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multisfabulis · 2 years

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Through Loss Comes A Second Chance

Word Count: 4433

TW: Mention of suicide

It has been a hot minute since I last wrote anything, especially for the Kagepro fandom. The last fic I wrote was "Love's Descent into Madness", where its last chapter was posted almost two years ago in December. At least I can say I posted this on the tail-end of August!

So I've had this idea floating around in my brain for a few years now. I can't remember exactly what brought this on but I do know I hadn't seen much of anything for Momo and Ene and I wanted to rectify that. I just chose to kill Shintaro off since I feel like that would've been the most likely scenario for how these two would've come together and become friends. I'm becoming yet another pioneer for a dynamic I think the fandom has slept on!

One last thing I want to mention is that this was actually beta'd! I normally don't let others touch my work because I'm kinda a control freak and the very idea of having someone come in and make edits of my work is extremely terrifying but my friend, who is one of the very few people I WOULD trust with this, offered to beat read this and I took them up on it. They ended up doing such a good job, I decided to post it! They deserve credit for this so thank you, rosemaryblues!

Read on AO3 | Read on DeviantArt | Support me on Ko-fi!

Weeks had passed since that day. Just how many, Ene wasn’t sure. Honestly, if it weren’t for the clock in the lower right-hand corner of the desktop screen, she wouldn’t have even known a day had gone by. Time stopped mattering to her the moment her reason for living in this world left her behind.

What point was there in being alive now? The one person that gave her a shred of purpose in life was dead, along with everyone else she knew. What was she supposed to do? Was she to waste away in the confines of his computer until its power supply shut down permanently? Or go back to cyberspace and let the guilt consume her there? She didn’t care either way.

The room felt like it had been frozen in time since his death. His bed was still unmade from when he’d woken up that morning, the piles of trash forever on the floor he never got around to picking up; even his desk had stayed littered with his beloved soda bottles. Ene hadn’t found the strength to put his files back to how they were originally. She was afraid of touching anything in fear she’d accidentally delete it and destroy what little remained of him. They may all have just been code but they were as real to her as the world on the other side of the screen was.

She never imagined a day like this would come. A day in which she’d lose everything she’d worked so hard to regain. She felt so lost without him here. Her whole world practically revolved around him, from talking with him throughout all hours of the day to playing pranks on him in the hopes it’d get his full attention. He was her only source of companionship and now he was gone. Maybe she was just doomed to live alone for the rest of her life.

There was a noise at the door. It was a sound she hadn’t heard in quite a while. Taken aback, she hid automatically behind one of the folders on the desktop screen. There was only one person she knew who would come in here. Her hunch was proven to be correct when a familiar teenage girl walked in.

It was Momo, his little sister. She looked positively awful, and it wasn’t hard to guess why. Her hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed in days, her clothes as if she had slept in them, her eyes with heavy shadows under them. It was heartbreaking seeing her like this, not at all like the perfect idol Ene usually saw plastered across the various corners of the web. Momo crossed the threshold into his room and closed the door behind her, her gaze fixated to the ground.

The two of them were acquaintances at best. Ene had first met Momo weeks into her stay here and they’d occasionally talk here and there. It was shocking to see just how alike the siblings’ were to each other. Yet, unlike her brother, she had been doing far better for herself. Balancing the work she did as an idol while also attending school to the best of her ability was more than any 16 year old girl could reasonably handle but she did it all with a bright, cheerful smile.

But that was before. Her talent agency had put her on a leave of absence once word had reached them, giving her time to mourn and recover from her loss. Ene remembered reading the article about it when it came out and a minuscule seed of relief had bloomed within her. She may have been grieving over him as well but he was Momo's family. She only knew him for a year while Momo grew up with him. There was no telling how badly this was affecting her.

The siblings’ relationship was…complicated, to say the least. Momo could hardly stand to be in the same room as him and he generally kept to himself just about all the time. However, there was no doubting his love for her. He wasn’t very loud or showy with it but Ene knew him well enough to see his own way of expressing it. She wondered if Momo had any idea of it beneath her disdain for him.

Ene watched as Momo slowly made her way towards the bed. Her fingers brushed over the sheets before she decided to sit down on the edge. Her head had been bowed the entire time, seeming to have not noticed Ene’s presence. She had to strain her ears to hear what Momo muttered under her breath:

“What am I doing here?”

She was taking this hard. Losing a relative was never easy but this was her second time now losing someone close to her. Ene didn’t know much about their family history but she knew the siblings’ father died several years ago while visiting the beach with Momo. Their mother had also ended up in the hospital after nearly overworking herself to death to care for her two children. Such things is why Momo decided to try and bring in an income herself. Oh god, had she been trying to handle this all by herself?

Momo rose from the bed. She walked towards the nearest bookcase where his books and manga sat. Her hand skimmed over the spines of each one on the shelf closest to her before she plucked a thin, paperback novel out from it. She flipped through the pages, sighed, and put it back in its place, repeating this process with several other books.

Ene slowly approached the front of the screen, her activity bringing the computer out of its weeks-long sleep. It lit up the room where it was facing and it caught Momo’s attention. She turned to greet her. “Oh, Ene-chan. I forgot you were here.”

Her voice sounded weak, fragile to the point where she seemed to be only one second away from falling apart. That listless demeanor of hers didn’t suit her at all. It was too familiar to her brother’s and it made Ene worry.

What was she to say here? She knew Momo wasn’t okay and she had just as much right to be in his room as she did, maybe even more so. Dumbfounded, she decided to ask, “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Could you--” her voice cracked, prompting her to clear her throat-- “could you…tell me what he was like?”

“Huh?" Ene was a little taken aback.

“What was my brother like? I figured, since you spent more time with him than anyone else did, I might’ve…” she paused, her head turned back to face the bookcase, “gotten to learn about him.”

So that was it. The siblings’ relationship was complicated on both sides, that much she understood, but was it really that strained? Sure, they argued and fought with each other like most siblings did but was that all they did? If so, then it was no wonder why Momo was asking this of her. In her eyes, a virtual stranger like Ene had seen more of her brother in a year than his own sister had throughout their whole lives together. It was enough for Ene to pity her.

If telling her about him was what she wished, then Ene would oblige. “Master was…a stubborn man. It was always his way or the highway on most things and it’d take forever for him to see things from my perspective. He also never listened to me, it was in one ear and out the other. Whenever I’d ask him to clean up around here or eat something that wasn’t junk food, he’d either brush it off or get mad at me! Me, someone who was just looking out for him when he couldn’t do it himself!”

That earned a snort from Momo. “That sounds about right. If even you couldn’t get through to him, no one could.”

“I felt more like his mother than his servant at times.” She let out a heavy sigh, despite the smile growing across her face. “I know waking him up wasn’t what I signed up for but him sleeping in till noon was unacceptable! That’s why I’d turn the volume up and scare the crap out of him on some mornings!”

“That’s what that noise was?!” There was more emotion to her voice now. “I just thought he forgot he wasn’t the only one living here…”

“Yeah, it was so funny watching him jump out of the bed and beg me to turn it off,” she answered through fits of giggles. “And he was never grateful for it! Trying to get a thank you from him was like pulling teeth!”

Momo burst into laughter after that. It felt good to see her smile again, especially since she looked like a zombie when she crossed through the door. Ene was happy she was able to bring some comfort to her. Sharing the memories she had of him lessened the weight on her shoulders and kept the pain of missing him at bay. It was a nice respite from the heavy toll the past few weeks took on her.

Then Momo fell quiet. Maybe she thought it was inappropriate to be even a little joyful so soon after his death, or her grief became too much for her to hold back any longer. Whatever the case may be, her shoulders drooped as she went to pick out another book. A few moments of silence passed before she spoke, breaking the lull in their conversation.

“Ene-chan…do you know why my brother became a shut-in two years ago?”

The question blindsided her. Of course she knew why he spent every waking hour in this tiny room. His guilt in how he treated Ayano before her suicide was the main contributing factor, though Ene supposed her and Haruka’s deaths didn’t help matters either. It was through her showing up when she did that delayed what might’ve been his inevitable end. There were too many things she couldn’t tell Momo about, if only because there was no easy way of explaining it.

Their story was too interconnected. It was too full of pain, sorrow, and regret and Ene had no desire to talk about it. She could lie to her but Momo deserved to know the truth. Or something resembling it at least. She settled on the omission of certain facts, ambiguities that would serve their purpose well enough.

“Master was very…troubled.” She clasped her hands. “A lot went on in his head, things I can’t say I was ever privy to. There were times he’d say or do something that set alarm bells off in me but I’d just brush it aside and try to help him in the best way I knew how.” Yet it wasn’t enough. “I can’t speak as to why he shut himself up in here but I’m sure he must’ve had a good reason to not tell you why.”

Momo’s body stiffened as she whispered, “I see.”

Ene could tell she was gutted by her answer. The past two years had to be both hard and frustrating for her as his sister. There was no doubt she loved her brother but his general apathy and their similar personalities had made communication between each other difficult. Momo must’ve been so desperate to help him out in any way she could, she just didn’t know how. Why did he have to leave her alone to clean up his mess? Ene thought bitterly.

“It’s just like him,” Momo muttered derisively. It was a tone Ene heard him use against her all the time but never from Momo. It was at that point she turned around to face her, holding a thick, heavy-looking book in her hands. She began walking towards her, saying, “It’s just like my brother to not tell me anything. After all, it’s not like he ever cared about me.” Momo’s eyes had tears threatening to spill over at any moment. “He probably thought I would just make things worse.”

“That’s not it, he---”

“So then why?!” She suddenly threw the book across the other side of the room. It hit the wall and landed on the floor. “Why did he have to go and do this?! Did-did he ever stop and think about what would happen if he did this?! What about me, what about mom?! It was bad enough losing dad and now he’s gone too? Didn’t he know that…” Her voice cracked as tears rolled down her cheeks. “-that I would’ve helped him? He may have been weird and creepy and gross but…he was still my brother, so I…” Sobs wracked Momo’s body as she hugged herself tight.

“I can’t claim to know what went through Master’s head when he…” Ene paused. A small flash of sorrow pierced her heart. She swallowed it with a heavy breath. “But what I can tell you is that he may not have wanted to burden you with his problems.”

Sniffling, Momo wiped away her tears as she asked, “B-burden me?”

“You already had school and idol work to deal with y'know? So he probably didn’t want you stressing yourself out even more by worrying about him.” Another sadder possibility crossed her mind. “Maybe…maybe he thought you’d be better off without him.”

“I…” She sniffled again, taking a step forward. “I don’t know what to believe. He just never showed any sign of caring about me and---”

“He did, I can attest to that.” Ene flitted over to a folder in the upper left-hand corner and peeked into it. “Here, I’ll show you.”

She threw several files out across the screen, some of which were images and videos he downloaded off the Internet while others were of MP3s he had bought. Whether it was promotional material, clips of her concerts, or songs she released on streaming platforms, he archived everything he could of Momo. This was the one folder Ene had never touched because she knew how important it was to him. She was an only child in her past life, so she was almost envious of the other girl for having an older brother who was so supportive of her.

Approaching the desk, Momo’s eyes flickered over all the windows popping up and asked, “Are these…of me?”

“He may not have expressed it but Master loved you very much,” Ene replied, tucking herself into the corner so as to not block anything. “He listened to and shared your music whenever a new song would come out, read every article you were in, and watched clips of your concerts from fans who’d record your performances and post them up on social media.”

“Why…didn’t he ever mention this?” She pulled the chair away from his desk and sat down in it. “Why did he keep this secret?”

“I don’t know. But he never stopped supporting you, even when things got…too difficult for him.” She floated as close to the screen as possible, keeping her face hidden from view. “Don’t ever doubt how much he cared about you. Please, for his sake.”

Rolling up to the desk, Momo took hold of the mouse. She clicked on one of the many windows displayed; a picture of her striking a pose she had done on the cover of a magazine. She closed it and clicked on another; a clip of a recent concert she had done. The corners of her mouth curved up slightly as she watched herself trip and face-plant in front of hundreds of people live on stage. Ene observed this all in rapt silence.

Fresh tears slid down her face as a pained smile stretched across her face, saying, “God, it’s just like him to keep track of me like a weirdo…”

This was only a glimpse into what their dynamic was like during the rare times they interacted with each other and she was sure Momo missed those days. She must’ve wanted that sense of normalcy back so she wouldn’t face the reality of his death. Ene knew what that was like all too well.

“Is it weird to miss him if I didn’t know him that well?” Momo asked as she wiped away her tears with her arm. “Sometimes I wonder…if I just reached out to him, if I said something to him, would he still be here?”

“You couldn’t have known.” Ene wished she could pass through the screen at that moment. “It’s no use thinking about what you could’ve done differently.”

“But if I had just tried harder, if I had just pushed him to tell me…” She hung her head as she stifled a sob. “What kind of sister am I?! He supported me all this time and yet I couldn’t do the same for him! It’s my fault, it’s---”

“Momo!” She hadn’t meant to shout but it was the first thing that leapt into her head. The other girl snapped to attention. “It’s not your fault. If anything, it’s mine because I’m the one he talked the most with, he spent time with. If I hadn’t pulled that stupid prank, if I had just come back sooner, he’d…”

It was then she noticed it. It started off with one or two droplets before the dam burst and she was suddenly crying. She dropped to her knees, covering her face with her hands as her chest constricted in agonizing pain. He wasn’t coming back, she knew that. But did she really? No longer would he be upset at her for playing her practical jokes on him, pleading with her to not post his embarrassing pictures online. He was gone and it was all her fault.

She couldn’t save anyone. Not Haruka, not Shintaro, not even her own damn self when it mattered the most. They were all dead and nothing was ever going to change that fact. What was she to do now? The only person left that seemed to care for her was gone because she wasn’t able to get through to him. The sin of his death weighed down on her like a rock as she sank further and further into---

“Ene-chan!” Momo’s voice broke her out of her downward spiral. Ene looked up to see her face super close to the screen. “It wasn’t your fault! It’s like you said, we couldn’t have known so please…” She lowered her head, tears falling onto the desk. “Please don’t blame yourself for what happened. I…I forgive you!”

Momo, someone who had all the right in the world to blame her for her brother’s suicide, forgave her? She wasn’t one to say things without meaning them so she had to be for real…right?

Wiping her face with her sleeve, she said, “I don’t know what I did to deserve such a thing but…thank you.” Then she smiled as the realization hit her. “I bet Master would’ve loved having two girls cry over him like the creep he was.”

“Oh god…” There was some semblance of a laugh in her voice at the joke. “He would, wouldn’t he?”

They spent the next few minutes in near silence. Ene gave Momo some privacy to recompose herself but couldn’t help glancing her way every so often. She had a feeling she’d be okay after this. Even if it took time still, there would come a day where the guilt of living would subside and she’d be happy again. Ene believed that was what Shintaro would’ve wanted for her to.

“Hey, Ene-chan?” Momo called out. “What are you planning to do now that my brother’s gone?”

That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? She didn’t dare tell Momo about what she thought of doing before she had entered the room. It wouldn’t be right worrying her over such depressing things. She did, however, know she did NOT want to go back to cyberspace again. She already spent one year in that goddamn lonely place.

“I don’t know,” Ene replied, looking down at her hands to avoid Momo’s gaze. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Maybe…” A pause, then an exhale. “Maybe this is the chance for you to live your own life from now on.” This made Ene lift her head. “I mean, you spent a lot of time with my brother, right? So I was thinking this might be a good opportunity for you to do that since you don’t have anyone to look out for anymore.”

She had a point. It wasn’t like her days with Shintaro weren’t some of the most fun and happiest she had since becoming Ene. Many of the skills she learned were for the purposes of fucking with him so she didn’t know how useful they’d be outside that periphery. Not to mention the lack of a physical body limited her options as well.

“I was also thinking…” Momo’s voice broke through her reverie. “Well, I know it’s selfish of me to ask this but…would you be okay with staying here for a little while longer? With me, maybe?” Ene was taken aback by her proposition. Then the other girl grew flustered, clarifying, “Only if you want to, though! I didn’t wanna make it seem like I was kicking you out or anything, that’s why I was asking and it’s fine if you don’t, I just---”

“Yes! I’ll--” she cut in before Momo lost her mind-- “I’ll stay.”

A moment passed for her answer to sink in and she said with a smile, “Thank you, Ene-chan. I think if we stick together, we can help each other out so…let’s become good friends, okay?”

For the first time since that day, she felt hopeful for the future.

After traversing through what seemed like rows upon rows of graves, they finally arrived at their destination. It had taken them a while to figure out where it could have been, not helped by Momo’s terrible sense of direction. It was when they were deep inside the cemetery Ene was able to read the familiar characters inscribed on the stone monument to realize they had found it. So there, standing just before them, laid the final resting place of Shintaro Kisaragi.

Months had passed since his death and the two girls were still adjusting to a life without him in it. However, the burden that had been weighing heavily on them since then had lessened somewhat. The pain was easier to manage now. Ene was taking steps to venture outside of his PC with every new day while Momo had gone back to work better than ever before. Most of all, their relationship had blossomed beautifully to the point where they considered each other to be best friends.

Today was special. They both felt emotionally secure enough to come here, which was saying a lot after those initial few weeks. They wanted to let him know, wherever he was, how they were doing and what their plans for the future were. The most important thing they wished to convey, though, was that he needn’t worry over them. They had each other to lean on now so they were going to be okay. They were going to live out their lives and meet him again when it was their time to go, he just had to be patient until then.

Momo placed her phone, which held Ene, down beside the grave. Then she set the two incense sticks in the holder, lit them up, and clapped her hands together. Ene did the same, closing her eyes as they paid their respects. Luckily, they brought enough supplies with them for the next two graves they were planning to visit after they finished their business at Shintaro’s. It was only fair for Momo to meet Haruka and Ayano as well.

She told her about them a month or so ago. There were some details she left out, mainly regarding her actual connection to Shintaro and his ties with their former friend group, but everything else was the complete and utter truth. There may come a day where she’d reveal everything, but this was fine for now.

Once they were done, Momo proceeded to tell him about everything she had been up to lately. The staff assigned to her had been understanding of the way her loss affected her and her fans sent lots of love to her during her hiatus. It’s because of their kindness that it made her want to try even harder to repay all of them for all the support they’d given her throughout her absence. She was still having a hard time in school but she was proud to admit her test scores had improved somewhat, going from single digits to doubles. Of course there was also mention of her and Ene having grown closer, which she imagined Shintaro was despairing over.

“I also wanted to say that--” Momo’s expression turned serious-- “even though we never really talked, we just argued all the time…I never hated you. I know I said I did a lot but I never meant it.” She took a deep breath in, then out as she calmed herself. “At the end of the day, you’re still my brother and…I love you.”

Then it was Ene’s turn. She followed the same routine as Momo’s, albeit with some careful wording so as to not throw suspicion onto herself. She still messed with his files here and there and she kept the cheek he got aggravated with on a daily basis. Nothing between them had to change that much after his death. However, there was one thing she wanted to say, without any jokes or backhanded remarks.

“In all seriousness, I know I teased you a lot back then but I hope you know that that was my way of showing how I cared about you.” Her eyes wandered down to the bottom of the grave. “The year I spent with you was some of the most fun I ever had. It had its ups and downs but I don’t regret meeting you, not one bit.” Then she looked up with a firm resolve and hoped that what she said next would reach him. “Thank you for being my best friend.”

With that, they bid farewell to him. It was never easy moving on but Ene already did it once, and she’d do it again. She had no idea what the future had in store for her and Momo. What she did know was that they would face it together, with their heads held high and his memory in their hearts.

#airi's writing #Ene #Kisaragi Momo #Fanfiction #Kagerou Project #suicide mention

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thispabulum-blog · 2 years

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Monday's Child is Fair of Face

Post-Mortem Monday

I want to talk a little bit today, so as to maximize the therapeutic potential of Post-Mortem Mondays, about the signs that my relationship with Dr. Strangelove was struggling.

Some big, some small, some that I was aware of, and some that I only really thought about after the fact.

It took entirely too long for me to realize I was afraid of him. Not just physically, but emotionally. So much of my life was spent trying to mitigate negative reactions from him that I wasn't being myself anymore. There was me when I was alone, and me when I was with him, pushing the things I really liked into a little corner of myself. I should have caught onto this sooner, but I was in denial.

I frequently voiced my frustrations with him to other people, because I wasn't able to talk about them directly with him. I have folders and notes full of drafts of letters to advice columns or Reddit posts from times when things were just really awful and I couldn't figure out what to do. Most of them I never sent, and the ones I did were shockingly full of lies and half-truths.

There was no scenario in which I could be completely honest about how bad things were, even to myself. I stopped being able to do tarot readings for myself, because I couldn't face the cards.

I would get really excited whenever he was going to be away - whether that was going to his dad's for the evening to watch a football game, or traveling across the country for a funeral (it happened twice and I was not invited either time). I looked forward to being able to watch whatever I wanted on the big tv, make or order whatever food I wanted, sometimes even have a friend over. It was an event for me.

The week before I moved out, I told him I was going to spend the night with a friend, and instead I got a Lyft and checked myself into a hotel a few miles away. I ordered a bunch of food (fried catfish and tiramisu), hung out with two different friends, stayed up way too late, and just felt the glorious absence of the pressure I was constantly under at home.

This was...uhh...not great. It's how you expect a 14-year-old to react to being home alone when their parents are gone.

Frankly, the whole experience of living with him has put me off on the idea of living with a partner altogether, though there's a part of me that recognizes that it wouldn't be as bad if said partner was a reasonable and responsible human being.

We had a scrapbook that I had made for us as a birthday gift to him one year - full of pictures, mementos, poems, jokes, etc. - and every year I'd update it, and we would sit down and go through the whole thing page-by-page on our anniversary.

Except that we hadn't looked at it last year, and this past year I hadn't even bothered to update it. He didn't get me a gift, or a card, or anything. We didn't go out. I didn't get to get dressed up or feel special.

There was a certain sense that things weren't going to last, which is hard to articulate.

