#i meant to post more but i got like. . . heavy fixated on something and just forgot to draw

[altitudeofalcatraz]

They are watching a movie  ☆  

[cheegu3]

gangster!new - punishing you

note; original ask here, I had to make a separate post bc of tumblr again

warnings; yandere/mafia themes, unhealthy relationships, gun, slightly dub-con, sadism, drugging, smut - rough sex, non-protective, nasty but short sex lol (licking cum, spitting in mouth)

wc; 2.6k

The billboard lights had gotten blurrier the further you walked and you couldn't help but wonder if it was your mind playing tricks on you.

With the adrenaline pumping in your body and your water-soaked shoes running on the wet pavement, there was a high chance you weren’t exactly in the right state of mind now.

Maybe because of that you pushed on, even as it got so bad you almost fell into the busy traffic.

You didn't hear anything but your own heavy breaths. Occasionally, you scared yourself by thinking he was behind you; if you turned around too quickly you'd see a man in a suit and immediately you squealed '' no, no, please, '' to yourself.

It was only yesterday that you found out that your boyfriend wasn't who you thought he was.

At the end of the night out with your friends you were supposed to walk a few blocks to get a bus.

On the way there you passed by many alleyways but one in particular piqued your interest. Sounds came from far down it. Hushed voices, muffled screams, and the sound of a gun reloading.

You shouldn't have done it but your feet seemed to drag themselves forward on their own until you stood at the very end of the alley and it was already too late - they saw you.

'' Hey! Who's that? ''

You froze before your brain sensed danger and kicked in your flight instinct. Whipping around you started to run as hard as you could and sprinted for around 200 meters, then dove into a small shop when you felt your legs grow weak.

You forced your breathing to regulate, taking deep breaths while placing a hand over your chest as if to stop your pounding heart from escaping it.

The customers gave you curious looks and eyed each other questioningly. Then their gazes moved which you only noticed once you weren't panting anymore and had the energy to raise your head.

They were fixated on something behind you. In sync, their eyes moved from the left to the right until whatever was behind seemed to stop right at the door where you were standing.

You had a gut feeling that it was the guys from before. The gun and the shady business that seemed to be going down in that alley had made you come to the conclusion that they were gangsters. The city was full of them, and your boyfriend Chanhee had often told you to stay away from them at all costs. He said he knew them too well since he was a native.

Pretending like your anxiety levels hadn't skyrocketed, you went over to the back row of the shop casually and looked at something on the shelf. The bells above the door jingled, causing you to be more alert as they finally entered the shop.

You listened to their footsteps and your forehead creased. It was hard to make out how many of them there were. The loud thud of boots was always followed by several more and then a dragging sound.

You turned your head a little bit and discovered that the sound came from people moving out of the way. They were getting closer to you. It seemed like they inspected everyone in the shop before moving on to the next which meant there was no escaping the inevitable meeting you'd have with them.

A lone sandwich was the only thing you took out of the shelf. It would be too suspicious to just stand there, your back turned and not even buy anything. Maybe...just maybe they'd think you weren't the one if you actually looked like you belonged there.

But it was getting too hard to not act like the imposter. Everything about you screamed guilty. Your hands clenched around the poor sandwich to stop them from shaking violently.

Your mind kept going back to the alley. With some panic, you realized that if they saw you again, they'd recognize you right away. Although you didn't see their faces due to the darkness, you were standing right under the streetlights.

The crinkling sound brought the attention of a man who had ventured off on his own to make the search for the witness more effective.

You closed your eyes and tried to focus on something else to stop your body from sweating profusely. But it was too late. The man had already put his hand on your shoulder to turn you to him.

Glancing back, the first thing you saw was his pale hand on you. Surprisingly for a gangster, it was very pretty. Long slick fingers, not a scar, injury, or callus in sight.

You didn't mean to, but you smiled and looked up at the man. The smile fell immediately. And so did his, your boyfriend's.

For a whole minute, you just stared at each other. A range of emotions washed over both of your faces; confusion, anger, guilt, sadness, denial.

He finally spoke, and when he did so his voice came out tired. '' You weren't supposed to find out like this. ''

You didn't say anything. Your mouth felt like sandpaper. But it seemed to only agitate him. Maybe he wanted you to say the words he'd want to hear like ' it's okay, I don't care, I love you anyway '.

You couldn't say them. Not after you'd seen him like that.

'' I told you to go straight home, didn't I? '' he raised his voice which made you flinch.

You didn't miss the way he put his hands in his pockets. People don't show their hands when they feel certain emotions, such as anxiety or guilt.

He knew he was in the wrong for deceiving you but still acted now like it was somehow your fault for discovering his dark little secret.

'' You never listen to me. That's the problem with you! ''

He was getting angrier and angrier by your continued silence, taking it as an act of rebellion. As he took a step towards you, meant to intimidate, someone behind him called out, '' New, let's go. ''

New?

You stared up at him. He responded to the name and gave you one last look, tensely telling you under his breath for you to go home, and then left with the group.

The different name caught you off guard. It felt like the final punch to the gut before crashing down. Somehow it created a wall between you and Chanhee. A different name, a different persona, a different job. He'd been living a completely separate life.

You hadn't been cheated on but it almost felt like it. With a sour taste in your mouth, you went home at last and locked yourself into one of the spare bedrooms. There was no way you wanted to see your boyfriend for the rest of the day.

As you lay in bed trying to sleep, a thought popped into the forefront of your mind, something you'd never considered much before. Sure, he'd been possessive and overbearing but you could handle it.

This however? He was a bad person, a terrible one in fact, who hurt others.

'' Oh my god, '' you whispered to yourself.

Was that man dead? Had he killed him? Your sweet loving boyfriend? You felt sick. The love was rapidly disappearing, only being replaced with pure disgust. How could you have loved someone like that, or not noticed it? A psycho right in front of your eyes!

A psycho who laid his delicate hands around you at night, telling you he loved you; while those same hands were used to kill.

'' Y/n? ''

As if on cue, the devil came home and knocked softly on your door. You turned over on your side and ignored it, hoping that he'd give up and go away soon.

And he did. He tried the door and despite not getting an answer which would usually set his temper off, he just left it and went away.

You woke up the next day with an uneasiness in the pit of your stomach. There was a feeling that you needed to walk on eggshells around him now.

'' Hey. Did you sleep well? '' was the first thing he said.

It wasn't unusual for him to ask that if he got up earlier than you. Now though, he could probably see the dark circles under your eyes, as his face was laced with concern.

You only nodded and tried not to stiffen when he approached you for his morning kiss. It was awkward for both of you.

He gestured to the filled dining table before heading to the door. A glance at the clock told you it was almost 1pm; you'd slept for a very long time and likely he had waited hours for you.

'' Are you going somewhere? ''

'' Work, '' he said, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

Work from now on meant his mafia work, the part he'd kept hidden from you before. Your eyes narrowed. Was he going off somewhere to hurt someone again?

But you didn't say anything. After the door closed behind him, you started gathering your most important things and texted your sister that you were coming over to spend the night there.

An hour passed before you felt brave enough to leave. You brought a sandwich and a water bottle that Chanhee had put out for you which you sipped on while walking to the city.

It was a Sunday so there were barely any buses. You clenched your teeth and kept walking despite that, determined to reach your sister's house in an hour or two.

However, it would prove to be a lot more difficult than you'd originally thought. Within twenty minutes you looked back and realized you hadn't walked far at all.

Your head began throbbing for some reason and you couldn't tell if it was the pouring rain, tiredness, or something else, but your vision started getting distorted too.

How long had you been walking for now? You could see the billboards shining down on you like they always did. Yet everything surrounding it seemed to be dark.

Your steps became wobbly when you were about to pass by the spot where you had seen Chanhee just the day before. You decided to rest there against the wall until whatever had just disrupted you would go away.

You had only just sat down when your body fell down to the side with a loud thump.

*******

Lights woke you from your strange slumber. You had to blink a few times to come back to reality and make sense of your surroundings. What greeted you was no longer the alley and the darkness, but a familiar setting - your bedroom, with a familiar person, your boyfriend.

He helped you sit up. You stretched your tense muscles and tried to move to get out of bed, stomach practically screaming at you. Things hadn't fully set in yet; such as the fact that he had found you somehow and brought you back there, which must mean he knew you tried to escape.

The only thing you cared about now was food and sleep since the throbbing from before had left an awful after-effect in your head.

'' I have food, don't get up. ''

He handed you some food that you nibbled on quietly. As you washed it down with some drink, it finally hit you.

Your eyes widened but you quickly had to pretend like nothing was wrong, just in case he didn't actually know. You tried to read his impression, stoic, unamused maybe? He usually smiled when he saw you looking at him. Not now though, not at all.

Once you were done he took it away from you and didn't even bother going to put it in the kitchen, he just placed it on the nightstand. For some reason it made alarm bells ring inside your head.

'' That wasn't very smart of you, was it? ''

You shuddered at his low tone, it was one he had never really used with you before, one that very clearly painted a picture of who was the prey and who was the predator.

You backed up against the header behind but didn't get very far; he pulled you down swiftly by your leg so you were dragged closer to him. Laying there shaking, he just looked down at you.

'' You know I drugged the water, right? ''

Your mouth fell open.

'' I knew you'd try something like this just to piss me off. ''

Suddenly he started unbuttoning his suit shirt which confused you. He smirked at your puzzled look and seemed to enjoy you watching him undress.

Once the shirt was off he was satisfied, and so, he came over to hover over you. Your wrists were pinned in an almost painful grip above your head.

'' I-I was just...going for a walk. '' you licked your dry lips.

His expression didn't change and he didn't answer you. Taking a breath of relief a bit too early you gasped when he caught you off guard by flipping you onto your stomach.

You tried wriggling out of his grasp.

'' Don't pretend like you don't want it every day, '' he sounded both amused and angry, his words carrying an almost venomous edge to them.

You buried your face into the pillow in embarrassment, your body acknowledging his words by the growing wetness between your thighs.

Behind you, you heard his zipper go down and were just about to glance back when he pushed into you without warning. He didn't even bother pulling his pants off.

