sleep that she desperately needed.

Tell him, the voice in her head whispered. Tell him how much you love him.

She couldn’t, at least not yet. Not until she knew that Caroline was out of sight, or if he said it first. But something in her told her that he knew she loved him. Simple acts like saying you need sleep or hold my hand was ways she was able to say she loved and cared for him without having to voice it.

Y/N’s thoughts were interrupted though by the beeping of a computer from behind her in.

“Oh, hey, guys, hey,” Penelope said with a sleepy voice. Y/N turned in her chair to listen to the conversation. “I just wanted to see what was going on.”

“This better be important, Garcia,” Emily said irritated as she was woken from her slumber.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Penelope was playing it off, the excitement in her voice giving it away. “It’s just that a messenger came by the office today with some papers from Escrow!” Her voice was sing-song at the end.

Emily’s face became very surprised. “No!” She said, astonished and not believing the blonde on the screen.

“Oh, yes, the house in Dupont Circle-- you got it! Whoo!” Penelope was throwing confetti at the screen in excitement.

“Oh my God, Em, that’s so exciting!” Y/N said happily as she sat on her knees in her chair to face Emily.

“Congratulations,” Hotch said with a smile.

Then, Emily’s face fell and she looked like she was going to be sick. Y/N and Spencer stood up to sit on the couch so they could be closer to the conversation.

“Six seconds, fastest case of buyers remorse ever,” Rossi said, looking down at his watch then at Emily.

“Well, I say the moment we land, we all head over to Ziggy’s and clear out the champaign inventory,” Derek said sitting next to JJ.

“And talk Prentiss down off the ledge,” JJ chuckled as she looked at Emily’s horrified face.

“Oh, my stomach doesn’t feel so hot.” Emily clutched her stomach.

They all let out a small laugh at Emily’s reaction.

“I was in the middle of the best dream,” JJ said changing the topic. “I dreamt that I was at this exclusive salon getting my hair done.”

The toll from the event of the last two days pressing themselves on her dreams. The thought of having a wig made of human scalp and hair placed on her head made Y/N shudder at the thought when she was told.

“Ah, the psychotherapeutic benefits of dreams-- purging unpleasant images and replacing them with good ones,” Spencer said, giving insight on to why we dream things like that.

“Yeah, ‘unpleasant’ is putting it mildly, bub,” Y/N said looking at Spencer next to her.

“If someone put a bloody wig on my head, I would have ripped that thing off and kept it off.” JJ thought back to how Helen let the wig sit on her head when they found her.

“Well, you’d think instinct would take over,” Derek said agreeing with JJ.

“Oh, hey, Rossi, I meant to ask you, what did Helen mean at the end when she said ‘daddy was right’?” JJ asked turning to look at Rossi across from her.

Rossi let out an annoyed sigh. “He once told her that she was a divining rod for the evil in men. That she could sniff it out when nobody else could.”

“There was definitely something a little strange about her,” Emily said as she recalled the time she and Rossi had to speak with her.

“It’s curious, one woman at the center of two serial killers.” Hotch’s voice was low as he voiced his thought.

“Yeah, what are the odds of that?” Y/N said, her question being rhetorical but she knew Spencer would answer.

“Astronomical.”

Ah, there’s the answer, Y/N thought.

“Removing from the calculations serial killer groupies--” Spencer was cut off by Hotch lightly hitting her arm to have him stop.

“Y/N, why’d you ask?” JJ laughed. Y/N just shrugged, knowing she’d get the answer she kinda wanted to hear later.

“You know, whether she knew it or not, maybe Helen Garret did give Dylan something,” Derek said as he thought more into it. “I mean someone once said that every seed, even malignant ones, they won’t grow unless they get water from someplace.”

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

That night, after going out to celebrate Emily’s new house, Y/N walked into her home. Stumbling as her lips were connected to Spencer's. The impromptu makeout session starting at the door when Spencer started to say goodnight, but Y/N had a little too much champaign and really wanted a good ‘ole fashion junior-high makeout session.

She pushed him back to her couch, the two giggling like thirteen-year-olds as they kissed. She straddled his lap as they continued to kiss. It was childish and full of smiles and teeth as they giggled. Still, the kiss was full of love and tenderness as Spencer would caress the side of her face with his large hands. Or when she would grab the front of his sweater to pull him closer to her.

“I really need to go home,” Spencer said. His lips brushing against Y/N’s as he spoke.

She didn’t listen and kept placing pecks on his lips before she let their lips mold together in bliss.

“No,” she protested quietly as she pulled away, then went back to his lips.

He chuckled, trying to pull back again to speak, but her lips chased his. “I’m not taking advantage of you, sweets,” he said gentlemanly.

She sighed, knowing that she was slightly drunk and he wasn’t going to keep going since she was. “Fine, but you owe me.” She poked his chest with every word. “Always a gentleman, even when I’m horny, but it’s fine.” Her words were a slur of mutters under her breath, but he heard her and laughed.

“Always.” He pecked her lips one more time as she stood up and led him to the door.

Once Spencer had given her one more kiss goodnight, promising her a coffee in the morning at work, she closed the door and turned to the inside of her apartment. A sigh of relief leaving her as she stepped further into her safe environment. She took her boots off and placed them by the door and moved her keys she dropped on the floor in the bowl on the table. She began to walk to her kitchen but stopped when her eyes caught glimpse of a letter.

She hastily pulled the wax seal back to open it, but became confused as she looked at the note.

Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.