Sometimes I'd be looking through recipes on Pinterest or something, and I'd come across one that looked really good, but that Dr. Strangelove wouldn't have eaten (usually because it had fish or pork or a cream sauce or something), and I'd save it anyway, just in case.

Same for cat things, candles, party ideas, jewelry, really pretty and busy home décor, everything Christmas, wedding dresses, anything that I thought he wouldn't like or approve of.

There was a vague thought of "Oh, well I'll just save that for after," but no real acknowledgement of what exactly after meant.

At times, his effusive expressions of love made me uncomfortable, like when he would write a message in a birthday card telling me that he would love me forever, etc. I don't know if it's because I didn't feel the same way, or because I didn't believe him.

Along the same lines, there were times when I would be reading quotes about love, or poetry, or whatever, to add to the scrapbook, and they would be beautiful but they wouldn't quite sit right. I recognized that it was nice, but didn't describe the relationship that we had.

In the last couple of years I was having an increasing amount of fantasies about moving on with my life, which usually began with him dying. That's how entrenched I was in the relationship; I didn't see any other way out.

I stopped trying. I got tired of doing all the work. I stopped asking if he wanted to have a date night, or go out and do something, or stay in and have a cute indoor date. I resigned myself to the life he was willing to lead, and I knew it was never going to get any better.

Whenever I thought about my plans for the future, I could never really figure out how he'd fit in. He was always either magically absent, or just propped up in the corner like a child in a sitcom.

So yeah. Just things to keep in mind.

#Spotify #dating #men are trash #relationships #breakup

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heliads · 3 years

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Deserve You

Based on this request: “Bucky imagine where you're dating but you're not an avenger, so you sometimes feel not good at all for him even though he loves you more than anything. one time he comes from a mission to you waiting in his room, doubting again but he immediately tries getting this thought out of you and gives you his dog tags to prove he's yours forever and it's all cute then? :)”

masterlist

You open your eyes gradually, the last remnants of sleep being dragged away by the brightness of dawn. You allow yourself one final moment of lingering silence before sitting up with a yawn. A brief spurt of panic flashes across you when you realize that you’re alone in your bed, but then you hear a quiet noise from the kitchen and your pulse begins to settle once more. Bucky must have already gotten up, there’s no need to worry.

You keep having moments like this, where you turn to find yourself alone and keep thinking that this is it, that he’s finally left you. Then you mentally chide yourself for thinking that way- every single one of the Avengers that you’ve met on your trips to the old Stark Tower keeps talking about how Bucky’s head over heels for you, so why would he ghost you out of nowhere? You always smile for a second, thinking about your boyfriend, and then the doubt creeps back in and you glance around to find him. Every single time, without fail, those lurking remnants of doubt always worm back into your mind, and sometimes it feels like there’s nothing you can do to get rid of them.

The only available option is to find Bucky and put your mind at ease by knowing that he’s still here. So, you slide your legs out of the still-warm blankets, grimacing at the shock of the cold air, and pad over to the kitchen. Sure enough, Bucky is holding a mug of some hot beverage, maybe coffee or tea, and staring out the window at the city below him. He does this, sometimes, just watches the city like he could do it for hours. You have a feeling that he’s studying the city for any last lingering resemblance to the New York he’d grown up in, when the most pressing news was World War II and he didn’t see himself in Siberia for anything more than a ski trip, if he could put together enough pennies to afford it. However, life has a way of throwing you for a loop, and all of Bucky’s plans for the future evaporated as soon as he plummeted from the train all those years ago.

Bucky turns when he hears you approach. “Good morning.” You smile, joining him by the window. “Good morning yourself. Are you up early for an assignment or because of a nightmare?” Bucky frowns. “The latter. Did I wake you? I thought I was quiet.” You shake your head. “No, I was asleep the whole time. I just knew because you have that same look on your face after you have your nightmares.” Bucky laughs quietly. “And here I thought I was supposed to be the spy who knew everything. Sure you don’t want a job at S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

You raise your eyebrows. “I’m not sure that paying attention to my boyfriend really qualifies me for FBI: Avengers Edition, but I’ll keep it in mind.” You head over to the fridge, starting to pull out some items for breakfast. Bucky leaves within a few minutes, mumbling something about an early morning meeting, and you head to work yourself soon after. Your own workplace is no Avengers Tower, just a typical office building, and you slide into your seat just in time to start the day.

The morning itself is fairly uneventful, and you’re just starting to think that it’s going to be another boring day as usual when you head off to your lunch break. As you’re waiting in line to use the microwave, you hear a pair of women talking at a table near you. You had no intention of eavesdropping, but although their voices are fairly loud your attention was hooked from the beginning when you realize they’re talking about Bucky. More specifically, they’re talking about Bucky’s girlfriend, or lack thereof.

Ever since you started dating Bucky, he had been careful to keep you out of the public eye. When you work as an Avenger for long enough, you learn to keep everyone important to you out of focus, out of danger. If a HYDRA agent got word of the former Winter Soldier’s girlfriend, you’d be on a train to Siberia with handcuffs and a blindfold within the hour, a ransom request already placed on your head. That’s if they were patient- if not, they would just shoot you to send a message. By making sure nobody heard about you, Bucky could keep you safe.

The downside of this is times like now, when you have to listen to two of your coworkers discussing how strange it is that a man as attractive as James Barnes would still be single. Obviously, you can’t say anything, and you’re not sure that they’d believe you if you tried, but it’s still slightly uncomfortable to hear the conversation swirling around you even as you have to stay silent.

One of the women clicks her tongue in confusion. “I mean, isn’t it weird, though? He’s a friend of Tony Stark, there’s no doubt he’d have a shortage of girls who’d be willing to go out to a bar or something on a weekend.” The other woman laughs. “I bet that surplus of girls includes you, right?” The first woman grins cheekily. “I wouldn’t say no if he asked, but even I don’t have a chance. I mean, he’s an Avenger, and one of the hottest ones there. No one here could hold a candle to him. He saves lives on a daily basis and what do we do, sit around all the time? The only woman I could see him with is an agent or maybe Black Widow. At least then he’d be dating someone who’s his equal.”

The words feel like shards of ice threading through your heart, and you turn to go back to your desk, hunger suddenly forgotten. As you stare at your work, though, you find you can’t concentrate. You keep hearing what the women had said, that no one in this miserable office could be worthy of dating the famous Avenger Bucky Barnes. They’re right, aren’t they? Bucky was saving lives all the time while you complained and acted so needy. You sigh to yourself, feeling your spirits dampen by the second. Why did Bucky see in you anyway?

Bucky’s shoulders feel like they’ve been carved from stone. He’s been tense for so long that he’s certain he’ll never be able to move again. Today is the day that he has to begin reviewing case files from his time as a Winter Soldier. He’ll have to come face to face with photo and video evidence of all the wrongs he’s done, of all the killings and blood shed by his own damaged hands. He’s been trying to avoid it for a while, but S.H.I.E.L.D. needs his input on all of the past Winter Soldier missions in order to proceed with the ongoing investigations into the last HYDRA strongholds. Bucky has no choice but to confront his past, he knows that, but it doesn’t make his job any easier.

It’s not like he’s alone, though. Natasha is here, because her experience with the Red Room could prove useful with putting together some pieces of the HYDRA-Siberia-Soviet puzzle that’s been plaguing them for some time now. Steve is also here, one door down, looking at his old medical files that detail exactly how some brilliant scientists turned a scrawny kid with a death wish when it came to standing up to bullies into the strongest man of the century.

Bucky clenches his jaw, and turns back to the manila file folder in his hand. He flips it open, taking out the diagrams and security camera stills and laying them out onto the table before him as he reads. He’s flipping through the rest of the contents of the folder when he pauses, staring at the images awaiting his acknowledgement. Natasha sees him freeze slightly and glances over to see what’s troubling him. Her brow dips in understanding.

Lying before him are photo after photo of death and destruction. Bucky remembers this day now, after it was buried so long under HYDRA mind wipes and his own crippling want to forget. The bodies of the dead line a small street, buildings reduced to rubble. He can see the dead, so many of them. There aren’t just the few military commanders he was sent to exterminate- no, HYDRA wants no witnesses and so Bucky had killed everyone in sight. There are children in pools of blood, their mothers reaching over them as if to shield them from the inevitable bullets coming their way. He tells himself that their deaths were quick, efficient, maybe even painless, but it is not enough. There is no way to justify this amount of bloodshed.

Natasha puts her hand on his shoulder. The gesture, meant to bring comfort, startles him and it takes all of Bucky’s self-control to not flinch. Bucky swallows hard. “I did all of this. I killed every one of them.” Natasha’s voice is low and quiet. “It wasn’t you. You had no choice in any of this.” Bucky laughs, thought it is heavy with horror and breaks in upon itself. “It’s easier to say that, but it was still my hand pulling the trigger.” He leans back against the wall, trying to steady himself.

“How were you and Steve able to convince anyone to trust me? Why did you even want to save me in the first place?” Natasha stares at the photos, taking in the broken bodies of the dead. “Steve knew the real you, the one who’s standing here right now and would never attempt this sort of carnage. I knew what it was like to lose all control and feel like your hands would always be stained with blood. Second chances are more powerful than you might think.”

Bucky shakes his head slowly. “I don’t deserve that chance. I don’t deserve any of this.” He closes his eyes for just a second as if by blocking out the world he can block out the memory of the methodical shudder of the rifle in his hands, the recoil as he fired again and again. “I don’t deserve Y/N. She-” Natasha cuts him off smoothly. “Y/N knows what you’ve been through, and she knows that you are not that same man. I’ve spoken with her before, and she knows the full extent of what you did.”

Bucky’s eyes cut back to the photographs. “Then why does she stay?” Natasha’s gaze feels like a leaden weight, unflinching and unyielding. “She stays because she loves you. She stays because she knows that the real Bucky Barnes is a hero, someone who is willing and able to move on from their past. Y/N is one of the most important parts of your life, not because she’s a good kisser but because she’s one of the only people who can see straight through you and know that you’re a good man.”

Bucky nods. “I don’t need you to tell me twice.” Natasha’s right, though, and even the barest mention of Y/N brings back a wave of good memories to fight against the bad. She’s like an anchor, someone holding him in place even when all of the darkness he’s had to endure threatens to pull him under. It astonishes him sometimes that he still wakes up beside her every morning. She’s so perfect, so wonderful. What does Y/N see in him anyway that would make him so lucky to have her with him?

You’re in a despondent mood for the rest of the day. You slump home, not even bothering to turn on the lights but discarding your coat and bag in the dark of the room. The faint light still shining through the windows is all you’ll need. You stare unthinkingly at the apartment for a while, then head to your bedroom. As you catch sight of yourself in the mirror, you stop with a sigh, leaning your hands against the dresser underneath.

You stare at yourself, at the dark circles under your eyes. Who are you, anyway? Who are you to think that you would ever be good enough for an Avenger? At this point, it’s only a matter of days before he breaks up with you. No wonder he keeps waking up before you- he’s trying to leave without seeing you that often, as a way to lessen the blow of the eventual goodbye.

The problem about gloomy thoughts is that they tend to wrap around you, pulling you away from everything else. You’re so distracted that you don’t hear the front door open, and you don’t notice Bucky enter the apartment until he knocks softly on the wall of your bedroom as he stands in the open door. You turn around with a flash, plastering on a smile, but your reaction is too late and his brow furrows. “Are you alright?”

You try for a smile, reaching out to kiss him in greeting. “Of course I am. How was your day?” Bucky is not to be deterred. “I saw your face, Y/N. You looked really upset. Is everything okay?” Maybe it’s that velvet tone of his, or the concern laced in his eyes, but your few fragile defenses break down. You turn to him, fighting back tears. “Why are you still with me?” Bucky frowns. “What?” You hold your hands up uselessly. “You’re an Avenger and you’re out there saving lives all the time. Why would you ever be interested in some girl from the city? I’m not half the person you are.”

Bucky stares at you for a second, then wraps his arms around you, drawing you close. “Y/N, love, why would you ever think that?” You look away. “Because it’s true. You should be dating some other superhero of a woman who could be your equal.” Bucky’s frown tinges slightly with anger. “Did you hear about this on some news show? I told that one news outlet that if they said a single thing about me I’d shut them down, and I’ll do it-” You cut him off. “It’s not like that. It’s just- You’re an Avenger, Bucky, and you deserve someone equally as brave as you are.”

Bucky guides you gently over to the bed, and the two of you sit down on the edge. He pulls you into his arms. “I don’t want some superhero. I want you. Y/N, I love you because you’re the only one here who sees me for who I really am, not just some soulless Avenger but a faulty person. Honestly, if anything I’m surprised that you’d still stay with me.” Your tears dry up as you stare at him. “What?” A quiet smile spreads across Bucky’s lips. “Every single day, I come home and you make a difficult day a thousand times better. You know me better than I know myself, and even despite everything I’ve done and the monster I’ve been, you still make me feel like a good man again. You’re one of the kindest souls I’ve ever met, Y/N, and you deserve someone equally as good as you are.”

You shake your head slowly. “That’s not the same. Anyone can be nice.” Bucky cups your cheek in his hand. “Nobody else knows that I always get up in the mornings and pace around because of the nightmares. Nobody else knows that I always stare down the alleyways on the walk home because I keep thinking I’ll see Steve in there getting beat up, or help me pick out jackets based on how easy it will be to remove the left sleeve. You’re the only one for me, doll, and I wouldn’t trade you for a heartbeat.”

He reaches into a pocket. “Here, I’ll prove it.” He takes out something silvery, like stamped metal. With a jolt, you realize they’re his dog tags, the ones he had from fighting in World War II all those years ago. He gestures for you to turn around and you do, feeling the weight of the metal around your throat as he fastens them. When you look back at him, he’s smiling. “See? You can’t get rid of me, love. Not in a million years.”

You smile, running your fingers over the faded lettering. “Won’t you want them? You know, as a memory of your old life?” Bucky shakes his head, a content expression lingering in his eyes. “I don’t need them to remember. I’ve got you, and you’re the only home I’ll ever need.” When he kisses you again, you can feel the dog tags right over your heart, like a promise that he’ll always be with you, no matter what.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #winter soldier imagines #winter soldier x reader #avengers #avengers imagines #avengers x reader #tfatws #tfatws imagines #tfatws x reader #catws #catws imagines

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bvckys-doll · 3 years

Text

Let me take care of you

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: Bucky broke up with (Y/N) a month ago and she still doesn’t know why. When she decides to visit the HQ for the first time after their break up to get the rest of her stuff, the whole team is out on a mission. (Y/N) is not prepared to meet her ex soon after her arrival. Heavily injured.

Warnings: bloody wound. (Y/N) needs to stitch him up. Blood, duh. Angsty fic with a happy ending!

Author’s note: This one-shot sat in my Bucky folder for too long so now I finally got the chance to post it. Italics is the past. I hope you like it and might leave a comment in the reply section! PLEASE! Take care of yourself, stay safe and healthy! Cosplay the Winter Soldier and PUT ON A FCKING MASK!

You can find my main masterlist here!

It was a strange feeling to walk through the hallways of the headquarters without being able to call it her home. Bucky and (Y/N) had broken off their relationship a month ago and it was still hard to process everything. Normally she wouldn’t be so tense and would walk down the hallway without a bad feeling, but the bad feeling was omnipresent.

After more than a year of their relationship, it was Bucky’s decision to end it. It had happened out of the blue, but he thought it was for the best, as the missions were getting harder and harder each time and Barnes knew that (Y/N) was worried sick.

He had often come home in the evening and found her still awake on the couch. She could not sleep if she knew that the rest of the team was on a risky mission that she could not or was not allowed to participate in.

Bucky loved (Y/N). He still knew that. Yet he had never said it out loud. Bucky knew after the first three months of their relationship that he loved her, but he was too much of a coward to tell (Y/N) the truth. What if she turned him down? What if she thought they were moving to fast? So, Bucky kept it that way and tried to show her his affection in different ways.

But in the end, the former Winter Soldier knew he could no longer keep it from her. So, James chose the simplest method: to let her go. Of course, he knew from the start that (Y/N) wouldn’t just leave. After a year of dating, she wouldn’t just leave if Bucky told her to. She would ask questions, probably cry, and beg him to try again. There was only one option: he would have to break her heart.

With a broad smile on her lips, (Y/N) opened the door to her room, while trying not to drop the plate of the fresh cookies she had baked and brought with her.

“Baby, you’re not gonna believe what Sam just said. ” (Y/N) chuckled and put the plate on the coffee table next to the couch when Bucky came out of the bathroom. Before she could speak up again, she paused, and her eyes widened. His eyes were swollen and red. He must have cried. A lot.

“James, what’s going on?” (Y/N) approached him and put her hands on his cheeks. Meanwhile Bucky was clenching his hands in fists to prevent himself from pulling (Y/N) close. The next words that passed his lips would not only break her heart, but also him.

“I want you to go.”

“W-what? I don’t understand. Shall I go down to the living room and leave you alone?” (Y/N) tried to make sense of his words. Another tear ran down Bucky’s cheek. Immediately she wiped it away and watched him anxiously. Slowly, he grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands from his face, whereupon (Y/N) looked at him completely disillusioned.

“I can’t be with you anymore. We are too different” James replied and stepped past her as (Y/N) froze at her place. She couldn’t quite believe what he had just said. Before she could say another word, he continued and pulled the final straw “I don’t love you…and I never loved you. This...was all just a pastime for me to feel a little better after everything that’s happened to me.”

Her back was still turned to him as Bucky saw how (Y/N) now clenched her hands into fists as well and a sob escaped her lips. How he would have loved to take her in his arms. Tell her it was all a lie to protect her. But he didn't. He stood firm and left it at that.

Without another word, (Y/N) turned on her heel and left their shared bedroom, pulling the door shut behind her with a loud bang.

Since the confrontation, they hadn't seen each other or exchanged another word. Natasha had packed a few things and left with (Y/N) only a few hours later after the incident. Natasha hadn't spoken a word to him since that day either.

Meanwhile, (Y/N) had been staying in a hotel for the past four weeks because she couldn’t find a new apartment so quickly. In New York it is never easy to find a good apartment and most of them are incredibly expensive. Despite (Y/N)’s constant reluctance, Tony insisted on paying for her accommodation at the hotel because she was one of his best employees.

Most of the time she worked from her hotel room, which Tony fortunately allowed her to do. Still, (Y/N) knew it couldn’t go on like this forever. Sooner or later, she’d see Bucky and the pain would come back.

According to the team’s entries in the system, everyone was on a mission near Rio de Janeiro. No one had told her why and for how long, but she knew they were not back yet. At least, that is what (Y/N) thought.

Since she still had some clothes and other stuff in their old, shared room, (Y/N) wanted to get them before the rest of the team started running around the headquarters again. So, with a moving box under her arm, she made her way to the room where she entered the usual code.

Beep!

Pushing the door open with her hip, (Y/N) groped for the light switch with her free hand. Briefly, (Y/N) squinted her eyes as the bright light illuminated the room. Why did Bucky always leave the curtains closed when he was away?

With a glance around the room, her question was answered.

The room has been left in a great mess. His shirts, shoes and sweatpants were scattered on the floor and his bed looked as if he had just got up. The cushions were either at the foot of the bed or in another corner of the room.

One of the signs for his nightmares. Things that (Y/N) wouldn’t have to deal with anymore.

Murmuring, she made room on his desk and set the box down. The first mission: the wardrobe. One of the doors was already open and one of Bucky’s knives laid on the floor. She opened the other door as well and pulled her clothes and blouses off the hangers before carefully packing them into the box.

Now it came to the sweaters.

To be honest, she sometimes didn’t even remember which ones belonged to her and which ones to Bucky, since she had usually put his shirts on instead of her own.

While (Y/N) was busy with her other t-shirts, Bucky’s red Henley shirt fell into her arms. Sighing, she held the thin, dark red material in her hands and looked at the thin seam. She probably had to mend the shirt five times already.

Suddenly the door of the room opened, and (Y/N) turned around in shock when she saw Bucky standing in the door frame. For a short moment none of them moved and they just stared at each other. (Y/N) was still holding his shirt in her hand before she quickly threw it behind her on the bed.

“What are you doing here?” they asked at the same time before Bucky raised an eyebrow and added a bit abruptly, “I live here. What’s your excuse?”

“I’m just going to get the rest of my stuff. I’ll be gone before you can count to three”, she snorted at his tone “Actually, I was hoping that- …you’re bleeding.”

(Y/N)’s gaze went to his hand, which seemed to squeeze a wound. Not successful, however, because the blood swelled through his fingers. Bucky briefly looked down at himself, pressing his hand further into his side, and gritting his teeth briefly “No shit, Sherlock.”

“Do you think now is the right time to make jokes, Barnes?” (Y/N) growled in a serious tone as Bucky pushed past her towards the bathroom. He got out of his jacket and closed his eyes while gritting his teeth. In the bright light of the ceiling lamp, (Y/N) could see the blood in his hair and the slight scratches on his face. Apparently, it had been a pretty rough mission.

“Why didn’t you go straight to Helen with an injury like that?” (Y/N) watched him throw his leather jacket into the bathtub and then leaned on the edge of the sink. Before James was about to lose consciousness, (Y/N) quickly came up to him and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, while his other hand was still pressing on the wound. He had already lost a lot of blood.

With the last strength James had left in his legs, he made it to his bed with (Y/N)’s help, where he laid down and squeezed his eyes in pain. (Y/N) quickly ran into the bathroom and dug the first aid kit out of the drawer before sitting on the edge of the bed next to Bucky, who was breathing slowly.

“You don’t need to help me” his voice was raspy as his eyelids slowly dropped.

“Hey, you’re staying with me” (Y/N) patted his cheek “Where are the others?”

(Y/N) took the scissors out of the box and used them to cut his shirt open so she could get a better view of his wound. His voice was still raspy as he replied, "There were too many. They surprised us and we weren't prepared for it. Some bastard caught me pushing Steve out of the way. What's he got that stupid shield for if it doesn't even help?"