Both of you let out loud sounds, his of pleasure and you a cry of pain. A string of incomprehensible words left your mouth, which he ignored, picking up a long and hard thrusting rhythm instead.

Loud, wet, and filthy sounds filled the room. You felt humiliated to admit you'd never been so turned on. You didn't fight it and just let your body rock with each thrust. But you were still very aware that it was a punishment by the burning feeling, that although decreasing, was very much present.

Whimpers turned into small moans that you tried muffling. But it became very hard to do as his chest touched your back and you heard his low groans in your ear.

You couldn't hide how you felt from him. Whatever sounds you made would likely push his sadistic self over the edge if you weren't careful.

Your body gave in to him more and more as the pleasure lulled your brain and numbed the pounding head from before.

'' Chanhee, '' you whined, '' I'm gonna- ''

A sound of loud protest broke from your lips. He pulled out as soon as you spoke and you felt the warmth of him finishing on your back thigh.

You were just about to whine again and angrily question why he didn't let you finish, but his warm tongue coming in contact close to your core made your body tingle.

He flipped you over on your back again and forced your mouth open with his thumb.

'' What are you doing? ''

Leaning right over you he kept your mouth open and then spat right into it, almost making you choke from the shock. The saltiness hit your tongue and you immediately recognized the taste which you swirled around in your mouth.

'' Swallow. ''

He didn't have to tell you twice. You swallowed hard and then glared at him again. As if you were telepathic, he smiled knowingly.

'' I won't let you finish tonight, you don't deserve it. ''

You rolled your eyes and clenched your teeth in irritation. It didn't really feel like you had a say in this so you remained tight-lipped with a scowl on your face.

That was until he dove his head in between your legs and made your body turn into jelly again. This was going to be a long and torturous night, you knew him.

He'd go on for hours til you were begging for him to let you finish with tears streaming down your face.

[marengogo]

Rambling in INFJese - Part 6: LoveLess

Inevitable - by Suzy  [Extraordinary Attorney Woo (OST)]

🐺 — 🐺 — 🐺—

I’m so sorry for delaying my regular posts, life is still lifING and I must admit that I’m enjoying living it, struggles at all. Another thing I keep enjoying, is reading posts from the people I follow on tumblr, from time to time, but today … today was different … today I realised something, hence I’m taking a moment from this lovely giant-moon-evening to ramble away real quick. 

Today, @stormblessed95​ went on a generous answering spree, and as always, she was confronted with Anons, to whom the idea of jikook being together is nothing short of ludacris for the usually reasons such as “they do the same things with everyone else”, “they are never together”, “they spend more time with so-and-so”, “he used to be … but not anymore …” etc, etc, etc. At first I just brushed it off as typical anti and insecure jikooker behaviour, but then for a change I asked myself: “Why are some of these people so fixated with the idea/image of what Jikook’s relationship should look … should feel like?”

So, as the not-so-careful empath that I am, I quickly stepped into their shoes, took a quick walk and quickly got out of them cause it felt a bit heavy (ngl). Now, this is all me speculating of course, so obviously I might be wrong but it would appear as if, to some of these people, Jikook has somehow taken to represent Ideal Love. 

I mean, as if being an idol wasn’t heavy and hard enough, imagine having to represent the perfection which is love itself! Now, I don’t wanna be the one that has to point out the fact that even this sort of issue makes Jikook stand out, thought highkey I am, but instead, I will proceed to explain how this “Ideal Love Predicament” might have come to be.

I would like to blame with a full-chest and whole-heartedly some Jikook YouTube channels 😬. Yes. When you produce content and constantly use words such as “ALWAYS”, “ONLY”, “NEVER” the brain will eventually register and make associations. And in a present world where most of everything seems to never last and almost everything feels not meant for us, many might have found comfort in finding this (not-confirmed) pair of boys, whom against the adversity of their homophobic society seemingly found a way to love and be “special only to each other” (... define special … but I digress …). 

So it was that, for example, the first time (according to all these people, who ignored all the other times …) when JK and JM rode in different cars with different people, everything quickly went to hell because “ALWAYS” wasn’t “ALWAYS” anymore and the brain couldn’t brain anymore. This “process” at times was made even worse/heavier when added to projecting ideal feelings of love. 

Like in any meant-to-be-love-thrope, your partner would never touch, even less, look at anyone other than you, (whom sometimes they haven’t even met yet). Your partner should always know how you feel and what you are thinking. Your partner would never look at anyone else and always want to be with only you. Your partner would basically not live without you. And so wouldn’t you.

Which, hey, don’t get me wrong. It’s all very cute, fun and good in a movie, a K-Drama, even during one's honeymoon phase. But I’m afraid it is not sustainable. I know 😩, yet another sustainability speech, but what can I say, the world is dying and at this rate so will relationships!

It feels more and more like the fear of not having that Ideal Love, mixed with the fear of being hurt (which, it might/will happen, it might/will fucking hurt, but you should/will eventually get over it … if I did, you all will … took me 10 years, but hey, it found me when I absolutely wanted nothing with it so … 🙄) mixed with the necessity to have what you don’t know you actually really don’t need, is stopping people from actually going out to find Their Unique Love, one tailored just to themselves, and end up putting everything on the Ideal Love of someone else. 

Hence, the hurt, the anger, the denial, the aggression etc when things don’t go the way they want with this Unknowing Martyrs of Ideal Love, in our case, Jikook. I will never stop saying this and I will keep saying this: JK and JM are not a confirmed couple, as such, we can keep speculating and making our educated guesses, which within its own limits is fine and all, but they are NOT actors in a love drama. Whatever they do or not do with each other, is for each other and each other only.

Now, to all those people out there whose shoes I walked in for those few seconds in order to write this, from the bottom of my heart, truly wish for you to give Your Type of Love a chance. You need to experience it, you need to agonise over it, you need to boast about it and sometimes cry over it and when/if you are ready; start all over again. Until then, forcing one's opinion on other people’s relationships would be like having an argument about a topic you’ve never even heard about: pointless.

To those of you to whom this isn’t their first rodeo, was it the same every single time? Did each of your partners give you the same exact emotions? If it was, we’ll need to talk because that would be interesting … if not, you’d have no reason to expect Jikook to project your SAME EXACT feelings in their relationship. Jussayin’.

Anyways, I’ve stayed up long enough.

Wishing everyone lots of love, if you don’t find it yet, feel free to come and bitch at me!

Always respectfully yours,

Marengo.

[badassbuchanan]

Our Secret

Plot: Bucky and Y/N Stark take their secret relationship to the next level and make the most of their alone time

Warnings: smut; oral (male receiving), secret relationship, dirty talk, metal-arm!kink, stark reader, semi-public place, short and sweet.

a/n: hello this is my first post, I’m new. Requests are open, so pop in and let me make your dreams come true!

“There you are.” I smiled with a sigh of relief, flopping down on the couch next to the unexplainably handsome, long haired super soldier. I’d spent the better half of ten minutes searching the compound for my secret lover.

I immediately turned to face him, cupping his stubble covered jaw in my hand as I pressed my lips against his, something that was usually only done in our private rooms.

Bucky’s hand flew to my hip, his eyebrows raising in surprise as he pulled away from the kiss slightly, his head turning to scan the room. “What are you playing at?” His voice came out as a whisper as his eyes met mine. I couldn’t help but let out a giggle at how much he was stressing. “Anyone could walk in and catch us.”

“Mmh mmh.” I shook my head and licked my lips as I inched closer to him seductively. My hand came up to play with his hair, my thigh intentionally placed over his knee. “We’re all alone.”

Bucky’s face almost instantly dropped into a smile, his eyes widening a little with excitement as his hand gripped my hip tighter. “Oh really?” He smirked, his eyes dropping to my lips as he mirrored my actions, moving closer.

I chuckled at his excitement and inched closer to him once again, practically sitting on his lap. “Really.” I confirmed, our noses brushing together and our breaths hot on each other’s lips.

Bucky’s hands slid around to my butt, rubbing up my lower back onto the material of my workout top. He let a little moan slip passed his lips as I tilted my head, arching my back into his touch as our chests pressed together.

“Well what should we do with all this time alone?” Bucky asked, his voice deep and husky as he licked his lips. I could feel his hardening cock against my thigh, my body shivering at the feeling of his metal fingers against my hot skin.

“I have an idea.” I smiled cheekily, my hand palming his chest soothingly over the thin material of his tshirt. I could feel every muscle, every indent in his skin and it only made me crave more of him. For so long I’d wanted to be alone with Bucky, and I’d spent many nights in bed with my thoughts planning exactly what to do when the opportunity arose.

Before he could even ask what my idea was, I pressed my lips against his. Bucky immediately pulled me onto his lap, relaxing into the sofa as he opened his mouth, his tongue nudging my lips apart.

I moaned softly, unable to stop myself from grinding down onto his crotch. I willingly let his tongue play with mine, his hands travelling back down to my ass to squeeze. I could already feel the size of him through the thick material of his jeans and I was eager to finally get what I wanted.

Bucky groaned at the feeling, biting his lip as he pulled me down against his crotch again. My arms wrapped around his neck as I leaned down for another kiss, working my hips into a rhythm with the help of his hands. “Fuck.”

“Language.” I stopped my movements momentarily, raising my eyebrows as Bucky rolled his eyes with a subtle smile, obviously not too impressed with my choice of timing to mock his best friend.

He let his head rest against the back of the sofa, which gave me the perfect opportunity to slide down between his legs and onto the floor in front of him, a mischevious smile on my face.

Bucky arched his eyebrow as he watched me intensely, quickly catching on to what my idea was. I bit my lip, running my hands up and down his thighs as I sat up on my knees.

I let my fingers dance over his jeans before giving his growing buldge a squeeze which caused Bucky’s hips to thrust up to meet my touch. I could feel my arousal dripping onto my panties as I touched him.

Bucky’s eyes didn’t leave mine as I skilfully undid his belt, moving straight to the button of his jeans and quickly working on the zipper.