She laughed, it was a pathetic line to spook her that wouldn’t work. She put the note back in the envelope and placed it with others.

She thought nothing of it. She didn’t think she would need too, but everything Caroline did had meaning. This too would show it’s meaning soon.

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added!!):

@throughparisallthroughrome @word-scribbless @nintendumbfuck @confused-and-really-hungry @justine-en @andiebeaword @itsarayofsunshine @baby-i-am-fireproof @abitofeverythinggg @nanocoool @marceline-is-my-spirit-animal @fancyfaucet @im-a-raging-gay @atletino @mo-whore @peterparkersdestiny @bandsandjill @mbowles23-blog @sarcasm-n-insomnia @citrussirus @nerual222 @april-14-blog @reidloversisforever @heavenlyholland

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid series #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds meme #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #derek morgan #derek morgan imagine #Matthew Gray Gubler #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal mids fic #Penelope Garcia #emily prentiss #jj #jennifer jareau

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auroras-blend · 3 years

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First Day of School

Summary: AU one-shot of what would have happened if the Marks had won the custody battle. Told in Marilyn's POV

Sunlight peeked through the curtains and cast onto an empty bed, unusual since its occupant rarely woke up before then. No, instead little Miss Marilyn Winslow woke up with the birds who were singing joyfully outside and for once, she didn’t hiss at their loudness. Her mood reflected their demeanor as she whistled and sang along with them.

Marilyn clasped the white buckle to her mary-janes, before straightening in front of her mirror. Perfect! Her outfit was the most important thing that morning. It took her mind off of her nerves because she had a very big task in front of her: the first day of school. It was her first, first day of school since her Mama had passed and while the ache was there, she refused to go in sad. I have to make a good impression!

If there was one thing her Mama at least always tried to do, it was to make sure she looked good on the first day of school. Of course on their budget, most of the time it had been from the thrift store but once in first grade, she got a new dress. This year, Mrs. Marks offered to let her pick out her own and buy it new, but Marilyn insisted on going to the thrift store for a new dress or “slightly used” because that’s what she and Mama did. The old lady who ran the shop was happy to see her once again.

Marilyn, in a way to pay tribute to her mother, wore a green gingham dress because the color always looked so wonderful with her eyes. It was slightly tailored to fix a rip, but it was barely noticeable now. Pleased with her outfit, Marilyn fluffed her blonde curls and tightly set a white headband on her head before nodding in satisfaction and left her room. The smell of sweet maple syrup wafted from the kitchen, leading her like a moth to the flame. The minute her heels clicked on the tile, her parents smiled. “Look at you!” Daddy exclaimed, putting down his paper, “Look at how beautiful you are!”

Mrs. Marks smiled, “You’re a dream!”

Her mommy briefly abandoned plating the pancakes in exchange for coming to see her daughter’s first day of school outfit. “Thank you,” Marilyn blushed.

“You’re going to have such a good day, I know it,” Mommy said surely as she kissed Marilyn on the forehead.

It was rough for a long time, it still was, after her Mama died. Marilyn still longed for her real daddy, not that she’d ever tell Mr. Marks that, but the ache in her heart and mind started to dull. The small family sat around their table and said their prayers. “And Lord, please give Marilyn a wonderful first day of school,” Daddy said lastly, “Amen.”

“Amen,” she and Mommy finished before they began eating.

As they had their breakfast, Mommy went over the pick-up and drop-off routine. Marilyn knew it, they had been doing it since she started living with them. “We’ll both take you today, we don’t want to miss your first day,” cooed Mommy, “But Daddy will pick you up and take you with him to the church where you’ll be with me in the daycare for the last hour, okay?”

“Okay,” she said pleasantly, her mouth full of sticky, sweet, fluffy pancakes.

Her nerves were high, wondering if she’d be in the same class as Rodney Lord again or if she’d spend another year friendless, but she always felt that way on the first day. Mama, please help me have a good time. She wiped her stinging nose before anyone could notice, I don’t wanna be the class crier this year. She’d been on a pretty good no crying streak this summer, of course, there were days where she did, but it hadn’t been as often as before.

In all honesty, she would have preferred her summer to last a little longer with the Marks because she had truly been happy. Marilyn felt like she was finally part of a normal family, nourished in warmth and affection that she hadn’t ever received before. And she was so excited to share that when people asked her what she did that summer because she finally had a fun and exciting answer! They had been to the county fair, the fireworks show, went to Baltimore for some conference Mr. Marks had to go to, but it had been a real family vacation!

It had been a relaxing time as she got to know her new parents and their daily routines. She loved waking up early some mornings, yes I know, I liked it and sneaking to sit with her daddy and color as he read through his Bible before helping her Mommy make breakfast. Breakfast used to be a meal she had to forgo, but now every day started at the table. Life was structured and comfortable, and as if to prove it, the clock struck right when she swallowed her last piece of pancake to fill her belly before school.

“Oh, finish your milk, we’ve gotta go!” Mrs. Marks said as she got up, clearing the plates as Mr. Marks went to get their coats, keys, and Marilyn’s backpack.

Cupping her glass with both hands, she guzzled it down as she watched her parents scurry to get ready before she let out a refreshing “ah” and handed it over to Mrs. Marks. “Kay peanut, ready?” Mr. Marks asked as he helped her out of her seat and into her dark green coat and new leather satchel.

That’s right, it’s new! They let her pick out her own backpack that year and she swore to keep it clean and safe at all costs. You’re on a mission, Miss Marilyn! “Hey,” Mr. Marks leaned down, “Still on for ice cream?”