"Is the bullet still in there?", (Y/N) asked him as she pressed a couple of compresses into his hand so he could use them to stop the bleeding, which was slowly but surely receding. Relieved, (Y/N) slumped her shoulders as he shook his head before replying, "Helen wasn't there and I didn't feel like looking for anyone else. I don't necessarily trust the others. Clint flew me in quickly and then flew right back. I told him the wound was already closing up."

“This lie could have killed you, you know that, right? If I hadn’t been here, you would have collapsed in the bathroom and probably died of blood loss.” (Y/N) answered as she tried to get the thread through the head of the needle, which was not as easy as she thought. Probably it was also because her hands were shaking, which Bucky noticed when he watched (Y/N) “I would have made it somehow.”

But the way (Y/N) looked down at him was enough for him to shut up. Knowing it was a straight lie. And he had to admit that he wouldn’t have cared if it had happened like that. (Y/N) was gone. He had lost her, and that was all his fault.

Attentively James watched her as she prepared everything and checked again and again if the wound was still bleeding heavily. After it had slowly but surely subsided, (Y/N) removed the compress from his stomach and glanced at the gaping wound. Sighing, she took the disinfectant and dripped some onto a cloth before looking at James, who understood immediately before he said “I'm used to the pain, you know that. Don't worry about it. "

“You don't need to play hero here, James. I know how much that it hurts.” (Y/N) muttered, holding the cloth tightly before pressing it to the wound. Briefly, Bucky's chest heaved, and he growled in pain, breaking (Y/N)'s heart in the process, before she finally managed to take the cloth down and throw it away.

Quickly she took some of the numbing gel and smeared it around the wound before looking to Bucky, “I'm stitching it up now as best as I can. I'll have Helen look at it as soon as she gets back.”

Without another word from Bucky, (Y/N) began stitching up his wound. She was still shaking a little, but slowly it was getting better. Finally, she bandaged the wound with a compress and took care of the small scratches on his cheek.

They hadn't been this close in a long time. (Y/N) didn't even notice how she held her breath as she ran the disinfectant over the wounds. Bucky gritted his teeth again for a moment, but his gaze didn't avert from her.

Calmly, she stuck a band-aid over the wound and gave it another quick brush with her thumb as it blurted out of Bucky, "I lied."

Bucky watched her reaction carefully as she removed her hand from his cheek and held his gaze. His gaze wandered to the ceiling, kneading his hands nervously. He added, "When I said you were just a pastime and I didn't love you, I lied. That's not true. "

"Then why do you say such a thing?", (Y/N) asked him in a calm voice that didn't show if she was amazed, sad, or angry. Bucky himself was afraid of any of these reactions.

Desperately, he tried to find the right words "I was worried about you. This life with me could break you. You haven’t slept for weeks because of me. Because you're always so worried about me and while doing so, you forget to take care of you. When I…come back from missions, you're still awake because you want to know that I got home safely. You…you're too good for me and I don't want to destroy you like I've already destroyed everything else around me. I got you-. "

"You've already destroyed me, James. ", (Y/N) interrupted, looking at him with glazed eyes. This was exactly what he tried to avoid. He never wanted to be the reason why she felt bad, but now his worst fear had come true.

"You successfully broke my heart when you told me I was nothing more than a silly pastime you're done with now. I thought that you…I thought that we will go on like this forever. Do you know how happy you've made me? You were the one I could imagine anything with. I never wanted kids. I never wanted to get married, only to get divorced three years later. I never wanted this. But then you came along and showed me that there is a man who could make this all a possibility. A family. A life together. . . "

Tears were streaming down his cheeks when he saw her sitting in front of him throwing all this at his head. He had been such a coward. If he had just talked to her and told her everything, it would never have come to this.

But he was scared. Scared of being rejected again like all the other women did it before. But his (Y/N) wasn’t like them, but he couldn’t bear the thought that she might be.

“I love you, doll. I really do.” Bucky sobbed and wiped the tears from her eyes as (Y/N) looked at him and her eyes were just as swollen as his own before he continued, “I love you more than anything and I-I was stupid because I once again thought only of myself and…and not of the consequences. I love you and I don’t want to lose you. You’re all I have left. ”

Sniffing, (Y/N) looked at the man she loved more than anything. How he lay there on the bed, showing his most vulnerable side. He always appeared so strong in front of everyone so they would not see the real Bucky. But this man was so exhausted by everything that had happened to him. He didn’t want to have those thoughts. These doubts. That fear. He just wanted to live a happy and fulfilled life with (Y/N).

Slowly, she moved closer to him on the mattress and brushed the hair out of his face, which was still a bit sticky because of the blood. Gently, she leaned down to him and embraces him as best she could without touching his wound.

At first, he remained calm, then he wrapped his arms around her center and pulled her into his arms until finally she lay next to him in the bed. The two were sobbing in each other’s arms with (Y/N) running her fingers through his hair. Again, and again.

“I love you, James Barnes. So so much.” (Y/N) muttered as she buried her face in his neck while she was still fondled the back of his head. “But I swear to God, if you do this again, I’ll send Natasha after you and you know what she is capable of.”

“Of course, I know that. I taught her well.” Bucky mumbled while he held her close “I’ll never let you go again. I promise.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #marvel #mcu #own writing #dont repost #one shot #fanfiction #fluff #happy ending #let me take care of you #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes imagine #own gif #giphy

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kingkatsuki · 4 years

Text

Retweet | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

This was a request from @redbeanteax for my Bakugou Birthday event, but I had to change it into a fic because we’ve thirsted over this idea for a while now. It’s based off the hashtag #undressacharacter artwork that artists do on Twitter where they ask for retweets and likes in exchange for drawing the characters stripping!

Part Two.

Warnings: 18+

Word Count: 2600.

Quarantine was boring, there was only so many cat videos you could watch before you were going completely insane. Not that you were someone who went out often, but the fact that you were now forced to stay in doors only made your desire to go out even bigger. Desperate to reconnect with the world.

Resigned to the fact that it would be yet another day indoors mindlessly scrolling on your phone, you opened Twitter, hoping that the app would do something to quell your boredom if only for an hour or so. Last week, Red Riot had posted a video of him putting his shirt on while doing a handstand and you had shamelessly put that video on repeat, watching it so many times that when you had checked the time on your phone three hours had passed.

Hoping for more delicious media like this again today, you scrolled down your timeline, rolling your eyes as you noticed Deku had posted another video of him training. This must’ve been the third this week?

"Do not like.” You muttered to yourself.

In an attempt to avoid the picture you went to scroll down further but your eyes noticed a cocky retort from your favourite Pro-Hero.

That all you got, you damn nerd.

His words alone brought a massive grin to your face, burying your face into the neck of your sweater as you clicked onto his profile, reminding yourself of the perfect image he’d chosen as his profile photo. Clad in his hero outfit without the bulky gauntlets, his strong arms crossed over his firm chest, making his pectorals look more defined as you drank him in. You could probably waste at least three hours staring at this image alone, his head turned to the side just enough to notice his undercut and defined jawline.

You clicked off his picture and looked down at the posts, the most recent tweet posted was five minutes ago. He was online. Or at least, his PR team were online for him. Some of the tweets he put out didn’t always seem like they were from him.

This one in particular was definitely written by him, laced with his usual harsh sarcasm and colourful language.

I’ve been told you fuckers are struggling through this shitshow so give me 5,000 likes for a surprise.

The picture that was paired with the tweet already had you gushing, and he was fully clothed. His hand held his cellphone in front of him, taking a strategically placed mirror selfie. The device blocked most of his face but you could still make out his vermilion red eyes glaring into the surface, probably hiding a smug grin. A stringy black vest top hung off his shoulders, exposing his defined collarbones and leading down to show the curve of his pecs. If he shifted his pose one of his nipples would probably be exposed, the thought making you clench your legs together as you imagined what he’d look like. His hand carded through his messy hair, exposing his perfect forehead, the smooth surface almost glowing in the low light of his bedroom. Your eyes continue lower to see the sweatpants that hung low on his hips, the material tight enough for you to see his prominent bulge, straining against the flattering material.

This man was pure sin.

You watched as the likes and retweets surged in, the number steadily increasing while you continued to take in the picture, immediately moving your fingers up to save it, just in case he had a change of heart. This was something you were going to keep in a special folder forever, something to cherish during the shitty quarantine.

What you got to show us, Ground Zero?

You added your own like and retweet to the image, adding a flirty response underneath it as you eagerly awaited his next tweet. You knew it wouldn’t take long, he’d asked for a ridiculously low amount of interaction, you were certain he’d get more than five thousand comments alone on the picture. Slowly zoning out as you watched the numbers increase, moving back to assess the image again, this time trying to see as much of his bedroom as possible. He was obviously at home bored under quarantine too. You could just about make out a set of weights in the background and his amazing looking bed, the sheets looked dark and expensive, wondering what it would feel like to have him pin you against them.

He must have reached the next milestone pretty quickly because as soon as you scrolled back up your timeline you already noticed another picture. This one far more cocky than the last. It was another mirror photograph, the same position, but this time the phone was angled just enough to show his bare feet, socks bunched in one of his thick fists as he smirked towards the camera.

Fuckin’ perverts. What were you expecting? Next tier 15,000 likes, 5,000 reblogs.

Staring at the same photograph you tried to make out the thick bulge between his legs, you were certain it looked far more prominent than in the last picture, his chin angled at just the right place that you could see the darkness of his five o’clock shadow framing his jawline, immediately imagining what it would feel like to have that pressed against your skin as he dipped between your inner thighs. Your body quivering at the thought as you even zoomed in on his feet. You didn’t even like feet but here you were assessing every inch of this perfect man's body.

Coming out of the picture you were caught completely off guard by another photograph, your breath hitched in your throat as your eyes drunk in the exposed skin on full view. Defined muscles leading down to a prominent v-line, his sweatpants hung low on his hips and a messy trail of hair ran down his middle disappearing under the hem as it lead towards the impressive bulge between his legs. He’d moved the phone lower this time, giving you a better view of his defined jawline, his lips curved in a smug smile as he flipped off the camera.

Knew that would get your attention, fuckin’ pervs. Want more? 30,000 likes, 15,000 reblogs.

Your fingers danced across your screen as you moved to like and retweet the image again, saving it to the same album you had reserved for Ground Zero immediately after. If this was what Quarantine was going to be like, you never wanted it to end. You watched the numbers creep up even faster than the last one, this time opting to scroll through the comments people were leaving on the photograph. Most of them complete filth, telling him what they wanted to do to him and asking him if they send him money will he just take it all off. You had to laugh at one person trying to give him the link to OnlyFans in an attempt to get him to create an account.

You loved when Ground Zero was actually posting on his account and not someone from his PR team because his tweets were always so funny and genuine. Random quips and insults to people, not caring if they were fans or not. Watching as his team tried to do damage control after his outbursts. You had to assume they knew what he was doing right now, you could imagine them having an absolute field day if they weren’t aware. Trying to fix the situation as quickly as possible to avoid a dip in hero ratings. Although, you assumed with the attractive pictures that he had posted paired with the desire for likes and retweets that there was something behind this ploy.

Your heart almost stopped when you saw the banner flash at the top of your phone.

GroundZero has liked your tweet.

What. The. Fuck. You held your phone to your chest and let out a high pitched squeal, kicking your legs as you tried desperately to calm yourself down. It was probably his PR Team, going through and trying to like as many of the incoming tweets as possible, to keep people interested, on the hook of whatever this was. You quickly screenshot the message on Twitter, showing his profile with a like beside your tweet. There had been a few other people who liked the message you’d sent too but his profile sat at the top, his profile picture smiling back at you.

You were preparing to make a tweet about this, a silent brag to the world that the GroundZero liked one of your tweets, your newest claim to fame, even if it was probably his PR team it still counted, but another tweet from GroundZero caught your eyes.

This time all that was captioned was an explosion emoji followed by a picture of Ground Zero again, this time the front facing camera angled towards his body, vermilion eyes gazing at the camera from under messy blond spikes as he held the camera up to get his chest in full view, the closer angle making it easier to zoom in to see everything, even each cut and scar that marred his perfect body. Only adding to his beauty as you immediately moved to like and retweet the image with a final caption.

Can I just sit on your face already?

A second tweet coming in that had information on an Official GroundZero webstore, a pictures of various articles of clothing flashing up on your screen followed with a generic caption and a link.

LIVE NOW. GroundZero Official merchandise. Use code: TWITTER20 for 20% off your first order. Thanks for playing along.

You would definitely have to check that out, your fingers pressing against the screen to save the sinful picture of Ground Zero as another banner flashed up against your screen, staring at it you were almost floored, there was no fucking way-

The generic blue dot popped up at the bottom of the screen to indicate one new message. Your fingers shook as you tapped the notification, opening your messages tab. The name GroundZero sat at the top of your pile, this had to be a joke. Were you dreaming?

You actually gonna fucking talk to me or are you just going to objectify me?

Would his PR team actually send a message like that? It was so crude and to the point, complete with the swearing. You could imagine his Human Resources department having a field day if they found out he’d sent you a message like that, worried about his overall approval ratings lowering.

Is this really you?

You cringed at how strange you probably sounded, it was clear it was his Twitter account, but you just weren’t sure if it was him.

You’ve been sending me slutty tweets for over an hour and you really want to ask if it's me now?

I just wanted to make sure it was you.

Okay, so if it really was Ground Zero you probably did sound crazy to him, you were talking to him on his official Twitter account, but when there was probably at least five other people with access to it you were skeptical. You’d seen this sort of shit on Catfish, and you weren’t about to fall for it.

Who the fuck do you think I am, Princess.

Princess. The word made you stop and grin at your phone, any doubts in your mind started to dissipate as you wanted so bad for it to be him, typing out another response.

I dunno, it must be your PR team or something.

Your doubts disappeared with the next image. Ground Zero lounging across the bed you’d pictured yourself on earlier, his head against the plush pillows as he angled the camera towards his face. His hands positioned to flip you off as you saw the curve of his pecs, the rest blocked off by the angle of the camera. There was no fucking way you were talking to GroundZero right now, it was impossible.

He sent on its own, the word snapping you out of your fantasies as you moved to save the picture he had just sent. You weren’t taking any chances, this dream could end at any second.

I said not to objectify me, Princess. Send me a fucking picture.

You suddenly felt self-conscious. You looked great in your profile picture, it was one that you’d taken after applying your make-up for a night out, making sure you looked perfect before running it through a third-party app to airbrush your features. It wasn’t that it didn’t look like you, it was just you looked great in that picture and here you were, sat in your pyjamas with a make-up free face. Immediately jumping up from your bed to look into your vanity mirror, smoothing down your hair as you tried to make your shirt look sexier than it was, the oversized cotton hanging from your frame.

You could at least say please. You typed back brazenly, trying to stall for time as you continued pruning yourself. How the hell were you messaging Ground Zero right now?

How do I really know it's you? He mocked back, making you grin.

You tried to angle the phone as best you could to capture your features well, smiling softly for the picture as you looked it over. Shaking your head and moving the camera back to take another, this time taking six in quick succession and picking the one you hated the least. Attaching it to the tweet and hitting send.

Well, shit. You really are hot.

You released the breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. Did- Ground Zero just call you hot? You couldn’t believe your eyes as you re-read the words, trying to process what was happening in your mind.

Awful quiet for someone that wanted to sit on my face five minutes ago.

You felt flush as you read his words, it was different throwing your thirst out in public when you knew you had no chance with the Pro-Hero. Now he was sitting in your direct messages it was a completely different story-

Well, my feelings haven’t changed in five minutes.

Shit. When this bullshit is over maybe I’ll have to take you up on that.

Your eyes widened, did he just proposition you? Did he ask you to sit on his face? Thoughts flooding your mind as you imagined what it would be like to see his red eyes glaring up at you as you straddled his face, the thought making a heat rush between your parted thighs.

Well, considering we’re both in fucking quarantine, do I get more pictures?

You almost laughed at the comment, it was almost childish as your fingers moved along to type your response.

I’m not that easy, Mr Zero.

You teased back, grinning as you saw his typing begin immediately after you sent your message, picturing him eager on the other end of the phone.

Fine. How many retweets would it take for me to see more?

The question making you laugh, your Twitter had less than 300 followers, even the thought of getting a thousand likes was ridiculous. You’d have to go viral for that to happen.

A thousand.

Your eyes widened as you saw the banner flash at the top of your phone screen.

GroundZero has retweeted your tweet: Can I just sit on your face already?

Moving back to your direct messages you read the final comment Ground Zero had left you.

Five minutes, Princess.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki smut #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou smut #bakugou imagines #bakugou katsuki imagines #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #bnha smut #mha x reader #mha smut #mha imagines #bakugou's birthday party

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shurelyasreverie · 3 years

Note

Hi! I'm super new to your blog and have read a few of your drabbles and I absolutely adore them. My best friend adores your writing too and she introduced me to your blog and is super shy. I was wondering if I could request for her a Swain x reader? She just adores Swain so much and loves fluffy content. ❤

I feel so honoured having my blog be introduced and recommended between friends omg!! I’m glad you like my writing and please let your friend know that she (and everyone else) is welcome to drop by and say hi 😊

Swain x Reader Drabble: Break Time

Reaching your destination, you rapped your knuckles against the wooden door in front of you.

“Come in.”

Even though his voice was as commanding and eloquent as ever, you could hear the slight tinge of fatigue through the door. As quiet as possible, you entered Swain's office while carefully balancing a tray of snacks in your hand. And before you, sitting behind a desk, his face lit up by red flames, was the grand general himself.

Upon noticing it was you, Swains' taut face eased a little, his lip quirking up ever so slightly. Only for you.

“You don't have to do such menial tasks, my dear,” Swain stated as he eyed the tray in your arms, his voice now holding more vigour in your presence. “There are plenty of servants assigned for that.”

“I just wanted to pay you a visit,” you excused with a smile before looking at him in concern. “You've been cooped up in your office all day.”

“The life of a general, is it not?” Swain asked, looking back down at his paperwork and signing documents as you approached him. “If I cannot dictate Noxus with a sword, I shall do it with ink. They do say that the pen is mightier than the sword.”

“You should still rest though,” you chastised as you slid the tray of refreshments across the desk, gently pushing the small pile of folders away. “Just half an hour, take your mind off of business and enjoy the snacks I handpicked just for you.”

“Tempting,” Swain replied, amused. “But these contracts must be done before the sun rises... I suppose I could have a ten minute break.”

“Twenty minutes.”

“Fifteen.”

“Fine,” you sighed. Swain carefully put away his quill and placed the lid over a small vial of ink. When he placed them to the side of the desk top, he turned back to see a cup of freshly brewed tea taking their place.

“Done just how you like it,” you smiled and he sent an appreciative look back.

“We shall see about that,” he teased light heartedly, taking the teacup. Although you had made his drinks plenty of time before, becoming a little ritual for the two of you, you still couldn't ignore the gnawing feeling of anticipation as Swain took a sip. Every move he made was calculated, he scrutinised everything around him. You watched as he placed the cup down, swallowing.

“Simply divine,” he stated. “Much like its brewer.”

He sent you a knowing look and you immediately averted your gaze, heat coming up to your face as he chuckled.

“Come,” he invited, pushing his seat away from the table, giving you space to situate yourself on his lap. When you did, he loosely put his arms around your waist. “I hope your day was pleasant.”

You hummed in affirmation. “Didn't do much, though. Just wandering around the streets, enjoying whatever Noxus has to offer. It was a shame I had to explore alone, though.”

“I do apologise,” Swain admitted. His arms around you tightening. “This state of matters will not last forever. Let these next few days pass and I will be by your side yet again.”

“A few days?” Your jaw dropped, visibly appalled.

“Of course, I will join you at our bedchamber tonight and all the nights to come,” he explained. “But I'd hope you'd be asleep by then.”

“I'll stay awake for you.”

“You will not,” Swain eyebrows furrowed. “Your health should be your first priority but ironically it is mine instead. You must rest.”

“And so do you,” you countered. “You're looking more tired than usual. Staring at all this paperwork is doing no good for you.”

“Perhaps I could do a meditation or relaxation of sorts for the remaining time we have,” Swain mused. “I presume you will stay for its entirety? Your presence would be greatly appreciated.”

“I won't go anywhere,” you reaffirmed.

Swain responded with a ghost of a smile, pulling your figure even closer to him, his tainted hand wrapping carefully around your own. His face nuzzling your hair, a chaste kiss placed on the crown of your head before he lay his cheek there. His eyes closed, you could feel the tension leaving his body as his arms lay lax around your waist and lap.

“You spoke of exploring what Noxus had to offer?” Swain asked. “Do tell me.”

“Don't you want to relax? Maybe just staying quiet is best.”

“Your presence is soothing enough, my dear. Enlighten me, I insist.”

So you did, speaking in hushed tones as you were huddled into his chest, cherishing this small window of time you had together.

#fanfic #imagine #drabble #lol #league of legends #league of legends imagine #lol imagine #league of legends x reader #lol x reader #swain #swain lol #jericho swain #swain league of legends #swain x reader #x reder #self insert #fluff #shurelyasreverie

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yamigooops · 3 years

Photo

~reward~

pairing: shotō todoroki x gn!reader genre: fluffy smut bby words: 2.3k warnings: none, just a blowjob hehe

a/n: uuuuuh hi, here’s something that i had in my writing folder that i completely forgot about, so hopefully this will placate you until i start posting my kinktober stuff WHICH I’M SO EXCITED ABOUT BTW. please enjoy :)

The water seared your tired skin as you stepped into the shower. You’d haphazardly thrown your clothes to the ground, putting on some music to fill the silence to make you feel mildly less alone in your big high-rise apartment. Settling in the center of the spray, you stood there for a moment, eyes shut, and head thrown back as you let the water roll down your chest. You lifted your hand and trailed your fingers down the valley between your breasts, pretending that the heat from the water and the touch of your hand was that of your lover.