I knelt up further between his thighs, lifting up the bottom of his shirt to reveal his abs. I let my lips kiss ticklishly over the newly exposed skin as my hand moved inside his open jeans and passed his underwear.

“I want you in my mouth, Buck.” I told him with a sultry tone, not missing the jolt of his hips as my hand finally reached his bare, hard cock.

The furthest we’d ever gone was dry humping. Maybe a little under the bra boob action but never anything like this. We never had enough alone time. Too many people in the compound meant it was easy for people to get suspicious.

I wrapped my small hand around his thick length, pulling him free from the restraining material as my lips reached his pelvis. I smiled against his skin, a little drop of drool forming in the corner of my mouth as my hand ran up his length. I couldn’t wait to taste him.

“You’re so big.” I whimpered softly, finally lifting my head to look at his cock. My jaw went slack as I took in the beauty of his member. The throbbing red tip that was leaking with pre-cum, his thick shaft with a pulsing vein and soft skin. It was all too much to take in. I couldn’t stop myself from leaning down and kitten licking his tip.

Bucky grunted when he felt my hot tongue on his cock, fisting at the sofa to stop his hands from grabbing my head and forcing me down his length. His abs clenched as my lips wrapped around his tip, tongue swirling around to collect all of his pre-cum.

“What would your daddy say if he could see you now, baby?” Bucky moaned out with a satisfied smirk on his face. Did my dad like Bucky? Not exactly. Did Bucky like my dad? Not really. Did my dad trust Steve enough to let Bucky join the avengers? Reluctantly, yes. Did I get a thrill knowing that my father, Mr Tony Stark, Mr I-Always-Get-My-Way, would never approve of me and Bucky? Oh, you betcha.

It was one of the biggest reasons we had to sneak around, that and the fact that we both got a thrill out of knowing we had a secret that no one else knew.

I moaned around his tip as a response, causing vibrations through his cock which made his hand come up to rest on the back of my head. He tugged me further down his length gently, which I happily complied with.

I relaxed my throat, my spit coating his length as I took more of him in my mouth. I rested my hands on his thick thighs, his muscles tensing as I started to bob my head up and down.

“Oh fuck,” Bucky groaned, breathing heavily as his head flew back against the sofa. His jaw dropped open, letting his moans flow freely as we were home alone. “Your pretty little mouth feels so good.”

I continued to bob my head, drool dripping down onto his balls as I slid my lips down until his tip hit the back of my throat. A grunt came from him, his jaw clenching as he gripped the back of my head tighter.

The pool of arousal between my thighs was growing with every second, a visible wet patch on the light colour of my tights. As much as I wanted Bucky to push my down onto the sofa and pound my aching pussy, this was about pleasing him.

I lifted my mouth off of him, catching my breath as my tongue glided down his length, paying close attention to the protruding vein. “Bucky,” I dragged his name out with a whine, my tongue running over his neatly groomed balls before sucking on them gently. “I want you to fuck my mouth.”

Bucky let out a low, animalistic noise as I looked up at his blown out pupils, an innocent look on my face as I moved my lips back up to his tip, opening my mouth so all he had to do was angle his hips and start thrusting.

“You sure about this?” He looked for confirmation and grabbed hold of his length with his flesh hand, the metal one still firmly on the back of my head as I nodded in response and looked up at him in anticipation.

I dug my nails into his thighs as he guided his tip to rub over my lips and tongue, leaving no part untouched. I sighed out in contentment of the attention, closing my eyes as I got lost in the bliss of the moment.

“I love your cock, Buck.” I hummed before taking his tip into my hot mouth, sucking it like a popsicle. He tasted sweet yet so manly. I wanted to keep his velvety length in my mouth forever.

“It’s all yours, doll.” Bucky replied sweetly, the pet name sent tingles between my thighs. He tested the waters, thrusting up into my mouth. I moaned around his cock, my lips running up and down the length as he pulled out almost fully before thrusting back in. “Just let me know if it gets too much.”

I nodded once again, closing my eyes as I tried to relax my throat around his thick length. My nails left marks on his thighs, letting my jaw go slack as he picked up his pace.

Bucky’s balls slapped against my chin with each hard thrust, his hips coming off the sofa to meet the controlled movements of my head. His moans echoed through the room, his eyes fixed on the way my mouth took his length.

I let my tongue lay flat against his shaft, gliding up and down with every thrust. Bucky scrunched his nose as he watched me swallow his cock, now fully fucking my mouth as if it were my pussy.

“You gunna swallow my cum, doll?” Bucky grunted through heavy breathes, a soft slapping sound filling the room from his thrusts.

I moaned around his length in response, his cock twitching in my mouth. His filthy words were turning me on so much I could feel my pussy clenching around nothing, my thighs pressed together to try and find some sort of relief.

I started to move my head down on him harder, meeting his thrusts as I cupped his balls in my hand. I massaged them with my fingers, eager to feel his cum spurt down my throat.

Bucky rubbed his metal thumb over my cheek bone lovingly, his eyes still fixated on my every move. I bravely looked back up at him, whimpering with every jolt of his hips.

I wanted to keep him in my mouth forever, high off of the feeling of pleasing him so much. I moved my hands off of him, letting him take full control as he fucked my mouth.

I lifted my tight top up, letting my tits bounce freely in the cold air of the compound. Bucky moaned, watching my boobs move in time with his thrusts, hard nipples on display for him.

“Fuck.” Bucky panted loudly as I felt him twitch against my tongue. My tongue swirled around his shaft, trying to reach every inch of his cock.

He moved both hands to my cheeks, cupping the sides of my face as he forced me to look up at him as he pounded into me. I closed my eyes as I tried to hold off my gag reflex at the feeling of his tip ramming the back of my throat.

“I’m gunna cum.” He said in an almost panicked tone, both of us not ready for this to be over. But I knew he was close by the sudden lack of rhythm in his thrusts. “Oh, fuck I’m gunna cum.”

I looked up at him through my eyelashes seductively, inhaling deeply through my nose, my heart pounding in my chest as I pushed myself up on my knees. My action caused my head to slide down his cock, fully engulfing him in my mouth as my hands grabbed ahold of this thighs.

I moaned when my nose touched his lower stomach, deepthroating his length as Bucky’s hands flew to the back of my head.

He held me there as his hips bucked erratically, a loud moan errupting from his throat as spurts of hot cum filled my mouth.

Bucky panted through his orgasm as I swallowed every single drop of his sweet nectar. I rubbed his thighs soothingly, lifting my head off of his length slowly as he came down from his high.

His hands dropped from my head, his muscles relaxing as I pulled my top back down, climbing back up onto the sofa next to him.

“Feel good?” I asked softly, a pleasant smile on my face as I rubbed over his metal bicep. I admired his afterglow look as I rested my head on the sofa, hair messy, cheeks pink, pupils blown. He was a sight for sore eyes.

Bucky tucked himself back into his pants, turning his head lazily to face me, the dorkiest smile on his face as he leaned in to peck my lips. “So good.” He mumbled between kisses, his flesh hand gripping my thigh closest to him. “How about I repay the favour?”

I giggled softly as his hand ran up the inside of my thigh, inches away from where I needed him the most. I wrapped my arm around his neck, pulling him closer as I gave him a quick kiss.

Just as Bucky was about to reach the waistband of my leggings, a voice sounded from down the hall. “We’re back!” Peter damn Parker called out, the others close behind him.

“Shit.” I whispered in a panic, the sudden tranquility of our alone time vanished at the sound of Peter’s voice. It was like being pulled back to reality from an amazing dream.

Bucky and I quickly pulled away from each other with a sigh, trying to make ourselves look presentable as we turned back to the tv that had been forgotten about long ago.

Our time alone together was up, but that didn’t stop the ache between my thighs, so needy after finally getting to see and touch his gorgeous cock. It would keep me up every night knowing that he was just down the hall, so close yet so out of reach, his cock so ready to satisfy me. But not able to do so until we could be alone again. Who knows how long that will be.

“Hey kiddo.” My father patted my shoulder as most of the team walked into the room, all in their own conversations. “Sorry you got left with old cyborg over here. Hope he didn’t freak you out too much.”

“It’s okay dad,” I called back to Tony who had already gotten half way across the room. “He’s no more of a freak than I am.” I smiled cheekily at Bucky who scoffed in response, a proud smirk on his face at the secret that only we would ever know.

[bookishofalder]

Rainy Days

Spencer x Reader

Request: @starwithoutdarkness - Hey! I heard you were looking for requests! Maybe Spencer Reid x reader fake dating fluff? Combined with Request: @paulaern  - Hello!  What about Spencer Reid x reader when they realizes they love each other? Like reader makes something for Spencer and he thinks like "I can't deny anymore, I'm completely and hopeless in love with her" or something like that  (G!neutral if you want)

A/N: Thank you so much for sending in requests! Hope this makes you smile!

Warnings: Swearing, moderate BAU violence, creepy men, fluffiest fluff, intense headache description. Set randomly post prison Reid but Hotch is still there because he should have been! WC-2,488

Spencer was staring at the geo-profile he had been working on all day, very glad to be inside. The weather in Seattle had stayed consistently rainy for the two days the BAU team had been in town assisting in catching a killer, who had been committing serial robberies/murders with no apparent rhyme or reason. And while Spencer didn’t mind the rain, he did mind loud, busy cities. Combined, they usually led to a headache that would take a day or two to recover.

The door to the conference room he was working alone in burst open and slammed shut so suddenly he nearly jumped out of his skin, turning to see-

You.

Spencer hated it when you appeared without warning, catching him entirely off guard and presenting the risk that you would notice the visible effort it took for him to compose himself around you.

While he’d noticed how beautiful and hilarious and empathetic you were the moment you joined the team, he’d fallen in love with you when you had your first case with them. Spencer had begun to ramble about the specifics of casinos, and how ‘beating the house’ was nearly impossible, when the rest of the team had tuned out. A temporary member, Agent Seaver, had sneered ‘I’m sorry I asked.” Effectively shutting him up. But then you had turned in your seat next to him and, after shooting Seaver a look had asked him to continue. And though he didn’t have that much more to say, and it wasn’t all that interesting, you listened to every single word and thanked him.