She grinned and nodded, “Uh-huh!”

He gave her an agreeing nod. Mr. Marks said it would be their “thing”, every year at the end of the first day of school and last day of school, they’d get ice cream and talk about her day. They did it the previous year on her last day and it was one of her favorite memories, one that she tucked away and pulled out whenever she was feeling particularly sad. Mr. Marks gently reached for her hand and his wife for the other and walked out to the car together, ready to start her on her next adventure.

The ride was too short and too long all at once. They chatted but when they parked, amid the flurry of walking children and their parents, she frowned. When they noticed she’d become silent, they turned around, “You’re going to have a great day!”

“I-I’m gonna miss you…I don’t want to go,” she said, sounding like a frog was caught in her throat.

“Oh peanut, you’re gonna have so much fun though. You’ll make new friends, have a new teacher, and you’ve been practicing your reading all summer so you’re all caught up!” Mr. Marks reassured her.

“What if people make fun of me?”

“They won’t,” Mrs. Marks said firmly, “And if they do, they’re not worth being around.”

Since the adoption, people had been nicer to her but she was still nervous. “I-I’ve never not had...my Mama,” she said.

It was starting to hurt again. “Your Mama is still here, watching over you. You’ve got me, Daddy, and your mom up in heaven. Three adults who love you, that’s a lot.”

“God too,” Daddy added.

He has to say that. He’s a pastor. With a little more confidence knowing she had more people in her corner, she was able to step out of the car when the pastor opened it for her. Hand in hand, matching all of the other families with their children, they walked her to the front of the third-grade doors. “This is it,” Mrs. Marks said, “You’re going to do so well!”

Her adults kneeled down and gave her a big hug and wet kisses on her cheek, though her Mommy gave her more. “I love you so much,” she whispered into her ear.

“I love you too Mommy,” Marilyn said, hugging her tightly.

“And your other Mama loves you too,” Mrs. Marks added.

“Thank you,” Marilyn whispered.

The fact that Mrs. Marks never tried to bury her Mama’s memory, meant the world to her. After another proper minute, the bell rang and the students congregated to their assigned lines. Marilyn bravely and confidently walked to her own, head held up high. I can do this! Have a growth mindset.

Her head did turn to see her parents waving goodbye to her before she was forced to move forward in line to the doors. When she passed the threshold, she became an official third-grader at Summerfield Elementary. Showtime.

The first few moments were chaotic as her teacher, a woman with dark black hair styled in a flick-up, directed students to put their items away on the coat rack. Marilyn was already in awe, the woman was incredibly beautiful with warm hazel almond-shaped eyes that made her feel comfortable. And the way her teacher was looking at her, she knew she’d already become a favorite of hers. Marilyn gave her a shy smile and wave before turning to find her desk, looking for her name tag: Marilyn Marks.

Part of her was thrilled that her last name was Marks, but she didn't know how to cope with not being Winslow. She already knew it was naughty, but she resolved to lightly trace the name Winslow underneath it later. To honor Mama. “Boys and girls, take your seats!” her teacher instructed, clapping her hands together.

Marilyn slid into the hard wooden seat and squirmed for a bit, before looking around. No Rodney Lord! Yesss! “I like your dress,” whispered a girl next to her.

She had dark red hair tied back into pigtail braids. Marilyn glanced at her name, Sara Barnes. “Thank you, I like your sweater,” she said sweetly as her eyes appreciated the blue cardigan.

“I’m new, wanna play with me at recess?”

Marilyn’s heart uplifted! “Okay!”

A friend! I can go and tell daddy I have a new friend after school! “I’m Sara.”

“I’m Marilyn,” she said as they quickly shook hands.

“Alright, settle down! Give me zero voices in 3,2,1!” her teacher said as a hush fell upon the classroom.

Marilyn’s soft green eyes landed on her beautiful teacher. Her teacher was a glamorous woman who wore a dark blue dress, as sharp as her cheekbones.

“I am so happy to see you all here today!” she cooed, clapping her hands together before picking up a piece of chalk, “I am your new teacher! You may call me...”

She began to spell out the letters: M-i-s-s. Miss. S-a-g-e-s-s-e. Sagesse.

“Miss Sagesse,” she said, making brief direct eye contact with Marilyn, “Welcome to 3rd grade.”

She knew it was too early, but Marilyn allowed herself to smile at the promising start of her first day back at school.

#marilyn winslow #emilie marks #john marks #princess aurora #au to the au #bonus chapter #?

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crowdvscritic · 3 years

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round up // MARCH + APRIL 21

March and April were a whirlwind of vaccines and awards shows! A full year after we starting staying at home, the end of this weird chapter in recent history seems like it might finally be coming to a close, and this pop culture awards season—typically a time full of fun and glamour—captured our moment weirdly well. (Emphasis on the weird.) This month’s recommendations is filled with more Critic Picks than usual, so without further delay, let’s dive right in...

March + April Crowd-Pleasers

Double Feature — 2018 Action Thrillers: Bad Times at the El Royale + Den of Thieves

In Bad Times at the El Royale (Crowd: 9/10, // Critic: 8/10), Jeff Bridges, Cynthia Erivo, Jon Hamm, Chris Hemsworth, and Dakota Johnson are staying at a motel on the California-Nevada state line full of money, murder, and mystery. In Den of Thieves (Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 6.5/10), Gerard Butler takes on some of the best bank robbers in the world. Whether you like your action with a dose of mystery or the thrills of plot twists, these will fit the bill.