Just the thought of him had your heart fluttering. You had barely seen Shōto at all this week, almost exclusively seeing him first thing in the morning or as you were falling asleep. You couldn’t blame him though, being the number 3 hero was a time-consuming job, especially since he and Deku were in the middle of a large investigation. He wasn’t able to tell you much about it, but from what you could gather from both him and the news, it was something big and probably very dangerous. So, every night he came home had you saying a silent prayer that he was safe, at least until tomorrow came.

Usually, he tried to send a few texts every day, but today there weren’t any, and it had you a bit on edge. As you soaked your hair, you thought about what he’d said this morning. The room was illuminated with the first rays of morning sun, casting him in soft golden light that had his hair shining and his skin glowing.

“Today is going to be difficult,” he murmured, pulling you closer into his chest. “We’re moving in on the suspect, and I’m not totally sure how it will go. But I don’t want you to worry, alright? I’m going to be just fine.” He pressed his lips to your hair, and you felt your heart constrict in your chest. “I know you probably will anyway, though.”

“You know me so well, Shō,” you chuckled softly. You traced your fingertips across his chest, mind wandering as you imagined all the things that could go wrong on his mission. “Just promise me you’ll come home tonight. Even if I’m asleep, you have to wake me up and let me know you’re back.”

He was quiet for a moment, prompting you to look up at him. His face was calm, eyes meeting yours with a soft determination that you had seen on him many times before. “I will come back to you, Y/N. I swear it.”

He hadn’t returned yet, but it wasn’t unusual for him to come home late on a normal day, much less one with a big mission like this. You tried to keep your worries at bay, tried to remind yourself that he was one of the strongest heroes in all of Japan. He could handle himself, and he was going to come back home, where he belonged. But that worry was still there, all too real and clawing at your heart no matter how hard you tried to ignore it.

Picking up the shampoo you were about to squirt some into your palm when the shower door opened quietly behind you. Spinning around, you were met with Shōto’s familiar smile. Gasping, you threw your arms around his neck, earning a quiet grunt from the hero. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling your torso flush against his as you buried your face in his neck. You stayed there, simply breathing in each other’s presences as the water ran down your back from the ceiling.

“You’re alright,” you whispered, relief flooding your veins at the feeling of his skin against yours once again.

“A little battered and tired as hell, but yes, I’m alright little one.” His voice sounded slightly strained, like he’d done quite a bit of yelling today, and as he’d suggested he sounded exhausted. But his fingers were gentle against your skin as he pulled back slightly to look at you. “I hope you didn’t drive yourself crazy worrying about me like you always do?” His lips raised in a small smile as he quirked one eyebrow.

“Oh, you know I did. Who would I be if I didn’t?” You chuckled. You pressed your forehead to his, closing your eyes and saying a silent prayer of thanks that he was back in your arms. You gently kissed him, heart soaring now that it was out of the grip of fear and worry, at least for now. Pulling back after a moment, you surveyed the damage. He had a bandaged bicep and calf, as well as numerous bruises blossoming on his fair skin, but nothing appeared to be broken. Gesturing to the bandages, you gave him a questioning look.

“The villain got in a few lucky shots with some blades,” he said, looking down sheepishly. “Nothing too bad though. Just a few new scars to add to my collection.”

“A collection which I wouldn’t mind never adding to again,” you chided playfully, but knowing full well he grasped your meaning.

“As you wish, I’ll just tell the villains you said they aren’t allowed to hurt me ever again.” His voice was colored with a dry humor that was reserved almost exclusively for you, and you couldn’t keep the smile off your face.

“You do that, won’t you?” You pressed another chaste kiss to his lips before stepping back. “Now, let’s clean up yeah? I’m sure you’re exhausted and want to get to bed.” You lifted the shampoo bottle yet again, but he plucked it from your grasp, pouring some into his hand and gesturing for you to turn around. Rolling your eyes, you obliged, welcoming the feeling of his fingers as they worked the shampoo into your hair and gently massaged your scalp. When he finished and you’d rinsed the suds under the waterfall spray, you returned the favor, taking care to get out the grime that had gotten into his hair thanks to the battle. He had his eyes closed as you rinsed it out, the picture of relaxation and bliss.

“Time to scrub down that sweet little body,” he murmured, picking up a loofa and putting his body wash on it. He knew you liked using his instead of the one you’d gotten for yourself, which stood nearly untouched and was essentially a waste of a few good yen. After getting it sudsy, he started scrubbing your back in slow, careful motions moving down until he reached your ass, which he playfully squeezed as he placed a kiss to the back of your head before turning you around. He washed the rest of you before it was your turn to return the favor.

You got to work on his back, fingers gliding easily over the contours of his muscles as you admired his physique for the millionth time. You brought the loofa over his arms, careful to avoid the bandage on his left one but making sure to scrub away all the grime from the day before you turned him around. You brought it over his chest, the silence almost palpable between the two of you as music played softly in the background. As you finished cleaning off his stomach, you looked up to meet his gaze, which you found squarely on you. Despite having been together for almost two years now, that two-toned gaze never failed to make your insides squirm and your cheeks heat up.

That heat drove you to your knees as you brought the loofa down his uninjured leg, eyes holding his the whole way down. You saw his shoulders tense slightly as he gulped, catching the meaning behind your actions before you even acted. You finished washing his legs, taking care around his calf before tossing the loofa to the ground. You guided him to step back into the stream of water, helping wash away the suds running down his body, before you smiled wickedly and pushed him down onto the stone bench that ran the length of the wall.

“My Shōto, I’m so glad you’re home,” you murmured, pressing gentle kisses to the insides of his thighs. “I’m so sorry you got hurt, so I just want to make you feel better.”

“I know, little one.” His voice was low as he threaded his fingers into your hair, holding it out of your face as you placed one hand around his hardening length. “You always make me feel so good, even when I’m hurt.”

As your lips met the junction of his thigh and his member, you paused, looking up at him. “Thank you for keeping people safe, Shōto. You put yourself in harm’s way to save others. And I will forever be grateful for that,” you sighed, a smile spreading across your features as your hand slowly pumped him. “Even if it means I’m always worrying about you. I’ll gladly do that if it means you get to fulfil your life’s goal.”

“I never mean for you to worry, my love,” he sighed. His other hand cupped your chin gently, thumb running over your lips as he looked down on you with hooded eyes. “But knowing that I get to come home to you each night makes what I do so much easier.”

You ducked your head to kiss his palm before moving to press your lips to the now swollen head of his dick. A bead of precum had gathered there, and you swiped your tongue over it, eyes closing in bliss at the taste of him. Unable to wait any longer, you wrapped your lips around him, tongue swirling around his head for a few moments before you moved further down.

He grunted as you hollowed your cheeks, taking things slow but not too slow. You wanted to savor the moment, cherish the fact that he came home from his mission and was back in your arms safe and sound. You wanted to make this memorable, wanted him to think about it for the days to come as he went off to fight villains and keep unknowing citizens safe. So, you took your time, drawing out every moment as you swirled your tongue around his shaft, fingers tightening around the base as you sunk further down.

“So warm,” he moaned, fingers tightening in your hair. You looked up to find his eyes screwed shut, head lolled forward as he bathed in the pleasure of the moment. Steam curled around him as beads of water rolled down his chest. The shower was hot on your back, and you off-handedly wondered if he was cold before remembering his quirk and shrugging the thought off.

Moaning around him, you ran your free hand slowly up his stomach, running your nails over his skin and coming to a stop at one nipple. You circled it with your middle finger for a moment, teasing it as you bobbed up and down on his length. He sucked in a sharp breath as you took it between your fingers and pinched, rolling the bud between your fingers. He had such sensitive nipples, and you always tried to pay attention to them when you went down on him.

“Y-Y/N I-” he choked out, head leaning back against the shower wall as you pushed further down his cock, nose brushing his stomach as he hit the back of your throat. The hand that had been pumping him moved to cup his balls, fingers running over them softly. “Feels so good!” If you could have smiled, you would have. His chest was heaving harder now, a flush running from his cheeks down his neck.

You pulled off him for a moment to catch your breath, a line of thick saliva and precum connecting your bottom lip to his cock. “You’re doing so well Shō, almost there,” you encouraged in a hushed voice between gasps for air. He let out a whimper as you pumped him before you sank back onto him all the way to the hilt. Your eyes watered slightly, but Shōto was worth watery eyes. He was worth so much more than that, and you knew you had to show him.

So, you went hard. You gave him everything as he began to buck up into your waiting mouth. His hand pressed down, and you took all of him with each thrust. It was a bit overwhelming, and your jaw was beginning to ache, but it was worth it as soon as you looked up at him again.

“I’m c-close, Y/N! Almost there-” he groaned, brows knitting together as he grimaced. You gave his balls a squeeze at the same time as his nipple and he cried out. It was just enough to send him over the edge, and he spilled hot cum down your throat. It coated your tongue, and you savored the taste of him as you continued to bob up and down, letting him ride out his high. You continued until he moaned in overstimulation, and you pulled off him with a sly grin and a pop.

He peeled his eyes open, gaze hazy with lust and weariness as he moved his hand from your hair to your cheek. “God, I love you so much, Y/N.” His voice was hoarse, and you smiled at the sound of it.

“I had to give you some sort of reward for your hard work today,” you chuckled, pushing off your knees to kiss him. His tongue was hot in your mouth as you wound your fingers into his two-colored hair.

Breaking off, he looked at you with a glint in his eyes. “Well then I suppose I should thank you properly for that reward then, shouldn’t I?”

Despite how tired he was, you had a feeling tonight would be a long night…

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

Only Time Will Tell | Part 2

18+

Summary: Fifteen years after a horrible breakup, Y/N and spencer figure out that time can heal almost everything.

Content Warnings: angst, parental death, mentions of cancer and suicide. Bi reader, bi spencer, recounting childhood relationships, slight angst, spencer's headaches, abusive relationships (not spencer and reader) blood tests, spencer's addiction issues, getting together, smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, switch spencer, sub reader, smut (not super graphic)

Word Count: 6.5K

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

When she wakes up she’s incredibly confused. She stares up at the bumpy stucco ceiling and Spencer laying on her chest and it feels like she’s gone back in time. He’s so snuggled into her, but her body is different than when she was 15, a lot different. He has a handful of one boob and his face on the other and she just shakes her head at the sight.

She kisses his forehead and strokes his hair and she lets it happen, because this is how she’s wanted to wake up every single day for the past 15 years. She’s spent just as long away from him as she’s spent loving him and she never realized how much it would hurt to think about it when she got him back.

She expected all the pain to go away, and while she’s a doctor and she knows way too much about the human brain, she still expected him to make her instantly happy. It wasn’t going to happen like that. Yes the hormones and endorphins were going to help, hugs and kisses and cuddles, sleeping beside him and hopefully sex… all those would contribute to making her feel happy, but at the end of the day her depression was always going to sit in the corner and attack when she was the most vulnerable.

Even with her last crush, it was good until she was alone. She’d cuddle with her all night with her lips pressed to her shoulder, wishing more than anything that she could feel that good forever… and it faded away when she realized she’d never have her. Unlike how she feels with Spencer right now.

He starts to wake up, also confused she guesses because he pulls away and sits right up with wide eyes and a horrified look on his face that just makes her laugh. “It’s fine, lay back down,” she pulls him back in and he settles, but the hand that was on her boob is now on her arm and he doesn’t say a word.

“How was your sleep?” She eventually asks, it’s the slightest whisper as she runs her fingers over his back the way he liked when he was younger.

“Really good,” he whispers back, “I haven’t slept this long in probably 15 years.”

“That makes one of us,” she smirks, “I sleep so much, it’s never refreshing but I sleep a lot.”

“I have really bad headaches, and no one can give me answers for them, I want to sleep but normally I can't.”

“What do you mean no one has answers?” She feels a little defensive, “have you had a brain scan or done blood work?”

“I’ve done it all,” he sighs, and she lifts him off of her.

“Do you have them here? Can I look?” She starts to worry for him, wanting to see everything she can and help him.

“Yeah,” he gets out of bed and rummages through his things, pulling out a few manila folders.

She grabs her phone and turns the flash on, laying it face down on the bed and shining up towards the ceiling, she takes out his MRI, a CT scan and holds them over the light one by one. “Your gray matter is so thick…”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“You’re a genius, tell me what gray matter does,” she teases, remembering how she used to use him as a google before Google was even invented.

“It's found throughout the central nervous system and controls movement, memory and emotions…”

“You’re a genius, I’ve always wondered how it would look,” she is fascinated with these normally, but Spencer’s is her favourite so far. “Your brain looks good, there’s nothing alarming, nothing out of the ordinary, but that doesn’t mean it’s all working right.”

He just hums along, she places them all back in their folders and opens his folder of paperwork, reading all his blog tests, “this is just basic stuff?”

He nods, “they won't test anything without reason.”

“Come to my lab? I’ll run every test in the book, you’re technically a schizophrenia research candidate so no one will care.”

“Really?” He looks almost excited, “I can take the morning off?”

“Okay,” she smiles, “let’s get ready then.”

She makes a phone call in Spencer’s kitchen, he’s still in the shower but Y/N’s completely dressed and ready for the day with the little supplies she brought in her bag. But she needs help.

“What?” The man answers first.

“It’s just me, put her on.”

“I’ve got this—Hello,” her best friend snatches the phone from him and answers with a smile she can hear, “how are you, bestie?”

“Hi Maeve,” she whispers with a smile.

“Why are we whispering?” She teases, “are you at someone’s house?”

“Yes,” she smiles, “I’m at Spencer’s.”

“No fucking way…” she whispers, “why didn’t you call me after your coffee date on Tuesday? I was so excited to hear about it.”

“I tried, but Bobby picked up and said you weren’t available,” she replied with a deep sigh, not hiding the fact that she hates Maeve’s fiancé.

“Oh,” she sounds ashamed and it makes Y/N feel bad for her, “well, how’d it go?”

“Good, we had a very PG13 sleep over the way we used to, It was nice waking up with him again, but I’m taking him into work today to do some blood work, I was wondering if I could send you some of his results? He’s getting headaches that he says are pretty debilitating?”

“Hmm, I’m free this morning once Bobby leaves for work, has he had any prior tests? I can come by and meet my best friend's best friend?” Maeve all but begs, that same pleading tone in her voice that Y/N loves.

“Of course, I’d never turn down a visit from you, I’ve missed you a lot,” she smiles at the floor, “and you’re really going to like Spencer.”

“I’m sure I will, do you think everything’s going to work out between you two?”

“I’m not sure yet,” her smile fades at the admission, “I don’t want to get my hopes up, but given the fact he texted me worried for my well-being and he’s been so adamant about hanging out… I’d like to say things are going back to normal.”

“Awe,” she swoons, “I love stories like this, you know that. I’m so glad you’re finally talking to him again, I thought I was going to have to bring you into my marriage, sister-wife style, in order to make you happier.”

“You could still leave Bobby for me,” she teases. “If this doesn’t work out, I still need a wife?” She teases and Maeve laughs and it makes her smile wide and toothy.

“Okay, I’ll think about it,” she whispers, “I’ll see you at work? In like an hour?”

“Do you want a coffee? We’re probably going to stop on the way,” Y/N offers, finally looking up from the pattern in the kitchen tile to see Spencer standing in the doorway.

“Just my usual,” she can hear Maeve’s smile, “but I’ll see you then, bye, love you.”

“Love you too,” she hangs up and stutters as she looks at Spencer, “I didn’t hear the water turn off?”

He’s standing there in a dark purple towel, one around his waist and one tightly wrapping his hair, he looks silly but she loves it. “Who was that?”

“My best friend,” she presses her lips together awkwardly, “she’s a geneticist, and if you have a deficiency causing these headaches she’s the best one to figure it out.”

“Thank you for caring this much,” it sounds so sad, she can tell he’s not used to this kind of effort being put in for him anymore.

“I’m very used to protecting you, it’s not something I can drop, even after fifteen years,” she reminds him, “I hate to think that you’ve had to do it alone for so long.”

“It’s been hard,” he agrees. “How is this going to work?”

“What?”

“Being best friends? Because as much as everyone on my team says they’re my best friend, I don’t feel close enough to anyone to give them that title anymore, not since I stopped talking to you,” it’s a lot to take in at a quarter to 8 in the morning.

Her eyes just go wide and she feels so bad for him, but at the same time, he did that to himself. He could have reached out, he could have stayed. There are lots of things he could do, and now the only thing she wants to do is let it go.

“Maeve means a lot to me, you’ll like her,” she steps into his space and pokes his wet chest, “she’s the only woman in her field, I’m the only woman in mine, we met at a talk a few years back and she’s been my person for so long.”

“Why couldn’t she go to get the time capsule with you?”

“She can’t leave the state,” Y/N admits, “she has a stalker and she won't tell me much, she doesn’t want me involved, she’s a little scared. And Bobby won't even let her answer the phone anymore, she’s why I reached out. She believes in fairytales and happy endings and after everything I’ve told her she said this love story has all the makings of a romantic comedy.”

Spencer laughs, “she’s not wrong.”

“She’s always going to be my best friend, but I can have two,” Y/N suggests, looking up at him and raising a brow.

“I don’t mind sharing,” he whispers.

It looks like he wants to kiss her and she desperately wants to lean in and let him, but he backs up. “I’m just going to change and then I’ll meet you back out here.”

“Yeah, course,” she lets him walk away and her heartbeat is audible in her ears.

She’ll always love Spencer, and yet a part of her wonders what would’ve happened if she had actually asked Maeve out that week before she met Bobby. Then she’d be able to go to the cops about the stalker, then she’d keep her safe all the time, and then again maybe she wouldn’t be here with Spencer trying to make it work if she was with Maeve.

It’s a lot to deal with at 8 in the morning.

She walks down to the building's garage with Spencer, he’s all dressed and ready for the day and he looks great. He dresses better than when he was a teenager, everything matches, it’s pressed and clean and he honestly could walk the runway like this.

And then she sees it.

“You still have it?”

“Shit,” Spencer whispers, “we can take the subway or a cab or something if this is triggering at all?”

“No,” she assures him, “I’m not triggered, just shocked that Amy still runs?”

“I’m an engineer, remember? I know how to keep her going.”

She runs her hand along with the blue paint of Diana’s old Volvo Amazon, who they appropriately named Amy when they were kids. She looks in at the backseat, the tear in the seat is still there from when the button on her jeans got stuck, the light in the radio is still burned out, unable to tell the time. The seats are just as comfortable, she turns on just as loud as before, and she never thought she’d say she missed the smell.

They stop at a coffee shop by the university, Spencer orders first and then it’s up to her, “can I get an iced coffee and—“

“A white hot chocolate with a blueberry tea bag in it? Absolutely,” the barista smiles, “anything else today, Y/N?”

“Not today, Katie,” she smiles, taking out the normal amount and a decent tip, “how’s school going?”

“Good, thank you for that study guide, I got a 92 on my last Bio test,” she’s unbelievably giddy and it makes Y/N’s day.

“that’s amazing,” Y/N makes the most basic small talk before joining Spencer by the counter.

“How do you know everyone?” Spencer whispers and nudges her shoulder with his own.

“I talk to people,” she nudges him back, “you’d be amazed by what happens when you let people in.”

Spencer hums, they watch Katie make their drinks carefully and quickly, putting them in a tray and handing them to Y/N with a smile. “Have a wonderful day.”

“You too!” Y/N calls back and waits for Spencer to get the door for them.

And then he opens the passenger door for her too. “So, I have to ask…” Spencer says as they finally get back in the car. He places his coffee in the cup holder, “were you and Maeve together at some point?”

“No…”

“Oh,” he drops it when he realizes it’s not a question she wants to be asked.

The rest of the drive is quiet, she sips her coffee and looks out the window and he taps the steering wheel the way he always used to do. “Have you dated anyone in the last 15 years?”

“Not really,” he shrugs, “I have been on dates but nothing’s really worked out.”

“Hmm,” she says before she drops it.

Pulling into her work, he parks in her spot and the two of them get out and begin their walk to the elevators and then he asks another question.

“So you haven’t dated or been with anyone since we broke up?” He looks a little shocked.

“Not really,” she shakes her head, “I don’t feel the need to? I’m not lonely, I’m busy.”

“Oh.”

The elevator dings and she walks out first, through the main hall and towards the lab. She puts on her coat and hands Spencer a blank one, “these are my Ph.D. candidates.”

Inside she has 4 students all dressed up and doing their work and Spencer waves awkwardly as they look up at him. “Good morning guys.”

“Morning doctor,” they reply in unison.

“My friend Spencer here has a genetic predisposition for schizophrenia so I’m just going to run the basic tests but he’s not going to be in any of the trials.”

“Sounds good,” one of them smiles.

“We’ll be in here if you need me,” she points at her office and Spencer follows her inside. “Oh, and Maeve is coming in as well, tell her to come right in.”

“Why? How many people have you slept with?” She suddenly closes the door, resuming their conversation immediately.

“Including you,” he does the calculations on his fingers, letting out a deep breath he was keeping in. “Elle, Ethan, and a handful of one-night stands…”

“That’s not too bad,” she shrugs and then she can’t help but laugh, “but Ethan? Really?”

Spencer nods with a smirk, “I told you I would one day.”

She laughs, remembering how much they hated each other. Ethan was a pain in the ass, flirting with both of them to piss the other off, especially when they were all on opposite mathlete teams… but Spencer did have a crush and she was secure enough in their relationship back then to just laugh it off, like she is now.

“How did it even happen?” She asks, taking out all the supplies from the cupboard, and returning to him with an elastic band.

“I went to see him in New Orleans because I was addicted to drugs and he’s an alcoholic and I wanted him to tell me not to waste my life away because no one else was going to do it.”

“Wait, addicted? I thought it was just the one case?” Her whole body reacts, her heart drops and her breathing changes and she worries for him in a way she hasn’t felt in years. “Do you want me to do this in your hand so you don’t get triggered?”

He shakes his head, “no, it’s fine,” and then he takes a chip out of his pocket, “it was nice to not feel anything for a while.”

He hands it to her, it’s a 5-year chip and it makes her smile. “I’m always going to be proud of you.”

“I know.”