It had been years since that had happened, your friendship had blossomed into best friends, something Spencer cherished immensely. This was partly why he shoved his feelings down. The relationship did not need to change for Spencer to remain happy; as long as he got to spend time with you at work, or watch movies and make tent forts in his living room. And visit his mom (who adored you and always gave you book recommendations that you would be sure to read the moment you could), or go to comic conventions and museums...yes, as long as he could always do those things with you, he was happy.

No need to risk changing a perfect thing.

Now though, you were shutting the door and giving him your most panicked look, wide-eyed, with your hair damp from the rain you no doubt had run through to get inside, accounting for your breathlessness. If it weren’t for the worry that had sprung up inside of him upon seeing your expression, he would have fixated on how beautiful you looked at that moment.

“Spencer, you’re my boyfriend.” You whisper yelled at him, quickly stepping closer and setting your bag down on the conference table.

“Wha-“ He began, but you cut him off frantically.

“I’ll explain-just, oh fuck-“

Spencer stood frozen to the spot as the door reopened and one of the senior detectives sauntered in, a friendly smile somewhat overshadowed by the almost predatorial glint in his eyes. You awkwardly stepped closer to Spencer, raising a hand in hello.

“Agent (Y/L/N), great to see you’re back, I was hoping to catch you before the end of the day!” He said merrily, placing two hands on the back of the nearest chair. Something about the way his hands gripped the chair made Spencer feel...on edge.

You gave the fakest little giggle Spencer had ever heard from you, “Oh, nice to see you too Detective! Just had to catch up with Agent Reid here...”

When his eyes moved from you to assess Spencer briefly, he felt a protective force rear up, instincts entirely at alert. Without hesitating, he casually draped an arm over your shoulder, brushing some hair back as he did, and replied, “And you promised we could get some coffee from the Starbucks down the road, hon.”

He enjoyed the way your cheeks flushed and noticed the pulse in your neck pick up. You glanced up at him, trying to look coy but he knew you too well and could see you were partly surprised, and also trying not to laugh.

“Um, of course, I nearly forgot, babe, let’s go in about 5-unless, did you need something specific, Detective?” She broke off to glance back at the now scowling man, who gave an annoyed jerk of his head before stomping back out of the room.

Once the door banged closed behind him, you let out the biggest sigh of relief, raising a hand to your face in dismay.

Spencer hadn’t removed his arm yet, “I’m assuming I just helped you avoid being asked out, but why-?”

“Uhg, Spencer, I’ve already turned him down TWICE since we’ve arrived! He’s literally the kind of dude who doesn’t take no for an answer unless another man has some fucking misogynistic claim over the woman!” You exclaimed, before moving to stand right in front of Spencer and lean just your head to his chest, staring down at the floor, “I hate everything.”

Spencer laughed, patting your back softly, but internally making note that he wouldn’t be letting you go anywhere alone for the rest of this case-that detective gave him the creeps. And while you were beyond capable of protecting yourself, he just knew he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything if he thought you could be hurt.

“Well, just so we’re clear I would never want to be called ‘babe’ in a relationship.” He joked and the desired effect was his immediate reward when you lifted your head and giggled-your genuine, beautiful little giggle-and then grinned.

“Spencer, you called me ‘hon’ like we were 70.”

Spencer considered a moment, “We could be, you’ll be Gladys and I’ll be-“

“Winston!” You supplied eagerly, and he frowned at you, trying not to laugh.

“Winston?”

“It’s really very dignified, the kind of name where people call you ‘sir’.” You replied cheekily, and while Spencer grinned, a part of him felt a swoop of pleasure when your lips formed the word ‘sir’.

He decided very quickly that he liked the idea of you calling him that. And then, just as swiftly dismissed that train of thought and chastised himself.

As you both stood together and laughed, the door swung open and Hotch and the team followed him in, all in various stages of the results of exposure to the rain, looking equally grim. Spencer and you abruptly stopped when you saw their expressions and launched back into work mode seamlessly.

———

Two days later, the team was closing in on the unsub and everyone was on high alert. Taking the profile and applying it to the geo-profile he had been working on, Spencer had narrowed down this grubby old apartment that sat above a nightclub as the most likely spot the unsub was staying at. Of course, they were arriving at night which meant the club was busy and loud, people lined up out the doors waiting for their chance to enter, pay too much for a drink and grind their bodies against strangers.

Spencer’s headache from the unforgiving rain was thrumming now with the music that seemed entirely unencumbered by the walls of the stairwell, the team slowly climbing. It was bad enough that his eyes narrowed somewhat, but he didn’t lose focus.

You were behind him, watching his six as Hotch and Morgan approached the door ahead and prepared to breach. Spencer slipped a hand behind his back and, on cue, you’re pinky wrapped with his. A brief promise to each other, ‘I’ve got you.’.

They had anticipated violence and heavy arms, so when their announcement was met with silence and the door was kicked open, the tactical response was to secure positions and carefully proceed. Agents and SWAT members lined the building and were, at that moment, securing the club below to ensure the unsub couldn’t flee into a room full of potential hostages.

Spencer and you were the third pair to enter, quickly moving ahead of the others to secure more rooms, eyes peeled for movement. The floor was covered in litter and random spots of dirt and dried substances. It smelled like body odour and axe body spray-which immediately went to Spencer’s headache and caused it to throb in protest.

“Freeze!”

You had shouted right as Spencer noticed the movement from a back room down the hall, as the unsub leaned out and, not abiding by the command, opened fire. Spencer grabbed you and swung you both behind the wall of the kitchen, out of the line of fire while he shouted the unsubs location.

You recovered quickly, dropping to the ground and leaning out to return fire as Hotch and Morgan ran across to the living room to join the battle. It only took a few moments after that before Morgan managed to get a shot to the suspect's shoulder and he fell with a cry of anguish.

You popped up from the ground, watching as Prentiss and Rossi moved forward to secure the man, and barked into your radio for medics to come in.

Spencer, meanwhile, was reeling. When the shots in the room had all joined together in a cacophony, sound and noise piercing his skull, it had converted to pain and panic in his skull, overwhelming him. He had used his own body to shield yours when he pulled you with him into the wall, and the caution he took with you meant he hadn’t caught himself carefully enough, his head bouncing lightly off of the stone wall.

Which, on a normal day would have simply been annoying. But today, with a headache so severe he was beginning to get spots in his vision, it was detrimental. The scene was secure, so he allowed his eyes to shut, a meagre reprieve but at least it was something, at least he didn’t have to see the beams from the flashlights or the pulsing of the neon signs outside of the windows...

“Winston, take my hand.” Your voice was so, so soft. Spencer let his mouth open slightly, a small rush of air all he managed, trying to say ‘I can’t-it hurts, make it stop’ but you grasped his hand tightly and pulled and he followed, his other hand reaching and grabbing that back of your vest, he let you lead him.

He knew from the reduced foot traffic of agents and crime scene workers that you were taking the rear exit, a stairwell that was narrower than the main. He peeked through his lashes to take the stairs, and then suddenly, the cool night air hit him and the door was closing behind you both.

You kept walking with purpose, leading Spencer further away from the loud building. The rain spattered his face but with each step the noise reduced and after a short walk it became relatively quiet.

“Sit.” You murmured, halting. Spencer opened his eyes and saw that you had led him to the farthest spot in the parking lot from the building, where trees lined the lot along a community park that was probably utilized by vagrants and drug dealers more than families. But there was a bench, and you were waiting for him to take a seat. You had pulled out a compact, expandable emergency rain shield from one of the pockets on your FBI utility belt and tossed it on the bench, protecting you both from soaking your underwear.

Spencer sat, setting his elbows on his legs and leaning forward with his hands pressed to his face. He took deep, steadying breaths as you joined him, your hand on the back of his neck. At first, he thought you were just resting it there because his FBI vest would have prevented him from feeling your hand on his back, however, a moment later it was joined by your other hand and a very cold object.

Resisting the urge to pull away, he gasped at the contact, “What-?”

“On-the-go cold compress, Doctor.” You explained, leaving it in place and then rummaging again. Spencer wanted to look but the compress, combined with the quiet, was already doing wonders. He continued to take deep breaths.

“When you’re ready, try this.” You said softly, pressing something to his hand. Opening his eyes, he saw a mini flask that had his name written on the side.

He turned his head slowly so as not to move the compress and met your eyes, which were assessing him with concern. “(Y/N), when did we start drinking on the job?”

You giggled quietly, “It’s just water mixed with this like, vitamin powder that’s supposed to be good for rehydrating you quickly. I did some research on how to help headaches like yours on the go, just in case, and I made this ‘Spencer’ care bag.” You rambled a little when he didn’t reply.

Spencer looked back at the flask and opened it, quickly downing the contents. It tasted pretty fruity and he realized he was thirsty, this taking the edge off.

“Is it okay?” You asked. Spencer raised his head and met your eyes, searching them.

He was overwhelmed, the headache already fading, in its place an intensely warm feeling building inside of him as he considered the time and effort you had taken to care for him. He hadn’t asked you, or hinted, you had just taken it on to find a way to help him and you were right there when he needed you the most.

You had always been there when he needed you. When he had been shot protecting Blake, when he struggled to care for his mother, when he had gone to prison, when he was freed, you were there.

The words tumbled out, unable to be contained a second longer.

“I am hopelessly in love with you.”

Your mouth opened and closed in surprise, taken entirely off guard. Though he worried what you would say, he couldn’t deny the relief he felt having finally said it out loud. He watched patiently as your mind processed his confession, holding his breath.

“I-Spencer,” And then suddenly your lips were pressing into his and the pain from his headache ceased entirely. Spencer was consumed by the feel of you against him, of your hands holding his face and the hum of content you gave when he returned your passion, dropping his flask and sliding his hands up your neck, gripping tenderly.

After what could have been hours, weeks, or years, you both broke apart, pulling back just enough to make eye contact without your eyes crossing. Neither of you let go, your breath puffing out in wisps in the cold night air.