Double Feature — ‘80s Comedies: Caddyshack (1980) + Splash (1984)

In the mood for pure silliness? Take your pick between a mermaid and a gopher! Five years before The Little Mermaid, Tom Hanks fell for Daryl Hannah’s blonde hair and scaly tail, and John Candy was his goofy brother in Splash (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7/10). And four years before Ghostbusters, Bill Murray was the goof on a golf course full of funny people like Chevy Chase, Rodney Dangerfield, and Ted Knight in Caddyshack (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 6.5/10).

Double Feature — 1980s Coming-of-Age Films Starring Corey Feldman, Kiefer Sutherland, and Challenging Brother Relationships That Influenced Stranger Things: Stand by Me (1986) + The Lost Boys (1987)

Believe it or not, I had no idea these two ‘80s classics had so much in common when I chose to watch them back-to-back. In Rob Reiner’s adaptation of Stephen King’s Stand by Me (Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 9/10), four kids (Feldman, Jerry O’Connell, River Phoenix, and Wil Wheaton) are following train tracks to find a missing body. In The Lost Boys (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7/10), Corey Haim and Jason Patric move to a small California town and discover it’s full of ‘80s movie star cameos and…vampires? One is a thoughtful coming-of-age story and one is just bonkers, but both are a great time.

Spaceman by Nick Jonas (2021)

My love for the Jonas Brothers is well-documented, so instead of going down the rabbit hole I started digging at 15, I’ll talk about how Nick Jonas’s latest solo album will likely appeal to a wider audience than just the fans of the brothers’ bombastic pop records. It’s full of catchy tunes you’ll play on repeat and an R&B-influenced album experience about the loneliness we’ve experienced in the last year and how we try to make long-term relationships work.

Ted Lasso (2020- )

I love stories about nice people crushing cruelty and cynicism with relentless kindness, and Ted Lasso (Jason Sudeikis) is the warmest, most dedicated leader this side of Leslie Knope. Be sure to catch up on these witty and sweet 10 episodes before season 2 drops later this summer.

Double Feature — Tony Scott Action Flicks: Enemy of the State (1998) + The Taking of Pelham 123 (2009)

Tony Scott’s movies have got explosions and excitement in spades. I love a good man-on-the-run movie, and in Enemy of the State (Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 8/10), Will Smith is running through the streets of D.C. after getting evidence of a politician’s (Jon Voight) part in a murder. I also love a tense story set in a confined space, which is what Denzel Washington is dealing with in The Taking of Pelham 123 (Crowd: 9.5/10 // Critic: 7/10) after a hammy John Travolta takes a New York subway train hostage.

Double Feature — Baseball Movies: The Natural (1984) + Trouble With the Curve (2012)

Sue me—I love baseball movies. Robert Redford plays a fictional all-time great in the early days of the MLB in The Natural (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 9/10), and Clint Eastwood plays a fictional all-time great scout in his late career in Trouble With the Curve (Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 7.5/10). If you love baseball or actors like Amy Adams, Glenn Close, Robert Duvall, and Justin Timberlake, these movies are just right here waiting for you.

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Nate Bargatze: The Greatest Average American (2021)

Sue me—I enjoy Netflix standup comedy specials that are safe enough to watch with your whole family. That’s exactly the crowd I laughed with over Easter weekend, and while the trailer captures Bargatze’s relaxed vibe, it doesn’t capture how funny he really is.

The Mighty Ducks (1992)

I thought somewhere in my childhood I’d seen at least one of The Mighty Ducks movies, but after watching all three, I think my memories must’ve come from previews on the VHS tapes for other Disney movies I watched over and over again. The original still holds up as an grown-ups, which is why even my parents got sucked in to this family movie while just passing through the living room. Bonus for ‘80s movies lovers: Emilio Estevez is basically continuing Andrew Clark’s story from The Breakfast Club as an adult. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 6.5/10

Double Feature — New, Dumb Action on Streaming: Godzilla vs. Kong + Thunder Force (2021)

If you want something intelligent, go ahead and skip to the next recommendation, but if you’re looking for something stupid fun, these are ready for you on HBO Max and Netflix. Thunder Force (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 6/10) follows Melissa McCarthy and Octavia Spencer as they train to become superheroes who take on superhuman sociopaths wreaking havoc on Chicago, and alongside Jason Bateman, they do it with a lot of laughs. Godzilla vs. Kong (Crowd: 9.5/10 // Critic: 5/10) is, um, exactly what it sounds like, so I’ll skip a plot summary and just say it’s exactly what you want from this kind of movie. #TeamKong

3:10 to Yuma (2007)

All you need to know is Russell Crowe is an outlaw, and Christian Bale is the guy who’s got to get him on the train to prison. I also watched the 1957 version, which is also a solid watch if you love classic Westerns. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 8/10

Falcon and the Winter Soldier (2021)

Marvel’s newest series isn’t nearly as inventive as WandaVision, and it may not land every beat, but it’s worth a watch for the fun new gadgets, Sebastian Stan’s dry joke delivery, and its exploration into themes of what makes a hero and what governments owe their citizens. It’s a pretty satisfying entry in the MCU canon, but I’d also recommend re-watching Captain America: Winter Soldier and Civil War—the canon is getting expansive, and it’s getting trickier every year to keep up with all the backstory.