She hands it back to him and he puts it back where it belongs and the conversation dies there as she takes his blood and he looks away. She has a few vials, she puts his name on them and turns back to him. “Can I ask who Elle is?”

“She was on my team,” he presses his lips together and she knows there’s more in there.

“And?”

“She was shot and had terrible PTSD after, I checked on her one night and she was drinking and we got to talking about her feelings and she didn’t want to be alone… the next night she killed a serial rapist and claimed self-defence but I know she killed him because we couldn’t get justice for his victims. She put justice into her own hands, and then she left.”

“Do you live in a soap opera?” She teases, “damn, okay. I mean good for her, she probably thought if she was going to prison at least she could get some dick first.”

“That’s what I thought for a while too,” Spencer nods along, only slightly sad. “But then I thought about what I did to you, and I figured she didn’t need a reason to sleep with me and leave me, sometimes it just happens and there isn’t a good reason.”

“It’s different for boys,” she combats. “And you weren’t a virgin then, you were what? 24? You were almost a full-brained man.”

“I know.”

She needs to let it go, she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, “sorry.”

“You’re not wrong. The damage I must have caused isn’t something that heals fast,” he explains and it starts to feel like a profile. “You haven’t just not slept with anyone because you don’t want to. It’s because you’re scared. We were really young, we were stupid, and I hurt you to the point where you can’t let in anyone who will leave you. I’m going to keep saying I’m sorry even though I know I can’t remove the scars, they’re always going to be there.”

“I hate you sometimes,” she whispers, turning away from him and gripping the counter. “You didn’t have to read me like that. Not everything is your fault you know, I’ve tried. I’ve wanted to and none of the people I’ve dated were good enough and the person I wanted to sleep with the most found someone else before I had the courage to do anything about it.”

“I’m sorry.”

She turns back to him with a straight face, “I wanted to feel loved more than I wanted to be fucked. You damaged my heart, not my vagina.”

He tries not to laugh, biting his lips and yet the air that leaves his nose sounds like a laugh, she turns her attention back to him, playfully outraged that he would laugh. “You’re a dick.”

“I missed you a lot,” he smiles, “and I’m really glad you reached out.”

—

When Maeve comes in, Y/N wraps herself around her so tight that Maeve laughs. “Hello lovely,” she whispers against her and Y/N’s heart flutters just a bit.

“Were you safe?” Y/N worries and brushes her hands along her arms as she looks her over. “You weren’t followed or anything?”

“No,” Maeve assures her and hugs her once more, “you look so good, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you,” she rocks her back and forth slightly and then turns to introduce her to Spencer, who’s now standing.

“This is Doctor Spencer Reid, Spencer this is Doctor Maeve Donovan, my best friend,” Y/N turns to him and Spencer looks at her like he knows her from somewhere.

“wait—

“Journal of Behavioural Psych… I’ve already seen your brain,” Maeve fills in the blanks. “I didn’t reply to your email because I knew you were Y/N’s Spencer.”

“Oh…” Spencer can’t really believe it.

“And I had no idea you have schizophrenia in your family either…” she stares at Y/N with her brows raised.

“Stop,” she whispers under her breath. “I told you.”

“It was between Alzheimer's in Texas and Schizophrenia here,” Spencer repeats. “I always thought I’d be the one to cure it for my mom, but I’m glad it’s you.”

Maeve just smiles at him and Y/N can’t stop smiling at her, it’s surreal to have her best friends meet.

They all catch up with their drinks in her office. Sitting at Y/N’s desk and sharing their stories, Spencer’s medical issues, Y/N’s flight anxiety and Maeve’s stalker.

“I actually got this yesterday…” she takes a letter out of her purse and hands it to them. “I think I’m going to dye my hair brown and move out of Bobby’s apartment. And I might hide for a bit.”

“No,” Y/N shakes her head, “we can get Penelope and the rest of Spencer’s friends to look into this, please? Please you can’t hide anymore this is too serious.”

“This is classic stalker behaviour,” Spencer says as he reads over the letter a few times. “They want to murder you and then kill themselves… do they bring this up often?”

“Yeah,” Maeve agrees. “He has a thing with suicide he’s said I should just kill myself and spare everyone the stress…”

“Wait,” Y/N stands and flicks through all her paperwork, “that girl who you turned down for a Ph.D. handed in the same thesis to me about cell deterioration in people with suicidal ideation.”

“That sounds like it matches up,” Spencer agrees. “I think I can have Penelope email you some information on the student so you can take it to the police?”

“Thank you, Spencer,” she smiles at him and Y/N can’t help but feel like a third wheel somehow.

Because of course her straight best friend, who she’s been in love with for 2 years, would meet her ex-boyfriend and be instantly attracted to him. It’s her luck. And by the way, Spencer is smiling at her, she knows he thinks she’s pretty. She’s known him long enough to remember when he looked at her like that… she clears her throat and gets them to stop making googly eyes at each other.

“We have a flight to catch soon too,” she reminds him. “I’m going to go work with my students if you two want to stay here and talk to Spencer’s co-workers.”

“Yeah,” Maeve agrees quickly. “That sounds good.”

“Can I talk to you first?” Spencer asks, pulling her into the other room and closing the door.

“What’s up?”

“You’re jealous,” he reads her just as well as she reads him.

“And you think she’s pretty,” she bites back. “I’m not jealous, I’m envois. I wished for a very long time that she would love me back and all it takes is a single smile from you and she’s probably willing to leave bobby.”

“But she’s not you,” Spencer replies. “It’s not that easy for me to fall in love, you know that. It took us years to fall as in love with each other as we were and it never went away. Meeting her can’t replace how I feel about you.”

“We can’t do this now,” she stops him. “Sit on it, tell me tomorrow when we open the time capsule. Mean it when you say it, don’t just try and calm me down with your words.”

She leaves the room, walking right past Maeve and into the lab. Helping the first student to call her attention and leaving her best friends to mingle.

—

She has a nap on the plane, Spencer did too, their heads resting against each other as they slept through the turbulence and the crying babies, waking up for the landing and departure. They get a car for the weekend, and the drive to her parent's house is so, so, so quiet.

“I’m not ready for how weird this is going to be” She whispers.

“It’s not going to be weird.”

“Yes, it is,” she’s adamant.

Her bed is still there for them to spend the night in, so are her parent's and brothers' beds if he doesn’t want to sleep beside her. And the couches and the fridge and anything big that she couldn’t move out alone yet.

“Why? Because we have to sleep in the same bed again, because it’s the house with all our memories or because the time capsule has letters addressed to our kids?”

“Yes.”

They both laugh at her bluntness, “we were so hopeful back then.”

“We had no reason not to be,” he says. “Your parents were very good at reminding me that our dreams can come true if we work hard enough.”

“They were great parents,” she agrees. “I miss them so much…”

“Would it be weird if I went to the grave?”

“No,” she lets out a deep breath, “they loved you.”

He pulls onto their old street and her heart is in her stomach. She can’t believe they’re actually doing this, they’re actually together again at her parent's house. He pulls into her driveway, her dad's truck is still parked out front and it looks exactly the same as it used to.

They grab their bags, she opens the door and then they’re alone in her old house. “See,” she teases, “it feels fuckin weird.”

“It’s so cold,” Spencer whispers. “Not like freezing, it just doesn’t feel right in here.”

“I know,” she agrees, taking her things and heading up the stairs towards her old bedroom.

“It’s grey…” Spencer whispers as he enters the room. “What happened to the purple?”

“My mom was bored when she was recovering from the chemo and she wanted to paint, so we did it,” she shrugs, “it was a fun weekend.”

Spencer puts his things in the corner and somehow it feels like they’re 15 again. He used to put his backpack there, he’d kick off his shoes and dive into her bed, waiting for afternoon cuddles and a nap before dinner and then they’d do homework until her curfew when he’d walk back to his house and wave to her from his window.

He kicks off his shoes again and she just sits on the edge of her bed, watching him. He takes off his suit jacket and hangs it on the hook behind her door, another thing he remembered to do almost by instinct.

“It’s like you never left,” she whispers.

He nods, “can I tell you now that I feel the same way, that I miss being loved too.”

It’s way too early in the weekend to be here already. “No,” she whispers. “Don’t do this to me again, please? Don’t offer to love me if you’re not certain that you’ll stay.”

“No one can be?” He reminds her as he sits beside her on her bed.

“You dying and you breaking my heart are two very different things,” she replies. “It would be easier if you died.”

“How?” He looks offended.

“Because then no one else can have you,” she can’t look at him and the tears come back. It fucking sucks. It hurts and she’s embarrassed.

“It’s killed me thinking about you all these years, wondering if you ever replaced me. I spent my whole childhood dreaming about being your wife and then I had to just imagine you with someone else for the last 15 years and it sucked.”

He doesn’t reply.

She shakes the tears away, clearing her throat slightly, “we’re either together or we’re not. Pick one. I can’t be stuck in limbo anymore.”

“No, I can’t just agree to go back to how it was before,” he shakes his head, “I’m not going to live up to your expectations. We are two completely different people now, we can’t just pick up where we left off without us fighting about it. I’m never going to be the same to you as I was when we were kids because I don’t know who that Spencer is anymore. I haven’t been him for a long time and this Spencer is really bad at pretending.”

He’s more assertive now, he was never this confident to fight with her when they were kids and then again he didn’t have a reason to.

They were happy back then.

“Would you like to date again and get to know each other as we are now?” She compromises.

“What if you don’t like who I am now? What if I let you down?”

“You can’t,” she can’t help but smile. “Because even after everything that’s happened, just looking at you fills me with the same feeling it did when we were kids. You’re always going to be my best friend, no matter what, even if we don’t have the same interests anymore or if you’re a bit more annoying…”

It makes him giggle and that’s what she wanted, “see? Look at us? We can do this, we just have to talk about it. I’m open to the fact that you’re a different man now from your trauma and you’re accepting of the fact I’m incredibly damaged from mine, and that we might always be, but one day we’ll laugh about it.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be laughing,” he teases and it feels like it did back then.

“No? I’m going to bring it up to tease you then,” she warns him, “because you’re cute when you’re frustrated.”

“You’re also more annoying than I remember,” he teases her right back and moves in to tickle her the way he used to.

She’s still ticklish. And he still remembers where. He tackles her back against the bed and she tries to push him off but she’s already giggling too hard, eyes closed as she tries to squirm out of his reach. But his arms are somehow longer than before? He wraps around her and digs into her sides with a hearty laugh and then it becomes a hug.

She settles again and he’s still on top of her and her arms wrap around him. His face is in the crook of her neck and she rests her cheek on his head, brushing her jaw along his hair and breathing deeply. She’s missed this so much in the last 15 years.

“I still love you,” he’s the one to say it first and all the tension in her body drops.

“Thank god,” she sighs and holds him a bit tighter. “I still love you.”

There’s a weird feeling in the air, one she hasn’t felt in a very long time. Not since they were sitting in that field, in Spencer’s mom's car, trying to figure out how they were going to have sex in the back seat.

She kisses the top of his head gently and he kisses the side of her neck in return and her breathing hitches. So he kisses her again, this time on the pulse point and up towards her Jaw and her eyes close as she leans into the contact.

It’s been a very long time since he’s seen most of her body, and yet as he strips her clothes off and covers her with his lips, it’s like nothings changed. He did this the first time too, carefully kissing everywhere but with a lot more nerves.

“It’s been a very long time since I’ve done this,” she reminds him, “so please don’t stop.”

He laughs, kissing her cheek and looking down at her. “We’re doing this?”

She nods, “there’s no one here to stop us.”

“And no reason to stay quiet,” he teases back, looking around her room quickly, “it’s strange being back here.”

“We never actually had sex in here,” she whispers, pecking his lips softly and then realizing that’s the first real kiss they’ve shared in 15 years.

He lunges in and kisses her again, hand on her cheek as she rests back against the pillow, he slides a leg in-between her own, grinding against her softly as he kisses her, swiping a tongue along her bottom lip, he used to love making out with her.

They could make out for hours on end, hot and heavy, grinding together but never taking it anywhere. It was just as fun to them as anything else, up until they had sex for the first time. Then it was all they wanted to do, only back then they were both more scared of being caught than actually doing it, and it’s not like they hadn’t been experimenting with each other their whole lives.

They had baths together as kids, they spent a lot of time alone as children and they hit puberty at the same time… she’ll never forget the day they learned what masturbating was, they went home and tried it alone and reported right back to each other the next day.

It was always meant to happen, he was the only person she wanted to take her virginity back then. And she wasn’t mad at him for taking it and then leaving, she was mad at him for having sex with her a million more times before he left.

But he was always so delicate with her and she was just as soft with him, they loved each other and respected each other like it was second nature to them, and it was so easy to slip back into that. She knew everything he liked, he remembered what spots elicited the best responses from her. It was like they never missed a beat.

His clothes come off just as quickly as hers, she’s missed him so much over the years. Remembering their first time for far too long, thinking about him at the worst moments, typically right as pleasure overtook her. She’s been saying his name when she cums for so long it’s the only thing she knows how to do.

“Spencer please?” She whines as they grind together, her lips just as swollen as his.

She sits up and takes him with her, he kneels in front of her and she uses the free space to get off the bed and search through her suitcase. “I brought condoms for a reason,” she laughs as she hands them to him. “I figured this would happen at some point.”

“I did too,” he smirks, “but I also saw tonight that you’re on the pill?”

She nods and laughs, “you’re kidding?” She climbs back into her bed and suddenly she’s nervous, “I mean, yeah, we could? But how do I know you’re clean? You’ve slept with a lot of people since we were together.”

“6 isn’t a lot,” he retorts, “but I just thought I’d ask, I still want you to be the first person I do that with.”

“You’re asking and you can’t even say it?” She teases him, shoving him lightly and taking the condoms from him.

His whole demeanour changes then, “you’d let me fuck you raw?”

She forgets how to breathe then, simply nodding with her jaw dropped, mouth breathing, deeply, she’s shocked. She finally swallows, returning the moisture to her mouth, “yeah…”

“What else would you let me do?” He whispers, drawing her in closer until she’s sitting in his lap and running her hands down his bare chest.

“Anything,” she whispers back, “I’ve missed your touch.”

He hums, brushing his nose against hers before kissing her softly. “Do you think about me still?”

Of course he remembered when she told him that.

There was one day where he never came over, she was waiting and waiting and he wasn’t showing up so she eventually went over to get him. Finding him having an anxiety attack in his room, admitting to her and apologizing profusely for thinking about her when he masturbated the night before. He was afraid she would think he was gross and then hate him. When in reality she was thinking about him too.

She nods, “it’s hard not to when you’re the best I’ve ever had.”

“I’m all you’ve ever had,” he reminds her. Or at least so he thinks.

“No,” she shakes her head, “there was another guy in high school.”

“What?” He furrows his brows, “I thought you said you didn’t?”

“I didn’t really want to, but, I had sex with Kyle VanNuss? Do you remember him?” She asks carefully, scared that this is ruining absolutely everything when she was just so close to having him again.

“I hated him,” Spencer replies. “I’m sorry it wasn’t good.”

“it’s fine it was 12 years ago,” she laughs, “I really wanted to sleep with people, I would have loved to have been able to, but I need this first. I need to feel totally and completely safe and loved and appreciated, the way you make me feel.”

“Demisexuality is defined by—

“Don’t quote textbook definitions at me, I love you and only you and no one compares. Now if there’s a spencer-sexual term, that’s me, and that’s how I’d like to keep it,” she tries to keep a straight face but she ends up laughing and dragging him down with her.

He rests his forehead on her shoulder, arms around her waist, they’re so close and completely naked and it feels right, “this is all I want.”

She sits up a bit, reaching between them and gripping his cock at the base and he moans. He’s bigger than she remembers, he still makes such beautiful sounds as she strokes him and then she runs the head of his cock along her folds and he tosses his head back with another delicious moan.

“Put it in,” he requests.

She sinks down onto him with more ease than she thought she would, always so turned on by him, it’s easy. She bottoms out and rests back against his legs, sitting in his lap, holding him incredibly close. It feels like every single part of him is touching her and she still wants more. Reconnecting their lips, his hands move down to her hips to help her move, grinding and bouncing they make a rhythm that is completely theirs, it works and she’s so lost in him.

Moaning into his mouth, feeling his hands on her body, his chest against hers and his tongue in her mouth. It’s all she’s wanted for a very long time, and it’s overwhelming. She tries to hold herself together but it feels so good, she’s on the edge of every single emotion in the book as she rides him there.

She breaks the kiss to hold him tighter, kissing his shoulder before he picks her up and lays her back against the bed, crawling between her legs and sliding back in. It’s easier at this angle, he slides in and out so easy, his thumb is on her clit and his mouth on her breasts as she lays there, blissed out and moaning, a tear slips down her face and she quickly wipes it away.

It’s all a lot and according to him, he’s staying forever. This isn’t the last time it’ll happen, it’s actually the first of many, the first of forever, and only time will tell how long that forever lasts.

Permanent tag list

@ssacalumsg0lden @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @shemarmooresfedora @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @blanchardsbk @idonotexiste @measure-in-pain @dreams-in-blxck @doc-padfoot @nomajdetective @xoxospencerreid @mggswhorificlover @dinonuggets1967 @meganskane @kya-li @reidsbookclub @muffin-cup @sassymoon @shirleyrose @reidsacademia @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @spooky-goob @strawberryspence @thatsonezesty13

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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flowerwrites06 · 3 years

Text

crystal rainbow — knj + jjk

Plot: Namjoon confronts the rainbow fairy in his favourite library.

Pairing(s): Fairy!Jungkook x Monster!Namjoon

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 2.4k

Genre: Fantasy AU

Tags & Warnings: tentacle sex, cum inflation (there’s a lot of cum), rough sex, pet names (master mostly), crying, begging, dom!namjoon, sub!jungkook, this is still the filthiest piece i’ve never written idk if i should be proud or worried

Authors Note: yes this is a repost that I’m using for the Pride Month June prompt that @thebtswritersclub is holding cause I am a ✨shitty member✨ but I genuinely loved this fic and didn’t want to rot in my folders forever so hope you enjoy! And Happy Pride!

He never understood what rainbows were for until he met him. One gloomy day inside the library when he caught the boy sitting at the final aisle with his head buried in a book. He always wore the brightest sweaters despite his shyness. Today it was a baby pink. His hair always that deep chocolate brown and his eyes, an ethereal rainbow hue.

Namjoon researched a lot on Faeries during his college years. A particularly type was a Rainbow Faery. Usually the love child of a Storm and Sun Faery though less powerful. They didn’t have wings and they could only really create rainbow reflections. Sometimes these faeries would even be considered bad luck or a runt of the family because they provide no useful contribution to the world.

In a way Namjoon knew exactly how that felt. Perhaps not a runt of the family but someone different with seemingly no use; just different.

Today he walked to the last aisle and greeted the beautiful faery, sitting down on the shelf just in front of him. Namjoon found out his name was Jungkook. Without forcing too much conversation, the male simply opened his own book and started reading with him.

His heart thumped against his ribcages seeing the man he had been admiring from afar now sat so close to him. Jungkook had seen Namjoon in history classes always with the best presentations and in music, the best production projects. He always wanted to chat with him but the male seemed to always stay distant with everyone.

A while ago, on a faithful day Jungkook sort of understood why. He caught Namjoon in a rather compromising situation behind a school building; the most beautiful crystal tentacles appearing from his pants glimmering a little as he tried to give himself an orgasm. Unfortunately Namjoon seemed to find it hard to do so on his own. At least from what Jungkook remembered before he ran away blushing furiously.

Now that he saw Namjoon sitting right in front of him, Jungkook couldn’t help but remember that sight again. His cheeks burning terribly as he tried to bury his head into his book.

“I saw that.” Namjoon smirked.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He closed his book, his interest piquing something else now. “You know, I did notice you catching me that day.”

Jungkooks ears deepened into a reddish hue even though a smile still graced his small, adorable lips. “Why didn’t you call me out?”

“Why would I?” Namjoon tilted his head. “Would you have helped me?”

The younger male tried to hide in his book again. Warm tickles of excitement jolted through his body making his breathing a little heavy and ragged. “Maybe.” His voice was so meek but Namjoon made sure to catch every word.

“Maybe isn’t a yes.”

“Yes.” It felt freeing saying it without inhibition. Jungkook had been curious to see them again. Even it was just once. As if Namjoon had been reading his mind somehow, he felt something ride up his jeaned thigh causing his length to stir. Rainbow eyes flickered down to see one, gorgeous crystal appendage slither up until it stopped at his sweater.

Namjoon watched his pretty lips curl up into a grin as he closed his book and focused on the part of him he never showed to anyone. Somehow there was this aura built around Jungkook that made him feel safe. Like he could trust him in full vulnerability. The world stopped for a moment when he noticed the faery thrum his fingers in the air before he saw them. Rainbow reflections shining and glimmering against his tentacle almost like Jungkook was marking him as his own.

“It’s beautiful.” He muttered, carefully caressing the appendage causing Namjoon to hum in delight. Jungkook gasped lightly when it began to sneak up his shirt; it felt warm and soft against his bare skin. “Would you like me to help you now?”

Namjoon couldn’t seem to stop trailing his tentacle around his torso, cheekily brushing against his nipples to see him jerk a little. “I don’t just have one.”

“I know.” Jungkook whispered, a ghost of a smile gracing his ethereal features. “I counted.”

“And you still want it?” He traced it down his happy trail and rested atop his stiff crotch.

“Yes.”

Books now forgotten, Namjoon led the pretty faery into his dorm room.

“You’re sure about this?” He still asked even though it wasn’t hard to see the younger male practically squirming on the floor in front of him.

Jungkook bit down a whine threatening to escape his lips as he clasped his fingers together and pressed down on his crotch. “Please…I-I haven’t stopped thinking about it..”

Namjoon raised a brow, eying him with curiosity. He was ready to burst yet so obedient. Thinking about ruining all of that innocence caused a strong stirring between his legs. “Take off your clothes then, pretty.” He felt accomplished seeing the clear redness on his ears and cheeks.