“I love you too,” You breathed, “I could grow old with you, Winston.”

Spencer laughed, relief and happiness swooping through him at your words, “Gladys, I couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.”

Did you enjoy this story? Please consider reblogging or commenting to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Likes are basically just a bookmark!

You grinned back at Spencer, and then he kissed you again.

[troubatrain]

good for you - t. jost (part two)

a/n: apparently the only things i can finish are smut which is honestly on brand for me. this part is a bit of filler but to be fair this entire fic is smut with barely a plot so i meannnn but anyways, let me know how you guys like it :)

big shoutout to @hookingminor because nothing gets posted around here without ilyana fr fr

part one

warnings: it's smush time (smut)

So you fucked?

Mat was confused, posted up in his hotel room in Philly trying to navigate the bits of information he’d been getting out of you. You’d barely spoken to him all week, your classes were already killing you and you’d been missing the nightly Facetimes you promised when you moved. Mat thought there was another reason you were ignoring him, the evidence that you did the diry with Tyson was obvious. He was pretty sure you did, the mark on your neck wasn’t as hidden as you seemed to think it was, and you had a pep in your step that you only got after a good hook up.

“Yes Mat, we fucked,” You sigh, pressing your hands against the cool countertop and staring at Mat through your laptop screen, “This is your fault.”

“Oh it’s my fault two consenting adults had sex? Did he stay over?” Mat asks, trying to grab onto as many details as he could.

“No I kicked him out after a second round in the shower,” You admit, covering your eyes so you wouldn’t see the shit eating grin on your best friend’s face, “I kind of want to do it again.”

“Three’s the limit,” Mat reminds you of the golden rule of hook ups. You both came to the conclusion one day, if you fucked someone more than three times, you had more feelings than you realized and it was time to run or let yourself get hurt. Mat seemed to do just fine with it, and most of the time so did you, but Tyson was tempting you.

“Oh my god, he’s calling me,” You panic, Tyson’s contact flashing across your screen. Mat went to open his mouth, some sort of roast about how nervous you were would probably have followed if you hadn’t hung up on him. You waited for one more ring, not wanting to seem too eager to answer his calls, “Hi?”

“Hey,” Tyson drags out his greeting, pacing around his own apartment trying to figure out what the hell he thought he was doing. He wanted to see you again, clothing optional if he was being honest with himself, he just needed you to know somehow that you weren’t just a booty call, “What are you doing?”

“Drowning in homework already,” You whine, rolling your eyes at the chaos around you. The city has been jackhammering outside your place since the day you moved in, stalling you every time you tried to do anything.

“Everything alright?” Tyson asks, his voice was laced with concern by the crashes coming from your end of the phone.

“Yeah, sorry they’ve been doing construction outside since I moved in,” You sigh, rubbing a hand over your forehead, “I really need to get these done-”

“Bring your stuff over here,” Tyson blurts out, grabbing onto the opportunity to see you. He could handle hanging out while you studied, you were sort of friends before, how hard could it be?

“You want to spend time with me while I study?” You question, genuinely curious about what kind of dude you’re fucking wants to do nothing while you actually get some studying done.

“Yes Y/N, I want to spend time with you,” Tyson chuckles, shaking his head at your shock. Of course you didn’t do that with anyone hooked up with, but you’d never hooked up with anyone you knew outside of the bedroom either. Keeping both of those worlds separate kept your heart safe, “C’mon, I’ll even buy you dinner.”

Okay fine, I’m on my way.

***

This was much harder than Tyson thought.

It was easy at first, you came over a little while later and Tyson thought he could control himself. You settled on dinner a few minutes ago, and that’s when things went south. It was the pout, the way you looked at when Tyson said he wasn’t in the mood for sushi. You batted your eyes at him, a small pout on your face and the words Tys please following. Tyson was a goner, calling up for sushi almost immediately while you smirked at him for giving in so easily.

Now, Tyson was just watching you, and not even in a way you wouldn’t notice. Your nose was tucked into your notes, it’d scrunch up every once in a while and Tyson assumed that meant you got to something you didn’t want to deal with. Your cardigan had fallen down your shoulder, leaving a spot where Tyson’s lips could have just landed easily. Your feet were across his lap, Tyson’s large hands on your legs while his thumb rubbed along the fabric of your leggings. His hand was creeping up slowly, your lip between your teeth while you watched him, “Don’t get distracted princess.”

“You’re making that a little hard,” You whine, just as Tyson’s finger slid under the waistband on your pants, “Tys-”

“No keep reading,” Tyson reminds you, humming when you let his hands slide your leggings off. His lips pressed softly against your hips, your eyes far more focused on Tyson’s head between your thighs, “I’ll stop if you can’t focus.”

“Don’t do that,” You sigh, feeling Tyson’s smirk against your skin. Tyson chuckled, a finger sliding your panties to the side.

“This wet already huh? Physics must really get you going,” Tyson teases, glancing up at the book in your hands. His breath was hot against your core, “Smart and pretty is a dangerous combination princess.”

“So I’ve been told,” You let out a gasp, Tyson’s tongue lapping at your pussy slowly. Your hand fell from your book, pulling at Tyson’s curls. His mouth unlatched from your core, forcing you to let out a whine, “Tys that’s not fair.”

“I told you keep reading, can’t have you failing on my watch,” Tyson laughs, laying his head on your hips. He had you in the palm of his fucking hand, every bone in your body was on fire and you hated every second of it. The way you were whining for Tyson to touch you was uncharted terrority, a craving you couldn’t satisfy and it was going to get you into trouble. You focused on your work, a small hum came from Tyson before his finger slid up your folds, “Good girl.”

Your eyes were fixated on the words in front of you, retaining as much as you could while Tyson’s fingers were teasing your entrance. He was moving slowly, loving the way your body reacted to his touch in a way he could have only dreamed. One finger slid in, curling against your g-spot and pulling a moan out of you, “Fuck, I’m almost done-”

“Finish pretty girl, go ahead,” Tyson pushes, smirking to himself at your reaction. His mouth moved to your core, swirling his tongue around your clit and sucking on it. Your breathing was heavy, chest rising and falling while you finished the last paragraph before you were seeing stars. You tossed your book on Tyson’s coffee table, throwing your head back and grabbing his hair.

“Faster, Tys, please,” You beg, your hips lifting off the couch. Tyson slipped in another finger, tongue working against your core. He fingered you through your orgasm, fingers moving lazily in and out of

you when you finally came down, “Tyson, holy shit.”

Since when was Tyson this cocky? His smile was smug when you finally met his eyes, the same sparkle in his eye from the first time

you fucked. You pressed your lips to his, grinding your hips against him, “Your turn.”

Tyson’s eyebrows raised, a wave of shock over his face while you lowered yourself off the couch. You weren’t going to let Tyson just get off with a smile that smug. If Tyson wanted to play that game, you

needed to remind who he was playing it with. Your fingers slipped under his sweats, pulling down his boxers and letting his cock spring free. Tyson’s hand ran through your hair, a finger tracing your jawline while his thumb ran across your bottom lip, “You’re so fucking hot.”

“I’m aware,” You tease, licking the underside of his cock. You moved slowly, teasing him just as much he did to you. Tyson’s hands went to push your head down faster, so you pulled back with a smug smile that matched his, “No touching Tys.”

“C’mon, princess, that’s not fair,” Tyson’s hands flew back, a giggle falling through your lips at his whine. You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, taking his length into your mouth until you couldn’t anymore. Tyson groans, his hands balling up into fists to keep himself from touching you, “Fuck, your mouth babe-”

The echo from Tyson’s doorbell bounced through his apartment, reminding you both of the food you were supposed to be waiting for. You pulled away, a smirk on your face, “I think you need to get that.”

“You did that on purpose,” Tyson groans, collecting himself enough to open the door for your food. You waited patiently, watching the way Tyson snapped back into the incredibly kind man you’d always known. If he thought you were dangerous, then he was absolutely lethal with the way he could speak to you as filthy as he did and smile as kindly as he does to others. He closed the door, watching back over to the couch where you were still sitting in just your panties and a tank top, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, “Let’s get you fed babe, I’ve got plans for us.”

“Hm, how about you eat it off of me?”

“I swear Y/N, you’re never leaving this apartment.”

[fuwushiguro]

@nomadmilk​ thank you sooooo much for the congrats gorg!! sorry its taken so long to write this, but welcome to bunny life!! hope u have a fantastic shift and enjoy ur time with hawks (he’s super popular at these things!!)

This is part of my Playboy Mansion event which is now closed.

Hawks x f!reader

Genre: smut

Warnings: 18+, consensual sex, mentions of alcohol, oral (male receiving), fingering, mentions of cum, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, car sex, daddy kink, praise kink, degradation.

Words: 2k

The party was in full swing. Everyone was chatting, laughing, dancing, generally having a great time. So why were you so bored? This is your latest in a long line of Playboy parties. They’re fun, of course they’re fun. That’s why so many people come to attend these things after all. It’s such an exclusive event, invite only and only those in the know get the special pink envelope in the post every time the function comes around. But it’s the same every time, it’s the same smiling, happy faces dancing and drinking every single time. You were bored.

You needed some excitement.

You got more than you bargained for when a trio of bunnies approached you. They cat walked over to you, one slightly in front of the others. These particular bunnies are a group of girls you haven’t really taken the time to get to know. You say hello in passing, but nothing more past that. They looked like they meant business, like they had something to tell you about.

“You do work here, yes?” the leader questioned you. You quirked an eyebrow. Was the outfit not enough of a giveaway? Or the fact you see her almost daily since you both live here. You just nodded, simply. Not sure you’d be able to keep your attitude in check if you actually spoke. “So why are you just sitting here? Work the room, get drinks for the guests.” she commanded. You scoffed.

“Sure.” you replied as you stood to your feet. Before you could get back to work, she grabbed you harshly by the wrist. “Let go of me.” you yelped as you attempted to free yourself from her hold.

“What’s wrong with your fucking face? This is a party. You have the best job in the world, seem a little happy about it.” she scolded as she got in your face. Just as you were about to use your free hand to slap her across her stupid smug face, a third party intervened and snatched her away from you.