March + April Critic Picks

Best of 2020 Picks

As per usual, the months leading up to the Oscars becomes a binge period for potential Oscar nominees. In March and April, I watched many of the films that made my Top 20 of 2020, including Boys State, The Father, Judas and the Black Messiah, Let Them All Talk, Minari, Nomadland, On the Rocks, One Night in Miami…, Promising Young Woman, Soul, and Sound of Metal. You can read how I ranked them on my list for ZekeFilm, plus reviews of The Father, Minari, Promising Young Woman, and Soul.

Bonus: If you loved On the Rocks, don’t miss this feature and beautiful photography starring Sofia Coppola, Kirsten Dunst, Elle Fanning, and Rashida Jones for W Magazine.

Stranger Than Fiction (2006)

What would you do if you started hearing a voice who narrated your every thought and move? If you’re Will Ferrell, you’ll seek out a literary professor (Dustin Hoffman), fall in love (with Maggie Gyllenhaal), and track down the voice (Emma Thompson) who’s making ominous predictions about your future. Stranger Than Fiction is funny thought-provoking, and an unusual but welcome role for Ferrell. Crowd: 9.5/10 // Critic: 9/10

All the Royal Family News

Speaking of stranger than fiction, it’s been a busy few months for the Royal Family. We’ve celebrated 95th birthday of Queen Elizabeth, the 3rd birthday of Prince Louis, and the 10th anniversary of Will and Kate’s marriage. We also lost Prince Philip, and we watched the drama of Harry and Meaghan’s interview with Oprah. No matter what happens to their Crown, I don’t think we’ll ever get over our fascination with the Windsor family. A few pieces worth reading from the last few months:

“In Meghan and Harry’s Interview, Two TV Worlds Collided,” Vulture.com

“The Queen’s Man: Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, Dies,” TIME.com

“Obituary: HRH The Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh,” BBC.com

Goodfellas (1990)

One of my film opinions that makes me feel like a phony is that Martin Scorsese just isn’t my cup of tea. He’s brilliant, but his films tend to be long and dark, two qualities that are never my first choice…and somehow Goodfellas still worked for me? Maybe it was the TV edit graciously toning down the violence or maybe it was that Ray Liotta and Joe Pesci were firing on all cylinders, but for some reason this ‘90s classic didn’t suck the joy out of my evening like Scorsese often does. (Bonus: For a Martin Scorsese/Robert De Niro I don’t really recommend, head to the last section of this Round Up.)

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Fearless (Taylor’s Version) (2021)

Her voice has only matured, so Taylor Swift revisiting her old albums is like upgrading a blast to the past. Plus, the six new tracks make me feel like 15 crushing on that boy in Spanish class again, and her Grammys performance (just before her third Album of the Year win) was magical and folklore-tastic.

Double Feature — ‘60s Action Classics: The Guns of Navarone (1961) + Planet of the Apes (1968)

The Guns of Navarone (Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 8.5/10) follows Gregory Peck and David Niven as they destroy Nazi weapons in the Mediterranean. Planet of the Apes (Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 8.5/10) follows Charlton Heston as he attempts to escape from, well, a planet full of apes. The pacing of ‘60s films doesn’t always hold up, but that’s not the case with this pair. Both are still full of suspense, and you can’t go wrong hanging with casts like these.

Let Him Go (2020)

Kevin Costner and Diane Lane play a farming couple who unexpectedly help raise a boy who lost his biological father—sound familiar? But instead of a superhero origin story, they’re part of a thrilling Western with performances nuanced (Costner and Lane) and showy (Lesley Manville). If I’d watched this before completing my Best of 2020 piece, it likely would’ve been on my list. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 8.5/10

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The Oscars

I’m a ride-or-die fan of the Academy Awards, but I’ll admit even I found this year’s ceremony odd. Instead of focusing on what wasn’t so hot, I’ll recommend a few moments you don’t want to miss:

Emerald Fennell giving a shout-out to Saved by the Bell

Daniel Kaluuya acknowledging his parents’ sex life during his acceptance speech (??)

Yuh-Jung Yoon flirting with Brad Pitt and acknowledging she’s just “luckier” than her fellow nominees

Glenn Close dancing to…”Da Butt”?

You can also read about the historic wins and nominations from this year’s Oscar class and why the Golden Globes were an even stranger production weeks earlier.

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Trailer-palooza!

Movies are on their way back, y’all! I’m counting down the days until I can get back to a theatre, and even if some of these movies are duds, I’m planning to see all of them on a big screen if possible:

Those Who Wish Me Dead (May 14)

Cruella (May 28)

In the Heights (June 11)

Space Jam 2 (July 16)

Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings (September 3)

West Side Story (December 10)

Also in March + April…

To add to the Oscars love, you can listen to a conversation about what we learn about family, community, and society in some of the year’s biggest nominees on the Uncommon Voices podcast. I join regular hosts Michael and Kenneth in this episode, and I recommend all of their thoughtful discussions on their “What’s Streaming” episodes.

I’ve previously recommended the Do You Like Apples weekly newsletter, so I’m proud to share I contributed twice in March! I wrote about Love and Basketball, directed by Gina Prince-Bythewood, and one of my all-time favorite Julia Roberts rom-coms, Notting Hill. (I also tied to win their Oscars pool, but I suppose that’s less exciting for you than me.)

It was a busy couple of months on SO IT’S A SHOW! New logo, new email list, new Instagram, and a host of new episodes about a flop of a Madonna flick, a Swedish children’s TV show, an urban legend turned into a horror movie, one of the best films about journalism ever, and a Martin Scorsese movie about a real boxer.

Most of what I wrote for ZekeFilm in March and April was mentioned in Best of 2020 recommendations…except for The Nest, a film that couldn’t figure out what genre it wanted to be.