Not wasting a single second, Jungkook pulled his oversized sweater off him revealing his torso softened from the lack of working out. Then he moved to unbutton his pants, pushing them down and nudging it away.

“Boxers too.” Namjoon voice was as soft as his expression, admiring every inch of his skin. Untouched. A black canvas ready to be painted with all the sin he could inflict on him.

Rainbow hued eyes flickered up at him, round and pliant as he hooked his fingers at the hem of his boxers, shedding them to the side and sitting bare on the floor of the bedroom. His erection already a little uncomfortable, raised up against his lower belly.

“You’re so ready, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Master.” Namjoon narrowed his gaze, examining his reaction closely to see if he was comfortable. “Can you call me that, sweet thing?”

“Yes, Master.” The nickname rolled off his tongue easily. There were many names Jungkook imagined to call him. Sometimes he would utter sinful ones when he reached a blurry high alone.

“Good.”

His ears pricked up hearing a belt unbuckling until a light thud on the floor. Seconds past before he felt them first. Jungkook kept his head down, feeling a soft tendril trace up his torso and another down his back causing a heated tingle in his belly.

“Look at me.” Namjoon demanded. A third tentacle coming up to his chin to meet his rainbow glistened eyes. “Did you want this?”

Jungkook let out a pleased sigh as a forth tentacle slithered up his thigh. “Yes, Master.” He gulped down, fifth tentacle wrapping around his leg. A sixth one wrapping around his other and spreading them apart until his legs couldn’t go any further. The younger male almost stumbled back but two more wrapped around his arms to keep him up. His entire body completely submitted to his favourite creature.

“What’s this?” Namjoon smirked seeing the little pink glimmer between his ass cheeks. The ninth tentacle moved towards the butt-plug, gently pulling it out. A light squelch filled the heated air making him hum. “You like it stretched, don’t you?” He noticed the thick girth of the plug before watching Jungkooks’ chest rise and fall, gaze darkening. “I asked a question.”

“Y-Yes, Master.” He whimpered, walls fluttering around nothing as one tentacle brushed over his leaking slit making him jerk. The crystal tendril wrapped around the base of his cock, slowly stroking up and down, spreading his arousal over his entire length. One tentacle moved from his back to his jawline, swiping across before sneaking in between his lips. Jungkook moaned as he slacked his jaw, allowing it to slither deep down his throat while he sucked.

Two tentacles brushed across his nipples earning a whine from the faery. One prodded at his entrance, pushing in without warning as Namjoon admired the way Jungkook trembled, moans vibrating through his body.

“Yes, sweetheart…” He whispered, relishing his pleased whine. “Tight, sloppy little hole…you feel that?”

Jungkook hummed feeling the tentacles move deep inside him, a bulge protruding from his belly as his walls clenched around him.

“That’s a good boy.” Namjoon muttered, a second tentacle slithering inside, stretching him further. Warm arousal flowing out of his tips and staining Jungkooks skin. Both tentacles thrusted into the faery, one precisely brushing against his sweet spot while the other moving as deep as possible into him until Jungkooks eyes rolled to the back of his skull.

He sucked him with so much enthusiasm, gagging around him, spit dripping down the sides of his mouth. Teary eyes fixated on Namjoon, watching his face contort in pleasure. All of his groans reached Jungkooks ears making him increase his pace as a tentacle around his cock tightened.

His nipples glistened with Namjoons iridescent arousal before one tentacle moved to wrap around his neck. He pulled the tentacle out of Jungkooks mouth.

He let out a loud whine, pre-cum and spit smeared all around the bottom half of his face. Namjoon indulged and rubbed the tentacle over his lips watching him desperately lick every inch he could reach before Namjoon swiped the spit over his flushed cheeks. “Do you like Master making you dirty?”

“Yes, Master.” His sweet voice was so hoarse and beautiful.

Namjoon smirked and traced his drenched tentacle down his torso before prodding at his already full entrance. “I wanna see how much you can take.”

“Anything, Master.” Jungkook closed his eyes feeling both tentacles slosh inside him, unrelenting in their pace, the heat was unbearable. “Give me everything.”

Namjoon pressed a third tentacle into his entrance. God it was tight. He made sure to be a little careful but the thick arousal seeping from him allowed him bury deep inside. The bulge on his belly thickened. He was going to give him exactly what he asked for.

All three thick tentacles fucked into him, one still buried deep keeping him stretched, one feeling him out right up to his stomach before pulling out while the third drilled like he wanted to tear him apart. Jungkook would do nothing but thank him. “A-ah! M-mmaster y-yes!”

Namjoon had raised him from the floor, allowing gravity to keep pulling Jungkook down as he pounded into him. His juices squirt out of him at every thrust, two tentacles working at his pretty cock, stroking him feverishly while the other squeezed his scrotum. The pleasure of using the faerys body overwhelmed him to a point where his limbs trembled in desire.

His moans were shameless, reverberating against the walls and echoing to show how good it felt everywhere. “I-I love it, M-master..” Jungkook whined jerking his hips against the pulsing tendrils, thrusting into him hard that it could split him open, fiery shots of pleasure through his veins. “L-love it wh-when you destroy my h-hole…”

“Yeah?” Namjoon bit down his bottom lip moving the younger male so he could be closer to him. Namjoon hovered over Jungkook letting him rest on the floor against while one of his tentacles brought both his hands pressed over his head. The other moved back to his beautiful mouth stained with spit and sin. “I love destroying my little sweet.” He cooed admiring his little whine.

Jungkook began sucking for dear life, cock tight and pulsing as he felt the tentacles engorge inside him. Namjoon moaned shakily, orgasm hurdling towards the edge as all the tentacles twitched.

The younger cried against the tentacle as the three thrusting inside him began matching the same brutal pace. Body trembling from the thrusts as the tentacles blurred a little from the speed, abusing his sweet spot as tears streamed down his pre-cum stained cheeks. The two tentacles tightened to a death grip on his cock making the strokes harsher. His walls contracted, heat coiling and burning in his lower belly, moans ringing into incessant sobbing muffled against Namjoons tendril, choking him so he could cry more.

He loved it when he cried. Those pleasure infused tears, rainbow hued eyes trying his best to look at him but wanting to close to relish in the unbridled lust.

Tentacles engorged fully as Namjoon felt his body tremble again, heat bursting across his belly and limbs. In thick spurts, his cum coated all over Jungkooks legs and arms, down his chest and torso. That beautiful grown bulge in his belly, filled to the brim with his seed.

His vision blurred as the ecstasy ripped through the seams, hot pleasure ricocheting inside his making him quiver as his skin was painted with a mixture of their cum and completely flooded with Namjoons release. Jungkook swallowed the warm liquid, letting it travel down his throat until his cheeks were full of it.

He waited until his cheeks were completely taut before pulling the tentacle out. Watching the gorgeous iridescent waterfall flowing down his chin before Jungkook licked some off around his lip.

“Such a hungry boy.”

The younger looked down at his protruded belly, tightly full of cum. He let out a pleased hum, caressing over his belly.

“Press it.” Namjoon spoke, a hungry still glinting in his eye.

Jungkook giggled, spreading his legs so the view was perfect enough. Then he pressed gently. Moaning softly as he felt a puddle created under him, iridescent glimmering against the dark wood.

“God, you’re beautiful.” Namjoon noticed the younger reached down and thrust three fingers into his sloppy hole, allowing more of his cum to flow out of him. “Almost don’t want to clean you up.” He chuckled, kissing his knee.

Eventually Namjoon did carry Jungkook over to the shower to get them both cleaned up. The floor now wiped and sanitized before they dropped onto bed with a deep sigh of blissful relaxation.

Jungkook practically purred as he shifted to rest his head on the olders chest. “We can do that all the time…if you want.” He mumbled. “I know it was hard for you to do it on your own.”

“You don’t have to do it for that reason.” Namjoon spoke into his slightly damp hair, fingers brushing down his arm.

“No, no I-I want to do it all the time.” He instinctively tried to hide his face. “Do—do you want to?”

“Always. We can do it all the time…but only if you want it.”

Jungkook smiled up at the male, leaning in and pressing a kiss on his lips. “My Master.” He giggled.

He grinned. “Just Namjoon now.”

The younger bit down his bottom lip, wondering if it was appropriate to say it out loud at all but something jolted in his chest when he did. “My Namjoon.”

Namjoon knew what rainbows were for now. It was joy after darkness. Bliss after gloom. It was Jungkook. Jungkook was Namjoons rainbow. That was all the explanation he ever needed.

#thebtswritersclub #jungkook #namjoon #namkook #bts smut #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #namjoon imagines #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #namjoon fanfic #jungkook smut #namjoon smut #tw: tentacles #tw: smut

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xmalereader · 4 years

Text

Thomas Shelby X Vampire! Male Reader

|| Masterlist ||

This short imagine goes to my friend here!! @fanficsforheartandsoul They had such a wonderful idea that I couldn’t help but write it out! So please enjoy and have fun with the fluffy stuff!

Summary: Reader is a vampire doctor who works with the Shelby family but the Shelby family has no idea that they are friends with a blood thirsty vampire.

Warnings: fluff, bat traits, Thomas knowing everything, blood, gore, and slight angst.

—

“Where are you going?” Thomas asks Polly as he watches her get ready. “What? Now I have to tell you everywhere I go?” She shot back as she fixes her hat and grabs her coat that hung by the door. “I’m going to see Michael, he’s been the hospital for awhile now and I want to make sure that he is recovering properly.” She explains to Thomas as she gives herself one last look in the mirror and turns towards the table to snatch up a small dbrown bag which catches Tommy’s eye. “What’s in the bag?”

Polly rolls her eyes. “Do you have to ask about everything?”

“Just want to be safe, Polly. Michael is in the hospital due to a rival of ours getting to him and I just want to make sure that you are safe. Don’t want to lose anymore family members.” Polly can only sign at Tommy’s words as she turns to face him. “These are just apples for Dr. Hemlock. Heard the young man likes fruits more than anything else—its like the poor man doesn’t eat at all due to him working late hours in the hospital.” She collects her things and sighs. “No wonder he is so pale.” She added before giving Thomas one last look. “Well than, off I go.” She says before leaving the house and heading towards her own car that Thomas had gifted her on one of her birthdays.

Tommy walks over to the window, pulling the curtain back he watches Polly drive away from the house. Once she turned the corner and disappeared down the road that’s when tommy steps away from the window and sighs deeply. “Dr. Hemlock, eh?” He murmurs to himself as he pulls out a cigarette and lights it up. He inhales some of the smoke before blowing it out, tilting his head up as he stares at the ceiling and hums. “I didn’t know vampires ate.”

On the way to the hospital. Polly makes sure to park her car close by, not wanting to park to far out and get into any danger If she were to be around an isolated area where she could easily be taken. She makes sure to take the bag of fruit before entering the hospital.

The Shelbys were known around town that even the hospital knew when a Shelby were to arrive, some of the nurses and doctors feared them since they were the ruthest and most troublesome people to deal with and lets not forget that gangsters are not to be challenged. As Polly walks through the hospital halls, her heels clicked against the hard floor as she makes her way towards Michaels room. Upon entering she sees Dr.Hemlock and Michael arguing.

“I already said that you are not allowed to do that here.”

“It’s just one smoke.” Michael exclaims as Dr. Hemlock shakes his head and sighs deeply. “Smoking can worsen your conditions—“

“I’m feeling better!”

Dr. Hemlock frowns and wacks Micheal behind the head with a folder. “Do not interupt me!” He says, glaring at the son of Polly Grey.

“Please don’t hit my son too hard, he can get a concussion.” Said Polly as she butts into the conversation that the other two were having. To be honest she wasn’t really upset about the doctors actions. He was doing his job which is to keep micheal healthy and to make sure that he is recovering from his wounds. “Miss Grey.” Said Dr. Hemlock as he give her a kind smile.

Polly still hasn’t gotten used to the doctors kind personality. It was strange seeing someone warm up to the Shelby family so quickly and without fearing them. Every time someone in town heard the name ‘Shelby’ they would run away in fear, but not this man. This man was different and it frightened Polly.

“I see that you ar scolding Michael once again, Doctor.” She says as she approaches the two once she had dropped her things on the small table that was in the large room.

“He should know better when it comes to smoking in the hospital, it’s not safe for our patients and it could also damage his wounds—and please call me Y/n.” Polly chuckles. “Very well y/n.” She says as she stand next to him and shows him the bag. “I got you something as a thank you for taking care of—not only my son but also the rest of my boys.” Y/n accepts the small offering and looks inside the bag, his eyes widening as he takes out one of the apples. “Thank you Polly, I haven’t had much time to eat but I’ll make sure to enjoy these as much as possible.” He puts the apple back inside the bag and turns towards micheal. “Very well, micheal is slowly getting there but we need him to stay a little longer, still need to make sure that he is healing properly and safe for him to return home but for now you may spend as much time as you want here.” He explains to Polly who gives him a nod. “thank you, again.” She repeats before turning towards micheal who was glaring at the doctor btu y/n ignores his glare and gives the two a fake smile before leaving the room.

Y/n has been working in the hospital for as long as he can remember, being immortal stressed him out. Having to see people that he knew grow old and die away, brings back the doubts and fears of him being lonely forever, but so far he has gained some friends. He’s gotten closer to the nurses in the hospital and would have small conversations with them whenever he has the time and he has slowly gotten closer to the Shelby family. The first time he met them was when Arthur got shot in the shoulder during one of their bar fights. The family quickly took him to the hospital where y/n could be the only one to help out the older brother. The Shelby family were stubborn people on that day, that he had to yell and kick them out of the room. He couldn’t concentrate with all the yelling and arguing that he had to throw out the family until Arthur was taken care of.

Y/n’s actions shocked the doctors and nurses. Everyone in town knows to never argue with a Shelby and that’s exactly what y/n did. Not only did her kick out Thomas Shelby but he also kicked out the entire family! He remembers the nurses murmuring about him and saying how they would pray for him to be okay once Thomas Shelby confronted him about his actions, but y/n wasn’t too worried. He’s dealt with worse things in his past life.

On that same day, Thomas Shelby had approached him and he expected the man to yell at him and to tell him to never disprespect his family like that again. But instead he got a simple thank you from the man before leaving to see his brother. Y/n was very confused that day, wondering as too why Thomas didn’t yell at him or let alone shot him right there and then. That’s because Y/n’s actions had gotten Thomas attention, causing the man to observe him during Arthur’s recovery and to figuring out who y/n really was.

Thomas found out about y/n being a vampire during one of his visits with Arthur. He remembers Thomas searching for him, wanting to ask how his brother was doing and if he would be return home anytime soon. He had searched the entry hospital and found no sign of the doctor, he had asked a few nurses if they have seemed him and they all told him the same thing.

“Dr. Hemlock usually heads home during these hours for a small break.”

Thomas can only scoff at the nurses words.

He once asked for Y/n’s home address but none of the staff members knew where he lived and had no information about his living space. This only caused suspicious to grow inside of Thomas as he leaves the hospital by taking the back doors, leading him exactly to Y/n.

He had found y/n hiding in the alley way, eating rats.

Thomas had witnessed y/n snatching up one of the rats that roamed around the alleys, gripping it in his hand as he stares at it with cold eyes as he slowly kills the small rodent. At first Thomas thought that he was some crazy sociopath but what he saw next was way worse. As he watached y/n from around the corner—the doctor could only stare at the dead rodent, bringing it close to his lips as he opens his mouth to reveal a pair of fangs that sunk into the rodent as he eats away.

That was the first time ever, Thomas felt real fear.

“I seemed to have found a lonely bat.”

Y/n looks up from his apple only to see Thomas standing at the other end of the alley. “Shelby.” He says back as he goes back to eating and leans back against the wall as Thomas approaches the younger male.

“Question.” He says, causing the other to raise a brow at him. “I thought vampires only drank blood, so how come your eating an apple?”

Y/n chuckles and shakes his head. “Not all vampires are like in your bedtime stories. Not every vampire drinks blood, some of us still have a bit of human inside and we enjoy the smaller things—for example;” he holds the apple up to show Thomas as he takes a bite.

“Some of us like fruit while other prefer to hunt and kill innocent people.” He replies back as he chews on his apple and swallows it down, smiling at the delicious feeling of being able to eat something that he really likes.

“What about blood?”

“What about it?”

“I thought that was the only thing you needed in order to survive?” Thomas stands next to him and leans back against the wall as he pulls out a cigerette to smoke.

Y/n sighs. “Some of us can last days, even months without blood since some vampires know how to control there hunger, just like me.” he says softly. “But your a doctor, your surrounded by blood for 24 hours straight, how come you don’t lose control?” The doctor didn’t know if he should ignore Thomas questions but also can’t help but explain to him how his species worked.

“The reason why I can control myself around patients is because I’m used to the smell of blood. I can smell it anywhere and everywhere that I have grown used to being around it but, some vampire can lose control by a simple drop and that’s because they don’t schedule out there meals.” He begins to explain as Thomas listen carefully.

Thomas has know about y/n being a vampire for almost a year now but he too doesn’t know very much about them. His mother would tell him stories about monster like them and how they are vicious creatures who only eat as they desire. He was a young boy around that time that he feared easily, but his mother always told him that they were stories and never true.

Maybe she was wrong the whole time.

“I schedule my meals every week, I tend to eat a current amount of blood that can last me up to a month. So that way I don’t have to starve myself and lose control. Some vampires can’t keep control that they go into a rampage, going from town to town. Devouring anything that crossed there paths—those are meant to be killed. They have lost their human side and shouldn’t be roaming around freely.” He explains to Thomas.

Thomas was always curious about y/n’s kind and hearing this new Information finally helped him understand as too why Y/n can work as a doctor without having to lose control. As he thinks about that another question suddenly pops into mind. He turns his head to see y/n eating the apple in silence as he blurts out another question. “Have you ever killed another human due to hunger?

He noticed y/n freeze, gripping the fruit right in his hand as he lowers it away from his mouth. “Once.” He answers back as he turns to give Thomas a glance. “I was just a teenager, I had no one to teach me how to control myself that I had to learn on my own...” he looks away from Thomas and sighs through his nose. “She was a mother of three—“

Thomas pushes himself off the wall as he stares at y/n.

“I saw her at the market and she was alone, buying food for her kids and husband...I was alone at that time so I used to steal rations from people. I am able to eat some human foods In order to survive but eating to much could cause a deep hunger from the lack of blood.” He stares at his apple and tosses it away. “I cornered her on the way home and tried to take her food but I hesitated. Not because I couldn’t, but because I could hear the blood pumping inside her body.” Y/n hated explaining this part but he trusted Thomas and Thomas trusted him. The two have secrets of there own that only they can share between eachother.

“I lost control and attacked her...I remember telling myself to only take a small amount but once the first drop of blood touched my lips I couldn’t help myself, so I drained her and took every ounce of blood she had inside her.” He pushes hismelf off the wall and tosses the empty bag away in the garbage, making his way back towards the back door that allowed him back inside the hospital.

Before he could head inside he looks over his shoulder to see Thomas standing behind him with a concerned look on his face.

“I became a monster that day and I wish to never become one again.” He added as he swings the door open and heads inside, he takes his coat and slips it on and takes his files. Heading back to work as usual.

Thomas, who stayed behind, can’t help but question himself as to why he decided to befriend the vampire.

Was it because he was lonely?

Or that maybe he was slowly growing a liking towards the man?

He can only shrug to himself as he puts out his cigerette and blows out the last bit of smoke that he inhaled. “I can’t be falling for a man who had died many years ago.” He tells hismelf as he chuckles. “Polly won’t be too happy once she finds out who y/n really is.” With that he enters the hospital to go see his Aunt Polly and cousin Micheal.

#Thomas Shelby x male reader #male reader #peaky blinders x male reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders #vampire reader #vampire male reader #crossover #AU #Thomas Shelby

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olivinesea · 3 years

Text

In the Golden Dark

a/n: Having never done any ship writing before I’m just going to jump feet first into the deep end with a little Hotchreid for you today. It’s nice. No warnings except maybe some angst because we are who we are. Probably the softest thing you will see from me so enjoy the moment. Completely unnecessary disclaimer that I would find this relationship wildly inappropriate in real life but thank god we’re out here in the lawless fiction of the internet. And you’re getting full on song lyrics bc Hotchreid is nothing if not decadent af. There’s more but I’m impatient so here’s the first bit. ~ 2.7k

what the hell am I doing here in the golden dark? feeling like I’m someone else who looks the part I built up barricades to block my heart cause I don’t wanna fear you

He leaned back in his chair, reaching his arms up and clasping his hands behind his head, arching his back slightly. With his eyes closed it could be any time of day. He inhaled deeply and pretended for a moment that he was nowhere. He even gave himself a few extra seconds, indulging in the quiet that was the office at night. If only he could feel so peaceful in the right moments—before sleeping perhaps. When he opened his eyes all he could see was the reflection of his office light in the black windows. There hadn’t been daylight for hours. He’d switched off the overhead lights in favor of the small desk lamp that pooled the light only in the area of immediate relevance. Everything beyond its reach faded in and out of existence as his focus fell deeply into the forms in front of him.

He pressed his elbows back as far as they would go, pulling up slightly on the base of his skull, stretching out a day’s worth of stress, countless hours spent bent over report after report. He never could have imagined that saving people would require so much paperwork. Reducing the chaos of the lived experience, the searches and the takedowns, the intricate patterns of dozens of personalities layering choices upon one another; it turned out to be quite difficult to do. It took him hours to wrap up cases, even with everyone doing most of their own reports. Which, through no fault of their own, wasn’t always the case. He usually ended up siphoning off a fair number of those reports in addition to his own.

He didn’t mind, he needed to go over everything, needed to make sure that any possible negative feedback that came back would fall to him and he would be prepared if it did. His team were his responsibility, he would be neglecting his duties if he didn’t ensure that things were handled properly. None of them needed the headache of administrative errors. He was good with details, good with forms, good with protocol. He would happily be the filter that saved them all the trouble of little errors even if it hadn’t been part of his job.