“Behave little bunny.” he spoke. Her features instantly transformed from furious to flirtatious.

It was Keigo Takami. You’d seen him around before, but never spoke to him. You’d never been this close to him. Most of the bunnies had a soft spot for Keigo, and it wasn’t hard to see why. He was pretty. A pretty blonde stranger with a splash of mystery. What wasn’t to like? He was a big flirt too; you’d heard several stories exchanged of him from the other girls. He’d fucked quite a few of them, even though it was against the rules.

“Keigo!” she began excitedly, “nice to see you again baby… You wanna go somewhere?” she asked him. He looked over to you, but you paid him no mind. You picked up your cocktail tray and wandered off towards the bar.

“Not tonight.” he simply stated as he followed you.

He tapped your right shoulder and you immediately looked to see who it was, when you didn’t immediately see him you turned to your left to see him smiling. He clearly thought it was amusing, but you were in no mood. You gave him a half hearted smile as you reached the bar, you set your tray down and waited for the bar staff to fill it up with drinks for you to carry.

“Tough night?” Keigo questioned. You nodded.

“Apparently your girlfriend doesn’t like me too much.” you responded. He shook his head, immediately denying the accusing tone to your voice. Keigo doesn’t do girlfriends. Before he lets you pick up your serving tray, he rests his heavy hand on it preventing you from lifting.

“Apologies if this comes off a little forward or… you know… inappropriate,” he began, “but do you wanna come and take a breather in my car with me?”

You knew what he was doing. It wasn’t as smooth of a line as he thought it was. But he was staring into your eyes, you were staring back into the pretty pools of honey that were fixated on you. Your hand was on his as you had placed it there when you initially wanted your tray back. It was silly that you were even contemplating it, but the overwhelming adrenaline from the bitch bunny’s confrontation had your train of thought all over the place. You couldn’t think straight. You couldn’t think what a good and bad idea was. You just wanted some air, you wanted to be out of here. So, you held his gaze and parted your lips.

“Yes.”

☆ ☆ ☆

You left together, and no one seemed to notice. There were so many guests and a large selection of bunny girls, who would care if two people went missing? He opened the passenger side door for you. So chivalrous. You thought to yourself. When he began driving, he put a hand onto your headrest. His face was a little too close to yours as he reversed, he poked his tongue out as he was concentrating. You felt the blood fill your face, warming your cheeks from slight embarrassment. You did your best to turn away and regain your composure. The little act didn’t go unnoticed, Keigo looked at you and smiled.

“Are you nervous?” he queried.

“A little.” you confessed.

He began driving around the back of the mansion. There were so many acres to the yard, only a small fraction was used by the guests for these parties. But still, you’re fairly sure people aren’t meant to drive on the perfectly mowed grass.

“I don’t think you should be doing this.” you told him, but he didn’t stop. Plunging further and further into the darkness of the unlit field.

“Don’t worry babe, me and your boss go back.” he told you. The pet name making you dizzy.

The car came to a stop. Silence. You knew what was about to happen. He knew what was about to happen. But the tension in the air was immeasurable. It was a waiting game to see who’d make the first move. You could barely look in his direction. The tense atmosphere could be cut with a knife.

☆ ☆ ☆

“Good girl…” he cooed. Your throat accommodating seven inches of his fat veiny cock. Your eyes watered, but you didn’t care. His hand rested delicately on the crown of your head while you went at your own pace.

You sloshed your tongue around his erection, stimulating each vein as you bobbed up and down.

“Such a good fucking bunny, aren’t you? My little cock slut.” he praised.

You felt shame that you were just another bunny on his ever growing list of conquests, but in this moment with his cock head nudging your tonsils, you’re finding it difficult to care. When you lifted your head, he wrapped a fist around the base of his shaft and started jerking himself off. He forced your head back to his cock, you let him fill your wet cavern with his tip. You knew he was close, his moaning was like music to your ears.

“Hnng. – fuck – fucking hell sweetheart I’m gonna fucking cum.” he announced. You hummed approvingly. “Gonna take it all aren’t you? Take all of my fucking cum you – jesus fuck - you little slutty bunny, take daddy’s cum.” he pumped his cock a couple of more times before spilling into you with a needy high pitch whine. Thick white ropes filled into your mouth and you swallowed almost instantly.

“Thank you.” you smiled sweetly, showing him the lack of cum in your mouth. He was still heaving from his orgasm. There was a sheen layer of sweat clinging to his skin, little beads dripping down his forehead.

“Fuckin’ hell sweetheart.” he spoke, it sounded like more praise. Like he was impressed with you. The thought of making him proud went straight to your aching cunt. He took a few more moments to settle himself down and regain his composure. When his breathing steadied, he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you onto his lap. He kissed you deeply while you positioned yourself to straddle him on the driver’s seat. He slowly unbuttoned the bottom of your corset, revealing your lacy black panties that resided underneath. He pushed them to the side and ran a single digit up the length of your slit. The feeling made you shudder and collapse your body onto his.

His cock was back to full mast, he used the tip head to explore your folds before plunging into you.

“Hnng… Daddy…” you mewled, earning a scoff from the blonde.

“You’re like that huh? A slut for daddy like that? Get yourself off,” he commanded, “Go on, get yourself off on daddy’s cock.”

You descended onto his length and he sat snugly at your cervix. You wrapped your arms around his neck to steady yourself. He pulled down the front of your corset, wanting to watch your tits bounce as you used him to get off. He used his tongue to dance over your left nipple and a free hand to roll your right one between his finger and thumb. The occasional pinch forcing you to clench around him. You were bouncing on him, taking him so well. He took a moment to look at your face, admiring the way your eyes scrunched and lips pouted as little ‘ooo’ sounds escaped.

“That’s it baby girl, just like that.” he smiled. The sweet pet name was enough incentive to make you pick up the pace. Raising higher and sinking lower on his fat cock, each vein hitting every sweet spot inside of you. You could feel the car rocking. But you didn’t care. No one would know, no one could see, no one could hear.

“D-daddy, oh! Oh daddy! Fuck!” you cried.

“Yeah babe, just like that. Juuuuust like that baby. Fuck you’re such a good slut for daddy aren’t you?” he told you. His fingers dug into the supple flesh of your hips, and you’re sure tomorrow they’ll turn into beautiful blue blooms to remind you of who you belonged to tonight. He started meeting your motions, thrusting up inside you and hitting deeper than you could by yourself.

“Hnng. Keigo! Gonna, gonna cum daddy!” you practically shouted, the feeling of the coil within you coming undone. He couldn’t respond, he had reached his peak for the second time and was soiling your insides. But you didn’t stop, he didn’t stop either. He wanted to fuck his seed further into you, his bruising thrusts were relentless.

“Good girl, you can do it. Doing such a good job f’me.” he told you.

Within seconds he felt your cunt clamp him in, he didn’t think he had anything more to give you but the feeling of your glorious snatch trapping him unravelled him once again. Depositing more of his load into your tight pussy. You collapsed on him once again, moaning into his ear as you came around his cock. You moved your body back slightly to look at him, kissing him deeply. Your tongue massaging his as you carried on panting into each other. You carried on warming his cock, but parted your bodies slightly so you could calm down. He looked down at where the two of you were connected and snickered.

“What a pretty little mess you made.” he commented. When you looked there was a mixture of his cum and your slick stuck to his trousers. You looked at him, innocently batting your lashes.

You had officially made the list of bunnies that Keigo had fucked. But you had a feeling you’d be on an even more exclusive list of bunnies that Keigo wants to fuck more than once.

© 2021 fuwushiguro

I hope you enjoyed your shift as a playboy bunny!! Thanks so much for taking part in this event I hope this was worth the wait!! Mwah mwah xxx

[fleursdemeduse]

Remembrance AU: Constant Dying

This is not going in the direction that was originally planned, but I'm not sure I'm too upset by it. I'm glad to finally post a part that goes a bit further into Techno's feelings about you this time, though. I'm also starting to work on an angsty Simpbur fic alongside this one, so keep an eye out for that.

Warnings: Mention of death ; Near-death

Words: 3.6k

Your legs throbbed as you trudged through the multiple paths to where you and Techno had been mining. Your neck wasn’t fairing much better. There was always residual pain after a death, especially when you were killed by your own stupidity and not mobs or someone else. You were more than happy to take hits for your friend, often shielding his body with your much smaller one to protect him, but natural deaths were pointless to you. Not to mention that dying this many times in such a short period made an ache develop on the right side of your brain and you knew you wouldn’t be able to be rid of it for hours. You finished descending carved stairs to where you believed you had been and let out a sigh at the effort. Your chest filled with a dull ache at the action. A firework to the chest was certainly a quick way to die. It was far from the most painful as long as it got the job done in one or two shots and the ache would only last another hour or two if you would stop dying.

You thought back on how the events from earlier in the day had transpired. The entire thing had been a shit show and you loathed the next time you’d speak to Wilbur, knowing you were likely going to just yell at him. You weren’t in a great mood because of his little stunt. At least you knew why Techno had killed you and several others on the server. There was no reason for him to sit back and watch Tubbo be executed by your dearest friend. You could only hope that the boys new scars weren’t too bad. He’d have to display them for the rest of this lifetime, after all. Maybe he’d think they were cool like Tommy did.

You slowly unclenched your jaw and relaxed your shoulders, smiling a little at the thought of blond that you spent the other half of your days doting on. He was like the little brother you had always imagined wanting. Mumza had filled your prayers in some fashion, you supposed. A small chuckle spilled from your lips, deciding you’d make Technoblade pay you back somehow for your deaths today. You were up to three now.

A smile curled your lips as you thought of the possibilities. Maybe you’d steal his crown for a little bit. Or his cloak. You giggled to yourself as you crossed the lava pit that you were going to use later for obsidian. Mining in caves this deep was difficult enough without mobs so the lava was a good way to make sure none spawned nearby. Perhaps you could get away with all of the above with the addition of forcing him to make you a cup of tea. That would certainly be fair, wouldn’t it? You were sure if you convinced chat, you’d be able to make him do it.