Photo credits: Nick Jonas, Royal Family. All others IMDb.com.

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othercat2 · 3 years

Text

Ficlet: That Thing Where the Writer Talks to Her Characters

"So, why is OtherCat muttering in a corner about butterflies, gege?" San Lang asks as he arrives with various bags of take out.

"She's been like this all morning," Xie Lian replies. He glances over at a young man with dark hair and an eye patch over his left eye. "This young man says it's because of a far western barbarian myth."

"Eh, sort of,"" the young man says. "It's more that she finished the first season of Heaven Official's Blessing and her brain exploded."

"Fuck you Xander Harris," OtherCat says.

"Also she's paranoid about unintentional Western Essentialism, because she's seeing something that isn't there," A short blond man says. He's wearing cargo pants, and a gray shirt. He stuffs a steamed bun into his mouth. "I dunno though, I'm seeing a Venn diagram involving butterflies, Beauty and the Beast, and Greek mythology here."

"With a tasty Taoist sword wizard filling," Xander says, freeing his order and some crab rangoons from a bag.

"I see," Xie Lian says, though he doesn't sound certain at all. He looks to San Lang, who only looks amused, and then to the others grabbing bags or already eating. "Perhaps someone else could explain."

"Absolutely no knowledge of Western Barbarians or their mythology!" Wei Wuxian says.

"Ditto, I'm too much of a barbarian," says a blond haired boy wearing dark spectacles over his eyes.

"I am much more familiar with mythologies of the eldritch," a young woman standing beside him says.

"I'm surprised Harper knows Greek mythology," A tall giant with dark skin and braided hair says. Harper's response is what was probably an obscene gesture.

"Beauty and the Beast, Eros and Psyche?" a red haired girl sitting over by Xander asks. She gives both San Lang and Xie Lian friendly if uncertain smiles, before asking OtherCat "Really?"

OtherCat groans. "Backward upside down and sideways inside out Beauty and the Beast, therefore, Eros and motherfucking Psyche. Kind of. Only it's 'Taoist sword wizards.' I really want to know if I'm just seeing things or if the writer did it on purpose."

"I like Shakespeare," a red-haired boy points out. "Why the hell would it be Western Essentialism or what the fuck ever if you thought the writer nabbed a Greek myth?"

"I don't know," OtherCat says, covering her face with her hands. "I just woke up this morning realizing he," --she points to San Lang--"could be Psyche, if Psyche was the one concealing herself from Eros, and therefore the Beast, and he"--she points to Xie Lian--"could pretty much be Eros, and therefore Beauty. Well, if Eros were actually Agape. You're so sweet and gentle my teeth ache," OtherCat says, and then she glares.

"Oh, well," Xie Lian says, flustered. "I wouldn't--"

"Gege is very sweet," San Lang says. "And gentle, and kind." Xie Lian becomes even more flustered.

"Yes, yes, we get it, you're very in love," snaps a older man with receding hair. He does not seem to have much in the way of fear, even at the sharp, sideways glance San Lang turns on him. "How is he Psyche?"

"The fucking. Butterflies," OtherCat grinds out. "Are Psyche's symbol Rodney. I'm just going to refer to him as serial killer Psyche from now on. Then with the reversed Beauty and the Beast thing, he goes, 'what if I were ugly?' And he vanishes because Xie Lian has realized or has admitted that he realizes San Lang is Hua Cheng. The reverse of the Psyche myth where Eros has to vanish because Psyche discovers her hubby is Eros. And maybe the next season is at least partly Xie Lian having the challenge of recognizing Hua Cheng again? I don't know!"

"You should really read the book," Nie Huaisang says, flicking a fan over his face to conceal his smile.

"That isn't going to tell me if the writer did it on purpose!" OtherCat shouts.

"She has trouble reading the translations," another red haired girl tattles. "She keeps getting distracted by meta and fan fic."

"And wips she should be working on, but isn't," a dark haired boy says irritably. His arms are crossed over his chest, and he is giving Writer a grumpy look.

"Still won't tell me squat! I would love to tell the writer 'hey, the entire Xie Lian/Hua Cheng thing makes me think of a very interesting Beauty and the Beast variation! But I can't because mostly likely the reaction would be 'what the fuck?' UUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGHHH!!" OtherCat tilts back in her chair, miming tearing her hair out in frustration or aggravation.

"Because Western Essentialism?" The orange haired boy asks, mouth twitching in a smile.

"Yes. Fuck you, Ichigo," OtherCat says. "Also, I'm not even going to talk about the marital scene. Not a fucking word."

#heaven official's blessing #anyway your dramatis personae:#xander harris (btvs)#willow rosenberg (btvs)#dave strider (homestuck)#rose lalonde (homestuck)#seamus z harper (andromeda)#tyr anasazi (andromeda)#karkat vantas (homestuck)#rodney mckay (sg:atlantis)#wei wuxian (modao zushi)#nie huiasang (modao zushi)#ichigo kurosaki (bleach)#orihime inoue (bleach)#san lang (heaven official's blessing)#xie lian (heaven official's blessing)#othercat (self)#i finished the first season #and yeah i woke up thinking: fucking butterflies!

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marvels-writings · 4 years

Note

Hi if you’re taking requests plz consider this! Carol x girl bff are roomates in uni, and they totally act like a married couple and everyone can see that except them who are in love but just thing the other person is overly affectionate and flirtatious cuz they both think the other is straight. Things they do which they think is normal: (cuddle / sleep in the same bed , excuse they use the other bed for storage/carol puts her hand on the reader’s thigh in the car/ they peck on the cheek/ flirt)

Glamour Girl (1)

Carol Danvers (Captain Marvel Masterlist)

Series Masterlist

A/N: I’ve actually gotten a lot of UNI requests recently ngl, but like here you go.