But that didn’t change the fact that it was eleven o’clock on a Wednesday and everyone else had gone home hours ago. Only the late night janitorial staff wandered in and out occasionally, nodding at him in silent greeting as they reset the offices to give the illusion of an endlessly renewable supply of fresh starts. People that didn’t stay late never gave this transformation a second thought. They left the office with full trashcans and small debris scattered on the old carpets, only to return the next morning to find a place untouched by human presence, metal fixtures shining and glass doors free of oily fingerprints. That was just how the world worked for them, generous with new beginnings. People who lingered knew better, that effort was put into the effect. Beginnings were never easy, never flowed so inevitably as the set and rise of the sun.

Hotch had been working late for many years, long before he was even in the BAU. He had learned in law school how to brew the coffee strong enough to stay up all night if need be. How the indoor lighting changed without the support of daylight, tinting the world a thin sickly green color without the natural light to round out the fluorescence. He only got worse about it once he joined the Bureau, the stress of the job causing old habits and old secrets to float to the surface. He compensated by working the hardest, doing the most, never allowing anyone to see him need things that other people needed. He could handle this job, this was all he ever wanted after all. To save the world. Or maybe, more modestly, to save the world of a few.

Now, with Haley gone, Jack with her, somewhere well out of his disastrous reach, there was no reason at all not to fully give in. No reason not to let his insomnia at least be productive. To let the latent self destruction that fueled his actions at least have a positive impact on the people he cared about. He could do that at least.

He rubbed his face with his hands, he was getting loopy. There was no reason to be letting his mind wander so far, there were still reports he could get through. Perhaps, as unlikely as the idea felt, he could even get ahead. He looked back down at the paperwork, letting his feet settle flat on the floor. The letters swam in front of him and he sighed, rolling his pen beneath his thumb, considering. He could probably make it another hour. He could get another pot of coffee into himself. He cast about for his mug, finding it empty on the shelf behind him. He sometimes kept it there to prevent his reports from acquiring telltale dark rings. Rolling back from the desk, he hooked the handle with two fingers and headed out to the kitchenette.

Wrapped up in making plans for what he could finish tonight and what could be left for the morning he was startled to find a light still on in the bullpen. He was certain everyone had gone home long ago. They’d each passed by his office, offering him an out as they made their ways home—perhaps their exit could be the motivation he needed to break out of his office, to head towards his own home. What they didn’t realize was that home was not better for him. Work was far better, far safer, with tasks to complete, a purpose. If he was smart he would stay at work forever.

So he waved to them as they checked out, giving them small smiles that, though imperceptible to strangers, they recognized as both apologies and well-wishes. He knew they worried, that they didn’t like to see him tied to his desk late into the night. They thought it was one of his many methods for making himself suffer but he didn’t have the heart to tell them that this was him making a good decision, this was him trying his very best. In his experience, nothing good happened at home.

He thought he remembered everyone leaving, each goodbye. But every day was the same and they all bled together so he must have missed one because he cannot deny the light down below. As he walked down the stairs, confused by the discovery that he was not as alone as he had been imagining, his tired vision focused better. He could make out dark blond curls and a darker sweater hunched over the desk in the middle of the room.

“Reid?” The name came out as a croak, he hadn’t spoken in hours and probably hadn’t had any water in that time period either. He cleared his throat and said it again, louder and closer to the other man than before. Reid’s head snapped up, expression as guilty as a child caught out of bed.

“S-sorry,” he stuttered, eyes wide.

Hotch frowned, not because he was upset but because he was still a little disoriented and his muscles fell back into the most familiar actions.

“I—“ Reid ducked his head and started pushing papers together on his desk, shoving them haphazardly into a file folder. “I was just…” he trailed off, not really having intended on explaining himself. He was simply also startled and reverting to the familiar.

Reid explained compulsively, able to handle the world when parsed down to facts and numbers. He didn’t have a fact for why he had stayed so late, only a feeling and that he didn’t know how to explain. Nights had been particularly lonely recently so he had allowed himself to stay later and later, getting lost in his thoughts at his work desk. Even without people around there was a sense of occupancy, their faint impressions lingering in the air. Plus there was always Hotch up in his office. He didn’t actively think about him or what he was doing but he liked knowing the man was nearby. Hotch’s solid presence always made him feel more secure, less concerned with whatever might jump out at him from the shadows overlapping the world and his mind.

He couldn’t tell Hotch that, was far too embarrassed to admit that sometimes, even with all the lights on, it was too dark in his apartment. No matter the illumination, he couldn’t quite dispel the unease of the night when he was alone. It wasn’t always like this, sometimes he had enough brightness to spare. Recently, however, things had been hard. So much had been going on, he couldn’t quite pinpoint why but he knew he felt uneasy. Too much had changed, there was too much risk that the floor could still fall out beneath him at any moment. And it hadn’t been so long since he’d escaped the consequences of his kidnapping, his addiction, that he trusted himself to be able to manage too much more uncertainty. Backsliding was always a risk and right now the world tilted at a frightening grade. So he let himself stay late in the safety of familiarity, sometimes working but more often not, idly rereading the books he had brought in and forgotten around the office. Tonight he had actually started to doze off, which contributed to his shock upon being discovered.

Hotch continued to frown at him, watching as the thoughts raced across Spencer’s face. He noticed how deep the shadows were beneath his eyes, the way darkness pooled in the space below his cheekbones, as if they were concave impressions filled by seawater. He knew Spencer didn’t eat enough, was all too familiar with the ways too much coffee and not enough calories pinched the skin and exposed the fine lines of capillaries beneath the surface.

“Sorry,” Spencer repeated.

He looked genuinely ashamed and it made Hotch a little sad. Couldn’t Spencer see that he was just as guilty of whatever it was he thought he was doing wrong by being here? He made a conscious effort to soften his expression, to show the warmth he felt for the younger man. After having spent his entire life masking his emotions, protecting himself one of the only ways he could, it wasn’t always easy to show his affection. Especially not at this time of night, when all he could do was cling to his walls and hope to find himself still on solid ground when the sun rose. Spencer wasn’t looking at him, too caught up in his own maze.

“Let’s go get something to eat,” Hotch said, trying a different tactic. He was smart, he knew not to make it a demand or a comment on Spencer’s health. It was only an invitation, firm enough for Spencer to know he meant it, that it was not just a pleasantry or an obligation he’d rather avoid. A hand extended, an offer of easy company to pass through a little more of this unwanted time. Spencer looked up from where his fingers were worrying at the corner of the file in front of him and smiled shyly. Hotch smiled back, a real smile that scrunched up his dark shining eyes.

“Give me five minutes to close up,” he said and turned back toward his office. As he packed his briefcase, his heart felt like it had been wrapped in a soft blanket. He didn’t bother questioning it—who didn’t like finding someone to commiserate with when they’d only expected more of the lonely dark?

Their late night meals became a regular occurrence. Not every night but once, maybe twice a week, they found themselves the last ones in the office. They fell into a rhythm, each learning to read more from the other’s subtle cues. They almost always went to the same place, a 24-hour diner near the office with deceptively strong coffee and a seemingly endless variety of pancakes. Hotch rarely ordered food, though he encouraged Reid to get anything he wanted. He accepted bites of whatever the younger man ordered, happy enough to reciprocate the excitement over strawberry rhubarb or cinnamon blueberry pancakes.

They talked about inconsequential things, mostly Hotch listening as Reid spun out information on whatever topic was on his mind that day. Reid, for his part, made mental note of the things Hotch responded to and had opinions on. Spencer sought out more information in that vein to bring up. He loved to talk, sure, but what he loved more was to discuss. During the day there was rarely time to let his thoughts wander so freely. It was a dream to have someone there, following along and challenging him with questions, building up new conclusions.

On the nights that followed difficult days, when they were both too stubborn to order anything of substance, they drank their coffees and avoided looking at each other too directly. Those nights they were both tied up in their own thoughts, islands separated by more than just distance, but there was something undeniably pulling them together. It was probably just the natural consequence of having opposite dominant sides but they mirrored each other perfectly across the table. Once, they both happened to reach for their mugs at the same time and the backs of their hands brushed against each other. They each noticed but responded differently. Hotch repressed any reaction, pretending the quick touch of bony knuckles and cool skin hadn’t registered. Maybe it hadn’t. Reid, on the other hand, jumped as if shocked, sloshing the hot coffee into a puddle on the table. This only flustered him more and he yelped at the sting of the liquid and the sting of embarrassment. It wasn’t like they’d never touched before. But here, in this nowhere time they’d constructed, it felt different. In his mind that brief touch became nails dragging across his skin, impossible to ignore. But he pretended the mug was too hot and Hotch didn’t argue, quick to assist with napkins and sounds of agreement to accompany Spencer’s half-coherent excuses.

When their meals were done, mostly cleaned plates of syrup and crumbs stacked to one side, they hesitated before standing up. Hotch always offered to give Reid a ride home, Reid always declined, insisting he could get there himself. This led to Hotch giving him a doubtful look and insisting that it was no trouble. Reid, secretly wanting a ride the whole time, struggled to argue for his self-sufficiency a little longer before giving in. It became a silly thing, both of them knowing exactly how the argument ended but they held onto it for some reason. It was a part of their ritual now, an important piece of the night. It kept this, whatever this was, contained, strictly occasional, random even. Not something they planned for, not something they looked forward to.

Hotch waited for Spencer to get in the door of his building before driving away. He knew it wasn’t necessary, Spencer was a grown man and a trained FBI agent with a weapon. Still, it made him feel better to see him safely inside. Sometimes he thought he would feel even better if he could walk Spencer all the way to his front door. But he knew that would be asking too much. As it was, the nights when they shared this extra hour or two together, extended further by the drive home, had been giving him more than he could have imagined. He wouldn’t dare impose himself further. The brittle excuse of safety would crumble if he were to start following the other man inside. He was not ready to find out what that would mean. He smiled unconsciously as he drove to his apartment. For now, it was enough that he had found companionship on these late nights when he would otherwise be slowly, meticulously, working his way into the grave.

~Part 2~

#Criminal Minds #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #hotchreid #beginnings

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3mmafr0st · 3 years

Text

Remember Me Part 2

Previous Part <——-->Next Part

Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: SMUT and everything that comes with it, Talk of death and murder, violence, guns, brainwashing, sleazy billionaires (eat the rich)

A/N: I have had so much fun with this, give your opinions in the comments

They lied, there was no new mission tomorrow. I stayed locked in that dark little cell that they called my room. It was somewhat comfortable, they had to keep me Poole that so I would be able to keep myself in peak shape. A soldier is no good if they’re sick and in pain. There were sparse books, guides like The Art of War, or the vile words of Mein Kampf. I didn’t like the second one at all. The views were absolutely disgusting, but It made some sort of sense that it was there. I remember vaguely hearing about how Hydra was part of Nazi Germany. Although I couldn’t quite remember what that was, I knew it was bad, because that was what the book itself was about.

The walls were made of cement, the floors lined with corrugated metal. There was a metal bed frame in the corner, with a mattress, pillow, and blanket. Just enough to keep me comfortable. There was a desk in the other corner, simple metal table and chair, but nothing on it or in it. It was simply a place to fill out my mission reports. In the back was a door that lead to a small shower, toilet, and sink. Finally, a punching bag hung from the ceiling on the same side as the bed. I had been in this room for so long that I had memorized every inch of it.

It was difficult to tell how long I had been in here. The only clue to how long was the wall of carved tally marks, at least 20,000, give or take. They never actually gave me a calendar or anything to keep track of time, instead, I tracked it on mealtimes.

It had been about three weeks this time, complete with twenty two new tallies added to the wall. They pulled me out of the room after breakfast, restraining me by walking me with each of my arms held still. I had hope that he would be on this assignment, and as the door opened, a wave of relief hit me. My expression stayed stoic, unreadable. His face was the same, no emotion, no hint of what he did or did not remember. I was pushed into the seat next to him. He didn’t look at me, simply looking forward at the metal desk in front of us.

Pierce finally walked in the door. This must be a high profile mission if he’s here. Two folders were placed in front of us. We each opened our respective files, detailing the mission, even though Pierce began to explain.

“The two of you will be going on and undercover find and kill mission. You will be attending a charity gala for Rosenthal Industries, a former business partner of ours. Caleb Rosenthal will be attending the event. Your job is to get him alone, inject him with the neuro-agent, and make sure he’s dead. Your covers are listed in the file.” I nodded that I understood the mission, and so did Bucky.

The two of us were monitored during the car ride. We were meant to stay in the back while someone else drove the car. The entire ride was silent, the two of us trading glances at each other as we went over our respective files.

We were yet again set up as a couple, but we were meant to have some sort of agreement, an open marriage sort of situation. They were sending me to seduce the young Rosenthal, and get him alone. It was something that I had done millions of times it felt, but this mission was different. There was a more important objective at play, escape.

The minute we were given a room, we looked everywhere, analyzing and checking every item of the room for bugs or cameras. Once we confirmed there were none, I walked over to Bucky.

“What do you remember?” I asked, looking him dead in the eyes. I watched as the facade melted away from his face, the emotionless and cold look being replaced with a smile and adoring eyes.

I pulled his face down to me, pressing my lips to his. I tried to keep control, but it didnt last for long, as an arm snaked around my waist, the cold metal pushing up my shirt slightly to make contact with my skin. I gasped from the sensation, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

I felt the strain in my lungs, and broke the kiss, looking right back up at him.

“I know its been three weeks, but we only have three hours till the charity gala, and we both have to look presentable.” An idea popped into his head evident by the smirk appearing on his face.

“I mean, we definitely should take a shower first,” He said, hands moving up and down my sides.

“It’s probably a bad idea, but you are too good to pass up.” I yelped as my legs were sweeped out under me, Bucky carrying me through the air into the hotel bathroom.

Since we had to have a higher profile for this mission, the hotel room was much nicer than usual. The biggest excitement had to be the massive shower, more than big enough for the two of us. He put me down on the marble sink countertop, practically ripping his suit jacket and shirt off. My hands reached for his chest as he began to undo the buttons on my maroon dress shirt. Once the offending fabric was gone, he moved on to the rest of my clothing, ridding the both of us of any clothing that we had been wearing.

I whined at the cold as he left to go and start the shower, making sure that it was the right temperature. I didn’t want to wait for him to come back over to me, so I walked over to the shower, wrapping my arms around him from behind as he tested the water. I wanted to stay like that forever, simply cuddling myself into his back, the warmth of his body in contact with my cold skin. He began to turn and face me, and i loosened my grip so I could keep my arms around him.

“Doll, are you going to let go or are the two of us going to have to shuffle out way into the shower?” I pouted, but complied as he pulled me into the deliciously hot water.

“I missed you so much, Y/N,” His hands grazed their way down and up me like they did before. I tangled my hand into Bucky’s hair, pulling his lips onto mine. I had no patience at this point, and neither did he, the kiss rough and passionate as I was backed into the wall of the shower. His mouth began to move from my mouth, trailing lower and lower. I felt the warmth of his tongue swirling around my nipple, and a gasp broke free from my lips. The smooth of his metal fingers toyed with the other, making me throw my head back into the tile of the shower.

“Fuck, keep makin those noises, doll.” His mouth moved away, trailing even lower, leaving kisses on my hips. He looked up at me, his eyes once again scanning mine for any hint of hesitation. Even through everything, he was still so kind, so sweet and concerned for me, it made me fall in love with him all over again. I was so distracted by my own sappy thoughts, that Bucky got the jump on me, licking one broad stripe up my pussy, nearly knocking the wind out of my lungs with how much I needed him. My hands flew to his hair, tangling into the long locks and pulling him closer. He moaned, sending vibrations straight to my clit, which only made me cry out and pull harder.

“Fuck, Bucky, please!” I could feel that knot that continued to tighten in my stomach. My hips began to try and move on their own, but Bucky’s hands pinned me to the tile wall so I couldn’t. I was pulled out of my trance as I felt two cold fingers slip inside of me.

I screamed his name out as his fingers began curling and pressing against the sweet spot inside of me, the combination of both his mouth and his fingers finally pushing me over the edge.

Buck held me down, helping me through my orgasm, holding my hips so I wouldn’t fall, and licking up every drop of my cum until he was satisfied. He finally stood up, making sure to hold me up so my legs wouldn’t give out from under me, his flesh hand pushing my chin up so he could look at me. My hands reached out to grab his cock, wanting him to get something out of this too, but he pushed them away.

“Not today, Doll, we gotta actually shower now, like you said, remember?” I groaned, but I knew that he was right. We had a mission to prepare for, and a plan to enact. Still holding me up, he moved me into the jets of water coming from the shower head. The hot water hit the back of my neck nicely, as Bucky squeezed out some of the soap into my hand. It felt like his hands were everywhere, assisting me with washing every bit and piece of me. Once I was finally able to stand on my own, he moved to get the shampoo, telling me to turn around and step out of the water.

He stood behind me, his hands in my hair, making sure that every single bit had been properly shampooed. I couldn’t help but sigh as his fingers worked the bubbles into the roots of my hair. Once he was finished, I stepped back under the water, as he aided in the washing away of all the shampoo and suds for one last time before the two of us switched places.

Although I knew that we had to go quickly, we, more like I, needed the time to get ready for the gala, but how could I not take the chance that I had been given to enjoy what he looked like, being able to simply move my hands over his chest, spreading the now foamy soap across his body. I moved my hands across every part of him, making sure he was perfectly clean for the gala. Once I got to putting the shampoo in his hair, I noticed a bit of a problem. Although I wasn’t the shortest person in the world, Bucky was still much taller than me, which created a bit of an obstacle when trying to wash his hair. I got up on the balls of my feet in order to reach the top of his head, collecting all of his hair in my hands to make sure everything was washed and clean. I felt as his muscles relax, as if he didn’t even know that they had been tensed, as my fingers worked at his scalp. If I wasn’t allowed to touch him in the way that I wanted, I would make him feel good in any way I could. He turned back around and into the water, rinsing all of the shampoo out of his hair.

I looked in front of the large mirror that lined one side of the bathroom. As I looked at myself, my thoughts wandered away from me. In all the time that I had been a soldier, the only women that I had ever come in contact with were doctors and nurses whenever I would get hurt on the job. They were extra careful with me, maybe it was because my face was valuable, or some bullshit like that. Other than that, I had never once seen a woman in any facility I had been in. I thought about this as I looked at myself, as the supplies and wardrobe given for me for the mission simply could not have been picked out by the type of men that I had met as a soldier. The makeup was high quality, clearly expensive, with perfect matches in color and shade in comparison to both my skin tone and the dress that I was given. The floor length black dress hugged my body in just the right way while also hiding the shiny silver of my leg. My hair was styled and put up and out of my way, both appropriate for the situation and the mission. I smiled at this woman that I did not recognize in the mirror. This was not me, this was Rose Castellan. I liked her, she wasn’t turned into a soldier against her will, experimented on and tortured for as long as she can remember.

I turned around, breaking away from my little pity party to see Bucky behind me, clearly struggling with his hair and tie.

“Help?” He looked so confused, and I smiled. I knew he didn’t tend to go on these types of missions, at least never by himself. He always struggled with his metal arm and trying to tie his tie, as well as never knowing what to do with his hair.

“Sit down, I’ll help with your hair first.” He sat in the chair that I had pulled into the bathroom from the desk. He complied as I began to fix his hair.

“So, any new memories in the last few days?” I asked, picking up the hairbrush and pulling it through his hair to get out all of the knots and tangles.

“There’s this one name that keeps repeating itself in my head, Steve. I know it’s important, I just can’t quite put my finger on who it is or why they are important.” I nodded, noting the information in my head.

“I am having the same situation. There’s a B rattling around, and I can’t quite get the rest of the word, but the B is there.” My hands gathered as much hair as I could in my hands, pulling it up to the top of the back of his head. “I have some parts that are solid progressions of time, but then it simply stops, sometimes for months, other times for years, is that like that for you?”

“Yeah, I can remember some missions that come in order, but then it just stops, and then starts back up later.”

“They really did a number on us the last time it worked when the tried to fry us, I could have sworn that I knew where all that time was going.” I pulled the elastic from my wrist, pulling it over the bundle of hair that I had gathered into a small top knot that kept his hair out of his eyes. His eyes scanned over his reflection in the mirror, clearly not used to the different look.

“Did I do ok”

“Of course, doll, just going to take a bit of getting used to.”

“You know you don’t need to keep it.”

“Yeah, but I liked it when you did it.” My eyes drifted to the ground for a moment as a blush spread over my face.

Bucky stood up from his chair, standing facing towards me. Taking the tie in my hands, I moved the fabric in and out of itself until it formed the knot that it was meant to. Finishing it off, I buttoned the front of his jacket, completing the look.

Glancing over at the clock, I saw that it was almost time to go. Luckily enough, we didn’t have to get into another car with another random driver, the Rosenthal Building was right next to our hotel.

“So what’s the plan for tonight?” He asked, as the two of us began to get our things together to leave.

“After we complete the objective, instead of returning to the hotel and checking in with Pierce for extraction, we disappear, find somewhere off the grid that we can hide out for a little while so we can recover more memories,”

“Sounds like a good idea, we can’t plan too far ahead, we weren’t given schematics of the building or anything.” We looked at each other, nodding, before he offered his arm out to me, escorting me out of the hotel room.

I picked up a drink off of the small tray that was held by one of the servers in the ballroom. I thanked him, and Bucky did the same. Swirling my finger in my drink, I looked at the polish on my fingernail to see if it had changed color. It hadn’t. The drinks were clean.

The room was exactly how you would expect, with the fanciest furniture and decorations that money could buy, the guests all in the finest and most up to date fashion, everyone talking about their recent business ventures and lavish trips around the globe. There was an anger burning in me, but I had no idea where it came from. The two of us scanned the room, looking for the target.

I looked over to see the target, Caleb Rosenthal. He was young, maybe in his mid twenties, with a pretty face and a lot of money. It was clear to see that this man had never met any sort of opposition or struggle in his life, always given everything he had ever wanted. I looked at Bucky for a sort of confirmation that I should start, and he nodded. Taking a deep breath, I walked over to the small group that Rosenthal had been talking to. I sauntered over, getting his attention.