The ore had been mostly cleared out, all that remained were long tunnels deep underground spanning for what felt like forever. It took you a good chunk of time, but finally you approached him from behind. He had continued mining, cobblestone covering the hole that you had fallen down and ultimately died upon impact in. “You grabbed my stuff, right?”

He pointed to the chest that had been set up, not stopping his assault on a piece of diorite. You flipped open the lid, pulling out several stone pickaxes he had managed to pick up. You didn’t suppose he had kept most of the stone, leaving it in the cave, but the ores, redstone, and lapis you had gathered sat untouched in the chest. “I don’t understand why you continue to use those. They’re flimsy.”

You shrugged before joining his side again, mining away the soft rock. “Because I can keep a large stock of them and don’t have to waste the durability of my diamond one.” You stopped paying attention to the coal you mined at above you as you looked towards him. “Besides, they’re expendable and I don’t have to worry about retrieving them every time I-”

Gravel began to fall on and around you in heavy chunks, obscuring your vision. You were startled for a moment at the sudden assault and you cursed your horrible luck. Of course the moment you were back and trying to resume your task, you’d almost die again. You recovered quickly, feeling the pressure around you as you were crushed and tried to dig your way out of the pile, but more seemed to just fall and replace the gravel you had just removed. It was suffocating. Rocks grated against your skin and you cringed at the sound of them rubbing against each other. You tried to claw your way through, fingers getting scraped as small pebbles cut the flesh. You were running out of air. You hated dying like this.

A hand grasped your bicep and you grunted as you were yanked out of the rubble. Rocks and flint shifted around you as it gave way and filled in the spot where you had just been. A broad chest cushioned you as you stumbled forward. You sucked in air as you rested your forehead against him. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone screw something up that fast before."

Your laugh was more of a wheeze as you smacked your hand against him, next to where your head rested. You didn’t move, however. Techno chuckled as he pat your back. He’d let you have your moment to calm yourself back down. He wasn’t particularly scared of you dying again, but he knew it had to have sucked. You had been taking the brunt of damage meant for him since, well, every time the two of you spent time together, and he didn’t understand why you were so eager to do it. On top of your clumsiness that already resulted in countless other deaths he didn’t know about, you died for him often when it would have probably only resulted in a minor wound for him. You were so reckless. But that smile you gave him every time somehow dissipated his annoyance more than it should have. It was familiar somehow. The voices loved it more than they should have. They loved you more than they should have.

You didn’t care who he was, how he was, what he did, if he could do something for you. You cared about him. Whenever he was giving too much to the rebellion, whenever he was hyper fixated on tasks and was trapped in his own brain with only chat as company, you were always there. They didn’t mind receding to the back of his head while you two talked, adding in small quips here and there. The loud roar they normally were was typically a small rumble when you were talking. It put him on edge with how much they liked you, but he couldn’t blame them. You provided conversation more often than not. You offered simpler solutions to long problems in his head he’d been breaking apart over and over until it had spiraled into a bigger one than it had started out at. But besides that, you also forced him to sleep, to remember to drink water, to take time for himself. To care about himself the way you did. He didn’t know how to repay you for the unending kindness you showed him. Especially when all you asked for was his friendship in return.

He felt you sigh against him and he moved his arm to free you. You were looking up at him, though, not stepping away.

"Are you alright?" His lips twitched. Shouldn’t he be asking you that?

"Yeah, why?"

"You look mad." A snort escaped him. You couldn’t even see his expression past the mask.

"That's just my face.” You didn’t look convinced. He ran his fingers through your hair, knocking some debris loose. It fell to the floor at your feet. He ignored the way you leaned into his touch. “I’m alright, [y/n].”

You smiled at him. You smiled that cursed smile. It made him feel worthy of the title god; so full of reverence and kindness. You had to have been blessed by Kristin herself. How could you still look upon him like that after what had happened at the festival? How could you show such adoration for a-

“Stop lookin’ at me like that.” He turned his head away. He didn’t feel like he deserved to be the recipient of that smile made from sheer adoration. Your eyebrows furrowed and your smile wavered.

“Looking at you like what?”

“Like how Wilbur looks at you.” Your laugh rang through the tunnels. It echoed off the walls and he couldn’t help the swell of something in his chest. For a moment, you reminded him of Phil.

“Why is it a bad thing if I look at you like he does to me? He’s a really dear friend.” Oh dear.

“Don’t tell him that.” The idea of you only seeing him as a friend would break his heart floated unspoken in the air. You didn’t seem to notice it.

“Why not?”

“Just don’t.” Techno stepped back from you when it was obvious you weren’t going to do it yourself. He watched you deflate slightly and felt like he had done something wrong.

“It’s not like he wants to talk to me now anyways.” You picked up your pickaxe again, moving to work on the pile of gravel. He offered you his shovel and you took it. “He hasn’t said a word to me since the festival earlier.”

“I’m honestly surprised you’re still talkin’ to either of us after that debacle.” You paused your digging to look at him curiously. “After me bein’ peer pressured into killin’ Tubbo and everyone else. Killin’ you. His plan to do nothin’ ‘bout it. It’s surprisin’ that you aren’t givin’ us both the silent treatment.”

You scoffed, going back to the gravel in front of you. “That wasn’t his plan.”

Techno stilled, his eyebrows furrowing. “What?”

“Wilbur wasn’t planning on just doing nothing. He has TNT planted all around Manburg.” You hesitated, the grip on his shovel tightening in your trembling hands as you continued digging. “I don’t know why he didn’t set it off.”

There was no sound next to you or behind you. Stopping your work, you looked at him, only to see him looking towards where the mouth of the cave was. “We should be gettin’ back.”

A soft sigh left your mouth. “Go on ahead, I’m right behind you.”

You didn’t want to face the fallout.

You returned to Pogtopia late that night. Mining alone had been a good way to soothe your nerves after the events that had happened earlier. Whilst you had wished Techno had been there longer, you understood wanting to regroup. Today had been stressful for all of you.

You walked down the crude steps that had been made after putting the excess resources into the communal chest at the top. There was soft murmuring and the distant sound of Wilbur’s cackle put you a little on edge, but you soldiered on. It’s okay. Tubbo hopefully would have respawned by now. Things would go on. You froze at the top of the walkway down to the primary meeting area.

Techno was wrapping his knuckles with some extra gauze you recognized to be from your chest. Tommy was sitting a little away from him, his back to the wall and his knees to his chest. There was a distant look in his eyes as he stared at the ground in front of him. You could see a sliver of one of your plasters on his face, the bluish purple fabric and white dots a dark galaxy against his pale cheek. Your feet were moving before your brain as you ran to the teenage boy and knelt before him. You should have come back sooner. You reached out to hold him before hesitating, choosing instead to extend your hand to examine the flesh around the bandage. “You look horrible, Tommy. What happened? I thought you were safe after what happened at the festival.”

Techno grunted from the sidelines. “We resolved our issues.”

The boy before you huffed, still looking at the ground, but he leaned into your touch. “Resolved is a strong word, but we’re okay. For now.” He looked up at you and you pursed your lips together. He relaxed at the worry in your eyes. He was safe with you. “Where were you?”

“I was mining. I needed to blow off steam after all of that.” The blond just nodded, pressing his face further into your touch. You moved closer to brush some of the golden locks away from his face with your free hand. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Techno was suddenly beside you both, towering over the two of you. “It stays in the pit.”

You sent him an inquisitive look. “The pit?”

He only nodded and your frown deepened. Anger started to fester in you. Did he do this? To a child? “We are definitely discussing this later, Technoblade.” You watched his shoulders tense for a moment. You didn’t know if it was because of your tone or the use of his full name, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care at the moment. You’d take care of it later. You two always talked things through, and now would not be any different, but you had to worry about Tommy. “You can’t just hurt people and say things are better now.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but you were already helping the blond up to shuffle him to your bed. The child kept trying to wave you off, but you persisted. Despite your ire against him, something shifted in his chest at watching how gentle you were with Tommy. His bond with you was truly something to behold.

Why aren’t they paying attention to us like earlier?

They’re so sweet to him.

Tommy's lucky we didn’t accidentally kill him.

I wonder how they’re so close.

E.

I don’t want to talk to them later.

Why are they mad at us?

E.

So they’re not upset about the festival, but they’re upset about a fight with Tommy? That makes no sense.

Follow them.

This is stupid.

E.

Do they like him more?

Techno sat back in his spot against the ravine wall. He saw traces of a fireplace and used the heel of his boot to push around the sooty remains. Most of the questions chat had were valid, but he didn’t want to pursue you. He didn’t want to have that conversation later, either. He just wanted to move on. But he knew you wouldn’t. Something about how resentment ruins friendships and miscommunication was the biggest cause. He could never resent you. Sometimes he resented the gods, but never you.

He wanted to know what kind of entertainment DreamXD and Kristin got out of watching them over and over and over again. Did they have nothing better to do than continuously create and orchestrate each new lifetime? Each new world with different rules and a different storyline? Or recreate other worlds just to change the plot? There had been so many, but this was the first where they all remembered. This was the first where he had met you.

Techno closed his eyes. None of his lives had been bad. Well, particularly bad. Wilbur always seemed to get off worse than he did. Tommy sometimes worse than them both.

He remembered a life of gilded castles, one of many. He trained Wilbur and Tommy in combat. He studied politics and was a general. He watched the two of them grow up in Phil’s absence. There were handmaidens that were too bold in their words, butlers that were too polite, and inside jokes between him and the guards. There were dinners made of things that he only wished they could recreate here. He remembered that despite any squabbling, they were still very much a family. He knows Tommy remembers that one all too clearly. He doesn’t talk about it often, but Techno knows the look in his eyes whenever Phil is mentioned. He also speaks sometimes about the servant that once tended to his mother but he nor Wilbur could ever recall one. Too many faceless employees. Too many nameless soldiers.