“Carol, I really don’t want to go!” You whined, flopping down angrily on the couch of your share dorm.

There was a frat party Carol wanted to go to, but she refused to go without you. You on the other hand, loved parties but there were people you absolutely hated at this party, and you’d had a shit day.

“Please?” Carol begged, moving to stand in front of you before standing on her knees, looking up at you with puppy eyes, short hair falling into her face.

“You’re begging?” You asked with a raised eyebrow, Carol nodded, clasping her hands together, holding back a smirk the best she could. Both of you knew this always worked on you.

“This is the last time your puppy eyes are working on me.” You stated, getting off the couch as Carol grinned at you, jumping up and hugging you from behind, pressing her face into your back.

“Thank you y/n/n.” She squealed, she was stronger than you but she allowed you to practically drag her into the main bedroom, the other one had too many things neither of you used in it.

You grumbled something and started picking out an outfit for the party, per Carol’s request, you picked one out for her too, telling her to get ready in the storage room while you got changed. Carol had whined until you’d finally picked out matching outfits, you were wearing a fav/color v neck top with thin gold stripes and a black denim skirt with a belt and black killer boots. Carol wore a similar colored tank top tucked into black ripped jeans and black vans.

“Ready?” She asked, you nodded, tucking your phone in the back pocket of your skirt and trying not to stare at Carol.

While walking out the dorm doors, Carol gently linked her finger with yours, slowly moving to hold your hand while walking to her mustang, you couldn’t help the blush that was creeping onto your face. Carol had been your best friend and roommate for years now, you loved her and she loved you. But you still couldn’t help the butterflies in your stomach whenever she smiled at you.

“You look really great by the way.” You stated as Carol opened the door for you, she smirked and closed the door before sliding into the driver’s seat.

“Not so bad yourself y/l/n.” She commented, revving up the car and grinning at the loud sound it made.

“Watch it Danvers.” You joked, she laughed and you swore your stomach exploded in butterflies, switching on the radio.

Glamour Girl by Rodney Hunter started playing and you couldn’t help but grin at Carol, this was the song which played at the party when you two first met, you danced to this song and talked for hours before you revealed you didn’t have a dorm yet, Carol could barely help herself when she offered her place for you to move in to. You couldn’t agree fast enough.

You started humming to the song, looking out the window as Carol drove, she smiled softly at you and rested one hand on your knee comfortably, you glanced at her, seeing her soft smile before turning back to the window, trying not to pay attention to how warm her hand was.

When your favorite part of the song you had to sing to it, trying your best to ignore Carol’s thumb stroking your knee and facing her while belting out the lyrics to the song.

‘You’re looking good to me tonight.’ You sang practically into Carol’s ear, she laughed and continued singing the rest of the song with you, sighing when she had to get out of the car to go inside.

“I don’t think you wanted to come to this party either.” You commented, opening the door yourself as Carol got out, she shrugged and started walking inside, you followed her, moving closer when you heard someone throw up to the left of you.

“Well this should be fun.” Carol hoped, you raised an eyebrow and turned to face her.

“I miss my bed already.” You whined, Carol laughed and threw an arm around your shoulders, you shuffled towards her a little more when you saw she was going to open the door.

“I think you mean our bed.” She whispered in your ear, treasuring your shiver at feeling her breath on your ear before walking in, the smell of alcohol and sweat invaded your senses, you wrinkled your nose as Carol pulled you inside, heading towards your shared group of friends.

“I see you brought a date Carol.” Natasha winked at her, sipping some blue drink in a red Solo cup.

“We aren’t dating.” You said, the words rolling off your tongue like the past 100 times you’ve said them

“Right, they are married, Nat.” Clint said, throwing an arm over Nat’s shoulders and mocking Carol who rolled her eyes and took a drink, offering you one and taking her arm off your shoulders, still staying close to you.

Another hour or so went by with talking and drinking, you had a few more drinks than you had intended to, the atmosphere of the party getting to you a little. Carol wasn’t nearly drunk enough yet, so she pulled you into the kitchen where it was a bit quieter, both of you leaned back against the counter, Carol scooched towards you when someone puked in the sink she was right next to.

“You two definitely should date.” Tony stated, walking into the kitchen with his arm around Pepper’s waist.

You rolled your eyes and groaned, burying your face in Carol’s neck as she held back a laugh, answering for you as Tony playfully teased you about how you two looked like a married couple. He even offered both of you jobs in his Dad’s company, which honestly you were considering.

“Honestly, you should think about it.” Pepper said, talking with Tony for some time more before disappearing into the rest of the crowd.

“That guy keeps staring at you.” Carol said, trying to play it smooth by reaching behind you to get another drink, pretending she hadn’t just whispered to you.

“I noticed, isn’t he one of your exes?,” You asked, biting your lip a little, trying to ignore Carol invading your personal space, she nodded and turned around.

He had been a genuine asshole, so she’d broken up with him. The only reason she had dated him in the first place was because he had seemed similar to you, he quickly proved her wrong. Dating him would be one of her biggest mistakes, it made you think she was straight.

“I winked at him a while back.” You slurred with a playful grin.

“Well, go dance then.” Carol said stiffly, leaning back against the counter and looking at you with a hard expression, even in your half drunken state you could see she didn’t want you to leave.