“And who might you be?” His voice was unbearable, the entitlement and ego dripping off of his words.

“Rose Castellan of Castellan and Stowe Law, we haven’t met formally.”

“I would have remembered a face like yours, what’s your deal?”

“We mainly work in company lawsuits. We’re the guys that save your ass if you do something everyone will regret.” He laughed at the comment, before shooing the rest of the crowd around him away.

“Would you like to dance?” He offered his hand to me, and I smiled sweetly at him, taking it as he led me to the dance floor. His hands were sweaty and wet, but I suffered through it. The two of us danced for a while as the soft and slow music played in the background. I glanced over to see Bucky watching us with a laser stare.

“So who’s the guy?” Rosenthal asked, gesturing towards Bucky.

“My husband, but don’t worry about him.”

“Oh, and why is that?” His voice had that air of suggestiveness to it that made me want to throw up in my mouth. I leaned into him, getting my face close to his ear.

“Let’s just say the two of us have a bit of an arrangement,” I made the underlying tone of the sentence all the more apparent as I moved his hand lower down my back to rest on my ass. He looked surprised at how forward I was being, but it didn’t take long for him to lean into my ear.

“Let’s get out of here.”

“Lead the way.” Rosenthal took my hand and began to lead me away from the party.

The two of us walked the hallways, as Caleb tried to find an appropriate room in his own building. I looked behind me, and in the darkness of the hallway, hidden well by the shadows lurked Bucky, watching to make sure that nothing would go too far.

Once he found an office that he deemed suitable, he swung the door open, looking both ways down the hall before opening the door and letting me walk in. He locked the door behind him, and his lips were on mine, pushing me into the desk. I sat myself on the desk as he began to move his gross and sloppy kisses down my neck. I pulled the small patch out of the secret pockets of the dress, perfectly designed. As I moved my hand around his neck, I pressed the patch into his skin, watching as the material disappeared into his flesh.

It only took moments for the toxin to hit him. He stumbled backwards from me, holding his head in pain, uttering a weak “I don’t feel so good,” before hitting the floor. I checked the man’s pulse, confirming his death, before stepping over the body and unlocking the door. Bucky was on the other side, waiting for me.

“He’s dead?”

“Are you really going to question it? I know what I’m doing!” I said, punching him in the shoulder, the attempt at comedy trying to cut the edge of the situation.

“Let’s go.” Bucky began walking down the hallway behind me, as we tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. There was always a garage door when it comes to facilities like this, and thats what we were going to go to, getting into the elevator and pressing the buttons for the ground floor.

Once the doors closed, Bucky pulled me in and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips, soft and sweet, a comfort.

“What was that for?”

“I just want to make sure I did that, no matter what happens.”

“Nothing is going to happen, this is the perfect plan.”

That was when the elevator doors opened into the ground floor, and a man was standing there. He nodded to us, before getting into the elevator as we got out. The two of us looked for some sort of lab, anything labeled as such. I couldn’t believe how lax the security was, but I didn’t say anything, that wasn’t our concern. Finally we found where we needed to be, a large garage, that opened up. I opened the door as Bucky watched for people around us. The entire situation felt off, like this was too easy.

Suddenly, agents began bursting in through the doors, none of which I recognized. I looked to Bucky, and he simply yelled, “Run!”

I did as I was told, sliding underneath the door and running into the street, witnesses everywhere as I ran as far as I could. People looked confused, and understandably so, a girl dressed like a debutante running through the city as fast as she can in heels. My heart pounded in my chest, as I kept looking behind me for Bucky, where was Bucky? He had to have made it out, he was a better soldier than me, he was a stronger soldier than me.

20 blocks, at least, thats how far I ran, before I finally stopped. I took so many turns that they would have had to have lost them, but there was no Bucky. I waited in that spot for a little while , an alleyway occupied by a small population of homeless people.

Bucky had to have gotten out, he had to. He just must have gone a different way, yes, that’s it! He had to have just taken a different route, ended up in a different part of the city. We would find each other later.

I looked down to what I was wearing, the clothing too distinctive. I scanned my surroundings, seeing a girl, roughly my age and size. I went up to her, surprising her slightly.

“Hey, do you think I could trade clothes with you?” She looked at me funny for a second, but then quickly nodded. The two of us walked into the privacy that the shadows of the alley provided, shucking layers of clothing off of us, trading what one had for the other.

As I zipped up the sweatshirt and jeans given to me, I looked at the girl, still confused and concerned as to why I had asked her to take the clothing.

“You’re gonna be able to get at least 2,000 for this at a pawn shop, don’t let it get damaged before the morning unless you plan on keeping it.” Her eyes went wide with excitement and nodded, going back to the corner that she had come from.

I left the alleyway, and once again began to move, trying to find a different place to camp out for the night. I had no money, so a hotel was out of the question, and it wasn’t as if I knew anyone that I could stay with.

I was lucky that one of the things that I had gotten real good at during my training, was pickpocketing. No one was the wiser, as I moved flawlessly on the streets, anyone who dared walk next to me was subject to the loss of their wallet. I continued like this until I found myself another homeless camp, huddling in with the mass of smelly bodies.

I turned to one of the people huddled around a small fire, warming his hands. “What city is this?”

“We’re in New York, you really must have taken something strong.”

#Bucky Barnes #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x banner!reader #bucky barnes imagine #winter soldier smut #winter solider imagine #Winter Soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter solider fanfiction #smut #marvel #marvel smut #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic

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memes-in-a-half-shell · 3 years

Text

Business AU - Working Late, Part 9

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8

Let’s fuck things up a bit, shall we?

She woke up peacefully, the soft warmth of the early sun washing over her naked body tangled in the bedsheets. As she stretched her limbs, she found herself to be alone in bed, lazily reaching for her glasses on the nightstand nearby only so she could have a clearer view of her surroundings. Donnie was nowhere to be seen, Vee taking this moment to sit in bed, envelopping her form in the sheets and just think about last night's events. What would that make out of them? No real declarations of any sorts had been made, but the feelings were there and real, that she couldn't deny. Sure, it wasn't the first time she had slept with someone without any real attachment, but never had she felt that way with someone before... Donnie was a tender and very attentive man. She had that feeling that whatever he'd say or do, it must be true to him. She wanted to believe he would wish for them to be more... But for now she laid her expectations to rest and simply reveled in whatever was happening between them. She felt good. She felt appreciated. And, to be frank, the sex had been amazing.

She heard footsteps approaching the room, along a rolling sound. The mutant soon came in view, accompanied by a small trolley that held two plates with food, empty mugs and a pot of coffee. He was only wearing black boxer briefs and his glasses, his whole self a delectable sight. As he noticed that the woman was awake, he playfully struck a little pose while saying:

“Breakfast in bed for madame.”

That brought a soft giggle from Vee, though touched by this attention given to her. Instead of handing a plate, Donnie moved to sit by the woman's side in bed, unable to resist cupping one of her cheeks, his thumb tenderly brushing her skin. His eyes kept scanning her, his joy blooming at the mere sight of her smile.

“… Can't believe there's such a beautiful woman in my bed this morning,” he softly said.

“Can't believe such a sexy man is bringing me breakfast in bed,” replied Vee.

“I can bring more than that.”

Remnants of last night's emotions still brought some sparks in the air, Donnie's motion fluid and met halfway by Vee. It was sweet and slow, a kiss that felt like a dream. As it kept going, the terrapin started to shift his position and Vee's; soon the covers out of the way and Donnie's frame over the woman, forever careful not to be too much of a weight. They couldn't let go of one another, this morning's laziness bringing each motions to a tender point. As the terrapin was kissing at the woman's neck, she did add in a soft tone:

“What about breakfast? It's gonna get cold, just like the food last night...”

“I don't mind cooking another one later. … I'd cook one for you everyday even.”

That brought a hushed chuckle out of Vee, but deep down she was touched by that small confession. The simplicity and tenderness of this moment brought such ease in her.

“Donnie, I-...”

She stopped herself, knowing exactly what her heart wanted to say, but knowing now was not the time. Their gaze crossed, Donnie patient and Vee trying to find the right words to say next.

“... I’m so happy right now. Being with you feels so nice,” she ended.

“It does feel nice, indeed,” first replied the terrapin in a sweet tone. “... I could spend the rest of my life like this.”

Vee felt speechless, trying her best to read his emotions. He did sound sincere, but maybe it was this honeymoon type of feeling that was talking as well.... In any case, she prefered to kiss him in answer, knowing she did think the same as well. It was much preferable to live in this present moment, rather than worry in speculations.... At least, only for this morning.

***

That Monday morning was as grey and rainy as it could get, the usual omen for a bad day and week to come, but in Vee’s mind and heart, it was as sunny as it could ever be. Her work started with the usual routine; reviewing the projects for the day and then handing the paperwork. Her step around the office was light, humming some tunes to herself as she distributed the documents among her team.

“You look awfully happy for a Monday morning,” started one of her coworker’s voice, a guy.

That broke her stride, turning around to the source. She noticed a small handful of employees grouped together, probably discussing first amongst themselves until they saw their manager. Vee recognized the man who had spoken, already going through her papers as she walked towards the small group.

“I had a nice weekend, that’s all,” she answered, handing him the work.

“What, you buttered up the boss enough for you to get a raise?” said the other, reluctantly taking his due.

Vee instantly frowned: “... Excuse me?”

“We saw you leave with that Donatello, Friday evening,” added another coworker, a woman. “You’re not fooling anyone. It’s been quite some time that you both have been hanging together.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t see how that’s any of your concerns,” said Vee. “We’re friends, I don’t see what’s wrong with that.”

“Yah, sure, friends with benefits perhaps,” continued another person. “Soon you’ll benefit from a monetary gain while he benefits from your tits. Workplace logic.”

Vee was disgusted, knowing if she continued to argue, she’d make things worse: “I don’t know what’s wrong with you all, but you better mind your damn business.”

As she was walking away, she heard that last jab: “If I buy you a drink, will you give me a raise?” She did not stop, her step slightly getting faster instead. Her blood was boiling, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. At once, she wished she could simply disappear... Turning a corner, she abruptly bumped into someone, her remaining folders flying out of her hands and spilling to the floor. She felt strong hands hold her forearms, forbidding her to fall backward

“Woah there, easy. Are you alright?”

She met baby blue eyes surrounded by orange, quickly recognizing the presence as another one of her bosses: Michelangelo. She quickly nodded, trying to get a hold of her senses once more. Her eyes next scanned the floor, letting out a big sigh as she noticed the mess.

“Damn... I’m sorry,” she started. “I should’ve looked where I was going...”

“Nah, it’s fine,” smile the orange clad terrapin. “Next time I’ll be careful not to be on your war path!”

Both were already crouching down to pick up the fallen papers, Vee feeling so absent-minded by this meaningless task. All she wanted to do was to run away, to be quite frank. As Michelangelo handed her the last files, he did inquire again: “... You sure you’re alright?”

Vee faked a small smile, quick to dismiss his concern.

“Yes, I’m okay. No worries. Have a nice day, sir.”

As she got back on the move, her distress did not escape the mutant, although he did not try to push his questionning any further.

***

“What’s up, D, my man?”

Donnie paused his writing, glancing up towards his office’s entry. He saw Mikey standing there, the purple clad mutant huffing lightly as he then continued his task.

“I’m busy, Mikey.”

“You’re always busy, so any time to poke you is as good as any.”

The tall one rolled his eyes, although he did smile a little. He quickly gestured for his brother to come in.

“What’s up?” he asked as the other was taking a seat.

“Meh, I dunno man, just wanted to take some news from you,” shrugged Michelangelo. “You’ve been staying late a lot these days... How was your weekend?”

Donnie stopped writing once more, leaning back into his chair with a dreamy smile.

“It was hella nice.”

“Oh yeah? How so?”

“Spent some time with a beautiful lady.”

“There yooouu gooo!” lightly laughed the youngest. “T’was about time you’d get some fun. Who is she?”

“Slow down, I’ll present her to you soon enough. ... We’re just taking some time to ourselves first, you know...”

Mikey was disappointed by the lack of details, but he did respect his brother’s choice: “Fair enough.” A thought came back to him, suddenly adding: “Oh, speaking of meeting ladies, before I got in here I bumped into one. I dunno what’s going on in the office, but she did look kinda distressed. ... She’s got nice green hair though! We don’t see lots of people with different hairstyles around here.”

Donnie slightly jumped in his chair as he heard the mention of ‘distress’ and then ‘green hair’. It had to be Vee.

“Where is she?” he instantly asked.

Mikey was surprised by his brother’s reaction, vaguely gesturing a direction.

“I, uh, I have no idea. Somewhere around those parts we don’t really have a use for.”

She must’ve went to the drawing room... Donatello did not waste any second, already on his feet and heading out.

“Sorry gotta go,” he quickly excused himself. “Talk to you later.”

Mikey didn’t even have time to place a word, still seated as he watched the other dart straight to a precise direction. “Oooookay...”

***

It didn’t take long for Donnie to reach the room in question, already hearing some quiet sobs when he was close to the entrance. As soon as he stepped in, he found Vee at one corner, by a table, her glasses removed as she tried to forbid tears to ruin her makeup. The woman jumped as she saw the terrapin’s form appear in, trying her best to gain a better posture and make herself more presentable as she put back on her glasses.

“Shit! D-Donnie, I-”

The turtle was already on the move, soon next to her and certainly preoccupied.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Nothing,” tried to brush away Vee. “I’m not- ... fuck, I don’t want you to see me cry.”

“Don’t worry. Tell me what happened,” he asked again, his touch gentle as his thumb dried some faint trails on the woman’s cheek.

“It’s nothing,” she repeated. “I just heard some stuff I didn’t want to, that’s all. I’ll stop my bullshit soon enough and get back to work.”

Donnie tsked, not wasting any second to get a hold of her hips, barely giving any effort as he slightly lifted her up to sit on the table. At least now he wouldn’t need to lean down too much, his hands resting at her sides, on the table, now their eyes at the same level.

“Talk to me.”

She couldn’t hold his gaze long enough, a sigh escaping her first. ... It would be preferable to touch the subject anyway, before any rumors would start flowing around.

“I had some employees on my team this morning saying some ... stuff about us.”

“What kind?”

“The kind that makes it look as if I’m hanging out with you only so I can get a promotion or something like that to advance my career,” she added, her tone slightly harsh. She paused, trying to calm herself down quickly: “... Look, before you say anything, I want you to know that it’s not true. I’m not some kind of business leech that’ll try to flirt her way up. I work hard and-and- I do an honest job, and-”

“Don’t worry, I believe you,” cut Donnie gently, trying to have her look at him again.

When their gazes met, she did feel some relief.

“I don’t give a damn what they say,” he continued. “They don’t have the full details anyway, so their judgement is invalid.”

“I hope they don’t get all the details, I’d prefer to keep most of them to myself,” added Vee with some amusement.

“Me too,” he smiled.

He tried, and succeeded, to lift her morale by giving a sweet kiss on her lips. Vee couldn’t help bringing him into an embrace afterward, her arms resting around his neck. She wanted to stay like this forever... His strong arms around her were so reassuring.

“Don’t mind them,” softly said Donnie as he was nuzzling her hair. “There’s always gonna be some assholes everywhere we go... The best thing we can do is stand up to them and stay true to ourselves, okay?”

“I don’t think I’m ready to stand up to them today,” mumbled the woman against his scales.

“Alright, I’ll do it then.”

Vee instantly frowned, backing up a bit to give him a stern look.

“Don’t you dare! I don’t want anymore troubles.”

The terrapin chuckled: “Don’t worry, you don’t have to say names. ... I’m just gonna teach them all a little lesson. ... There’s no place for rivalry and petty discourses regarding matters they have no involvement with.”

“If things turn to hell, I blame you.”

“Deal!” he winked.

***

Time was passing by and Vee was somehow getting more and more anxious about what Donnie would do in regards to her team... She most certainly hoped he wouldn’t rub in the issue and ask the others to mind their own business. But at the same time she knew he could demonstrate tactfulness and would probably approach the matter at hand appropriately.

She first heard the squeak of small wheels, her attention shifting and soon noticing the terrapin walk in with a portable whiteboard. She groaned internally, tempted to melt on her chair and disappear under her desk...

Donnie attracted people’s attention by clearing his throat first, then adding: “Hi there! If you guys won’t mind, let’s have a talk.”

He removed the cap from an erasable pen he was holding, writing in big letters “TEAMWORK”. Vaguely gesturing the word, he started:

“What defines teamwork?”

Silence at first. At some point a woman shyly rose her hand, Donnie inviting her to speak:

“Please, don't be shy, no need to raise your hand. What do you have in mind?”

“Teamwork could be defined by good communication?”

“That's a good start, what else?” smiled the terrapin as he wrote “COMMUNICATION” on the whiteboard.

“Sharing the workload equally?” started another person.

“Efficiency!”

“Having a common goal.”

“Trust!”

Donnie lighted up at that word, circling it a couple of times for emphasis.

“Yes, trust!” he said. “Seeking a common end, resolving conflicts and frictions, having an open conversation about issues you might be experiencing in the workplace. All that trust you can put in your coworkers mirrors the trust you have in regards to their skills and abilities. A mutual trust is defined by a confidence between team members that each puts the best interest of the team ahead of individual priorities.”

“I guess it depends on the person and their position,” added in a guy.

Vee recognized him as the man who had first sparked the comments this morning. She tried to avoid his gaze, Donnie noticing the sudden tension.

“I suspect you have something on your mind,” started the terrapin calmly to the man. “What’s your name?”

“Ben.”

“What do you mean by ‘it depends on the person and their position’, Ben?”

The guy was obviously feeling some discomfort by being the center of interest.

“Well... when you see someone like, let’s say a manager, taking advantage of their position and time to advance themselves in the work place, it’s hard to put trust on them.”

Donnie clapsed his pen shut.

“Are those allegations founded? Have you spoken to that person and tried to see if that was actually the case? Miscommunication and misunderstanding can lead to a lack of trust, indeed.”

“When you see them hanging with higher ups, that kinda confirms some questioning,” continued Ben. “When she stays late at night and fraternizes with a boss, that does raise some concerns about the practices of this workplace.”

“There we go,” smiled Donnie, accentuating his words with a sharp point of his pen. “Now we’ve come to the source of your concern; first you mentionned a manager and now a ‘she’. Knowing there’s only one project manager for the creative team, I can suspect you have some concerns in regards to Véronique.”

“You’re just gonna defend her, why should we listen to you?” said the other.

“Because I’m not here to defend anyone,” shrugged the mutant. “I’m here to make you understand that you’re a team, and all its members shouldn’t feel afraid to speak to one another, instead of raising suspicions.” He gestured Vee, the woman only wanting to disappear. “Ever since Véronique started working here she has been spending countless hours in office to learn the ropes of this place and give the best of herself only so you can give the best of you all in return. I value her judgement and experience, and she has agreed, on her free will, to participate on a project I was personally struggling with. In return I have been helping her with her work, because that is how trust is built: by sharing the work-” he started to point the words on the board. “-being efficient, communicating, and having a common goal. ... And that’s something I want in this office, for its people to be open and help eachother - not because they feel they need to, but because they want to.”

That gave everyone a pause, somehow giving a feeling of accomplishment to the turtle.

“May that spark a friendship or not - when it does not involve this work environment and it’s out of office, it’s nothing to worry about afterward. ... Let that be food for thought.”

He looked a bit toward Vee’s position, giving her a quick wink. The woman did feel some relief by his speech, knowing he might have struck some chords here and there. She wasn’t fully convinced that everyone would be on that same line of thought, especially that Ben, but there was no denying that it would ease some tension somehow.

***

Vee had waited until work got back to a somewhat normal pace before she wrote that to the terrapin.

Her smile was tender, her fingers easily typing away.

Thinking about it also, today was one hell of a long and stressful Monday...

Probably one of the only good things today...

There it was again, that damn charm of his! She could feel the rush in her veins, remembering those moments with him. Frankly, she wanted more as well...

***

The following morning was as normal as it could get on a weekday, Donnie taking the opportunity to clean around his office. He was going through a filing cabinet, starting from the top drawer. Some papers did slip from his hold, the terrapin next crouching to get them off the floor. But at the same moment the entry door was harshly opened, a voice sternly calling his name. Donnie’s reaction was to jump straight back up, but that resulted in him hitting the top of his head on the previously opened drawer, getting a yelp out of him. He quickly diverted his gaze to the newcomer, rubbing his scales.

“Leo!” scolded the purple clad mutant as he saw his older brother. “The fuck?! Don’t you know how to knock or something?”

“We have to go.”

“Go where?”

“No time to explain, we’ve found them. We need to move right now before we lose their track again.”

Donnie instantly got serious as well, his posture straightening up.

“... Do we still have our backup gear in this building?” he asked.

“Yes,” confirmed the blue banded turtle. “Mikey and Raph are already aware as well. Get your stuff and we leave in fifteen minutes top.”

A simple nod in answer was good for Leonardo to get on the move again, leaving Donnie. There was no time to lose, the tall mutant rapidly tidying up his space before grabbing any personal items and exiting his office. His mind was running, thinking about what was to come. On his way he did notice Vee at her desk, somehow pausing only to bask into that view. At first she was focused on whatever she was working, but she did feel a gaze on her, her eyes lifting to meet Donnie. She first offered him a sweet smile, to which he briefly returned, then she saw him get back on the move - an expression of concern coloring his traits. That did confuse the woman, her eyes following his path and noticing that he was about to leave the building. She tried to shrug the feeling away, only telling herself that she’d poke him later about that...

((Part 10))

#it's-a-moi #business au #usual sorry for mistakes #that moment when I pump out drama a lil' faster than smut LOL #also note to self: DO NOT TRY TO EDIT/FIX ERRORS ON YOUR DAMN PHONE #stick to PC 😤#next chapter should come soon-ish as well - I'm pumped for this

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