“The only person I want to dance with is you.” You said, grinning at her and grabbing her wrist, dragging her to the center of the dance floor as the same song came on.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, it’s about that time’

You’re looking good to me tonight’

You grinned and started dancing with Carol, the alcohol you had before giving you a bit more courage than you usually had. Carol loved it, she danced with you, glaring at a few people who even dared get close to you, the guy who had been staring at you came to the two of you, offering his hand for you to dance with him, you looked up at Carol, saw her jealousy and waved him off.

“You could’ve gone with him.” Carol shouted, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Did I want to leave my best girl?” You asked, then answered your own question. “No.”

Butterflies erupted in both you and Carol’s stomach at the statement, you moved to dance a little closer to her as the dance floor got more crowded. The DJ somehow made the song into a slow dance song, but it still sounded amazing. Carol took your hand and twirled you around, your back facing her chest as her arms slid around your waist comfortably.

“I was thinking,” Carol said aloud, mouth right next to your ear so you could practically feel the vibrations from her voice.

“Tony might be right about something for once.” She stated, hesitating at saying it as she swayed slowly with you, you frowned.

“We should work for him?” You asked, sliding your hands to hold Carol’s around your waist, unsure of what to do as you continued swaying with her.

“No,” Carol laughed before continuing, breaking contact to briefly twirl you, smiling at each other before pulling you back in. “I think we should, I mean if you want to we could date.”

“Are you asking me out Danvers?” You asked, smirking and turning around in Carol’s arms, wrapping your hands around her neck, noses touching softly.

“Maybe I am y/l/n.” She smiled nervously, you giggled and nodded, shuffling closer to Carol so you could feel a little warmer.

“Then maybe I will date you, but first,” You pulled away, eyes sleepily opening and closing as you looked up at the blonde. “Take me home?”

“Anything for you y/n/n.” Carol laughed, breaking apart and offering you her arm, which you ignored and instead snuggled into her side, Carol giggled again and started walking you out, waving a last goodbye to the group before leading you into the car.

The car ride home was fairly quiet, you were too drunk to say anything or have any sensible conversation, Carol was too happy and shocked you’d agreed to go out with her. Once you got home, Carol turned to find you asleep, a peaceful smile on your face as your head rested against the window.

She laughed lightly and got out of her seat, moving to your side and opening the door, catching you instantly so you wouldn’t wake up. Carol gently unbuckled the seatbelt and slid one arm under your knees, her forearm touching the skin on the back of your knees was enough to fluster her as she slid another arm underneath your shoulders.

Once you were safe in her arms, she kicked the door closed and locked the car, keys in one hand as her arms carried you into your dorm, thankful she had picked the ground floor dorm. Opening the door was a struggle, but she eventually managed it, opening the door to the dorm.

She carried you onto the shared bed, hoping you would wake up so she wouldn’t have to help you change. She quickly went into her room and changed into a sweatshirt and some sweatpants, realizing the sweatshirt was yours after she had put it on.

When she came back into your shared room she found you sitting cross legged, looking around with tears in your eyes, Carol panicked and instantly moved in front of you, kneeling in front of you and her hands on your knees.

“What’s wrong?” She asked softly, reaching up to move your face so your eyes would meet hers, confusion increasing when your face lit up instantly when you saw her.

“I thought you’d moved out and I was alone.” You answered, grinning at her as she laughed, getting up and kissing the crown of your hair gently.

“You’re not alone y/n.” She said, reaching into the closet and taking out another pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, having no idea who owned it at this point.

“Here.” She handed you the clothes, you squinted at them and then started taking your shirt off, Carol’s eyes widened and she turned away instantly, a blush on her face as she heard you struggle to take it off.

“Carol.” You whined, Carol turned around to find your arm coming out of the neck hole and your head in the sleeve.

“Man you really are a lightweight.” She said, laughing and trying not the stare at the exposed skin and struggling a little to get your shirt on correctly.

“Thank you.” You exclaimed happily, reaching down to take the skirt off, Carol turned around again, this time not hearing you struggle.

After a minute, Carol was about to turn around when you threw yourself at her back, arms quickly wrapping around her waist as your face pressed into the middle of her back.

“Come to bed with me.” You whined into her back.

Carol laughed at your drunken state and took your arms off her, smiling while she moved you so your head was on the pillow. You pouted at her until she moved into her side of the bed, you snuggled into her instantly, resting your head over her chest and wrapping your arm lazily around her waist.

“You’re cuddly when you’re drunk.” Carol commented, trying to ignore the blush on her face while she moved her arm to play with your hair.

“Don’t you dare tell anyone Danvers.” You slurred, eyes sleepily starting to close as Carol chuckled lightly, fingers twirling strands of your hair in her fingers.

“I won’t.” She stated, feeling you snuggle into her more as butterflies erupted in her stomach.

“I love you.” You murmured, seconds away from sleep, Carol’s heart skipped a beat as it always did when you said those words.

“I love you too.” Carol whispered, kissing the top of your head, meaning every word she said. She knew you would forget half of what you two shared in the morning, but Carol would have so much fun teasing you, she looked forward to the date more than anything though, she looked forward to spending the rest of her time with you.

| Part 2 |

A/N: Thoughts?

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @5aftermidnight, @hstoria, @natasha-danvers, @veryfunnyal, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @ophelias-heart , @never-didbefore , @justarandomhumanhere, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn , @lesbian-x-blackwidow , @marvelbbyx , @wlw-imaginesss let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

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