He remembered a different life where Hanahaki Disease roamed rampant. The flowers infected most of the people he knew. Sometimes they got better, sometimes they didn’t. Phil would never catch it. The blurry memory of his friend saying so flashed briefly in his head. That fact didn't surprise him in the least. Phil was a catch. But he had never had to deal with the deadly buds either. He couldn't remember why. His head throbbed gently as he tried to wade through the fog. Wilbur had suffered from it, though. It was devastating when he passed. The flowers choked him, stuffing his airways with petals. Who had he loved so much it killed him? Didn't he love anyone like that? Didn’t he find someone so beautiful that dying was more preferable than a life without them? Maybe he did. There were small flashes in his head of the gentle squeeze of a hand and a smile that could snuff out the sun. Why couldn't he seem to remember their face?

There was another life. A life where markings appeared on his skin. Little scratches, cuts and scrapes that weren't his, doodles, words that he would have never written himself. He remembered sitting through a lecture once, smiling at the little stars that speckled his arm and slowly appeared like the night sky in the twilight of the setting sun. Wilbur had shown off the same markings, and it was brutal irony that the two of them shared this connection with a third. They would play games frequently. Mostly twenty questions or tic tac toe, but locations and true names were always burning scribbles on their flesh when attempted. They tried many tactics to find out more before Wilbur had told them both off. He wonders if they had found their third in that life.

There had always been gaps in his memory, especially when it came to his other lives. Lulls where the mundane had become just a bit too mundane, moments where he just shut his brain off and went by instinct. Things were easier when you didn’t have past lives to think about. When he didn’t have to consider if he had already learnt a lesson and was doomed to repeat it. When you weren’t around to give him glares and words of encouragement and cause disruption in his life. Were Tommy and Wilbur’s lives more difficult with you here too? With someone to tell them what to do and to patch up their wounds and give fleeting touches that were so soft it was like touching a petal? He hopes not.

A sound of distress comes from the direction you and Tommy had gone in and he turns to look. You’re standing there, facing away from him, reaching out towards empty space to someone who wasn’t there. You must’ve been the one to make the noise.

You turn around and his frown deepens. You look tired and more than a little frustrated. It was amazing how much of a difference you stood now compared to the person that clung to him throughout the nether when he had first met you. Your presence was easy. You didn’t ramble like he would disappear anymore. You didn’t look to him for validation with every move. You didn’t act out of the desperation isolation had instilled in you. You had settled like the missing puzzle piece they didn’t even know was missing. Did you ever visit the library that you had once called your first home?

He watches you finally approach him, sitting and leaning against his side as if you weren’t upset. You move to intertwine your arm with his, hand slipping into his own. He didn’t stop you. “Wilbur, he’s-”

“Crazy? Yeah, I know. He wants me to set off withers.” You sat straight up. Shock painted your face a hue that didn’t suit you. Or perhaps it was fear. He didn’t like it.

“Withers?” He nods. Your head spins back to the direction of your bedroom. “Does Tommy know?”

“Tommy knows. I went along with it.” Techno feels you scoot away, releasing your hold on him and he already misses the feeling. “It’s not like we’re tryin’ to salvage the place, [y/n].”

“I don’t want more innocent people to lose another life, Tech.” You look at him once more. “Do Tommy and Wilbur know that you’re hoping to leave nothing behind? Because they both talk about reestablishing L’manburg when given the chance.”

“I keep tellin’ them the truth, but it seems like they’re not gonna listen.” He watches your face fall into a look that he hopes meant acceptance. Your eyes moved to the ground between you both and you just nodded. You didn’t know where you would sit in the aftermath of this all.

Techno felt your hand slip back into his as you take your place back against his side. Pink hair was soft against your cheek as you rested it against his shoulder.

“One step at a time. Let’s worry about getting rid of Schlatt first, okay?” He just nods back, resting his head on top of yours. You squeeze his hand in response. You felt safe again, especially with him next to you “Now-

Tell me about this pit.”

[dreaming-about-fanfictions]

Choose Me Instead II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Chapter 12 of 27: Healing

Summary: Pretending to be in a relationship with Draco Malfoy to get back at your ex might have not been the smartest idea you ever had. Especially during your last year of Hogwarts where you should be focusing on exams and your future plans. However, you were just pretending. There was no way in hell you could actually catch feelings for someone like Malfoy. … Right?

CHAPTER 11 “CHOOSE ME INSTEAD” MASTERLIST

A/N: I’m sorry! I meant to post this yesterday!! But then I fell asleep early on the couch lol. So here it is! The chapter is a little slower buuuuut there will be more action in the next two chapters and Draco needs a break from what happened. I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!! THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT!!! <3

Words: 3.4k Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader, post war Warnings: some anxiety and mentions of suicide (but nothing too heavy, I promise! <3)

He’s just feeling a little down.

That’s what Blaise or Theo said when someone asked about Draco. When they wanted to know why he hadn’t left their room for three days now and when they wondered why he skipped meals again.

You know how it is.

Five words followed by a sigh and everyone understood. They all knew how it was. Most of them had probably gone through a similar episode at least once. When the Slytherins heard that sentence, they mostly nodded with a sympathetic look on their face and backed off. It effectively stopped them from asking any more questions. Well, most of them. Pansy and the Greengrass sisters were more than just worried about their friend and kept pressing on about what happened. However, to their frustration, Theo and Blaise didn’t budge.

After being discharged from the hospital, Draco went to his room. He changed into a pair of pajamas, laid down – and that was it. He slept a lot during the three days but didn’t seem to find any rest. He was being followed by wild dreams which caused him to wake up multiple times, sweaty and with a beating heart that almost jumped out of his chest. Theo got his sleeping medicine after the first day and it helped a little – at least during the night.

During the day, the nightmares came alive in a much more horrid way. He could barely recall the events in the bathroom, it was all a blur. Yet, he remembered the way he felt. Fear and pain and shame, all mixed together. You were there, holding him, turning pale at the sight of his mark and looking at it with disgust. There were tears rolling down your cheeks and he was left wondering if he had lost you.

You, the only good thing in his life at this moment.

Draco didn’t look at his wound once during the three days. He wore a bandage. It itched occasionally, reminding him of what he had tried to do. It didn’t work. Nothing would ever work. The mark would stay there until the day he died and probably even in his afterlife. It would be a constant reminder of his failure. Hate filled him when he thought of it.

“You have a visitor,” Theo said on the first night.

Draco sat up, thinking for some stupid reason that it was you. His heart started beating faster and he looked at Theo with panic in his eyes. “I can’t see her like this.”

Theo frowned and needed a second to understand. “Oh no,” he shook his head and smiled sadly. “It’s Astoria. She brought you dinner.”

Disappointment caused Draco to look down, his cheeks burning red. Of course. There was no reason you would want to see him. Not after you realized how weak he truly was.

Astoria walked inside, a bright smile on her face. She cheerfully started chattering and it irritated Draco. Later, Theo admitted to him that he instructed Astoria to not ask him anything about what happened. She tried to spark a conservation but Draco stayed quiet, his eyes fixated on the ceiling, only nodding occasionally. He didn’t listen to her and truly, he didn’t care what she had to say. She wasn’t the one he wanted to see.

The next day, Astoria talked a little less, sensing that Draco wouldn’t reply. She was right. By lunch on the second day, she simply put the plate on his nightstand and left the room again. Draco thanked Merlin for it.

“You have to get out of bed, man,” Blaise announced on the morning of the third day, just before he left for class.

“I’m not feeling great,” Draco answered and yawned.

“I know, Dray,” his friend sighed. “But this isn’t a solution. Have you changed your clothes once in the past days?”

“Or showered?”, Theo added as he came out of the bathroom.

He could answer both questions with a definite ‘no’. Draco crinkled his nose when he realized this. Even during the war, when he was at his lowest, he was always groomed and well-dressed. It’s important, his mother used to say. It keeps you from losing touch with the world around you.

“Go take a shower and then go to Madame Pomfrey to let her check out your wound,” Blaise decided when he didn’t get an answer from Draco. “And talk to Y/N.”

“No.”

“Yes, Draco. You have to talk to her.”

“You don’t understand.”

Blaise groaned. “I don’t understand a lot of things, apparently.”

“True,” Draco mumbled, not caring if his friend had heard him.

“Right,” Blaise scoffed. “Talk to her. The longer you wait, the harder it’ll be.”

Then the door fell shut and Draco was alone again.

 ***

After much tossing and turning, followed by a lot of cursing – Draco admitted that Blaise was right. Sulking in bed and hiding from his problems wasn’t a permanent solution and this wasn’t the way a Malfoy should behave. He could only imagine what his mother would say to if she saw him like that.

His mother … she had written to him two times in the past days. The school had notified her, telling her about the incident. He hadn’t read the letters yet. They remained unopened on the small table and just looking at them filled him with guilt and sorrow. She worried about him, he was sure of that. She had always worried about him and it had only gotten worse in the last three years. There was nothing more important in Narzissas life than Dracos well-being. He knew that and it made him feel even more remorseful. Nonetheless, he decided that writing to her would be the first step to get out there.

After a long shower, a shave and a change of clothes, Draco hated Blaise a little less for getting him out of bed. He sat down on the table and started writing. It was a long letter, detailing not what he did to himself but rather how his friends and classmates took care of him. How attentive the teachers and Madame Pomfrey were – and that he would be fine. Eventually.

 ***

“It looks very good,” Madame Pomfrey stated after she had examined the almost completely healed up wound. Draco flinched every time she touched the mark, keeping his eyes locked on the black fabric of his pants.

“Rub this on your skin twice a day,” she continued and handed him a jar filled with a red ointment before she turned around to throw away the used bandage. Draco took it and stuffed it in his bag. When he was about to roll down his sleeve, he suddenly hesitated. He bit his lip, unsure whether to ask the healer the burning question on his mind.

“Madame Pomfrey?”

“Yes, dear,” she sat down behind her table.

Draco stared at the mark on his arm before raising his head to meet her gaze. Who else could he ask, after all? “Is there anything … anything I can do about this?”

Madame Pomfrey looked at the tattoo for a moment. Draco resisted the urge to cover it up. “You are not the first one to ask,” she finally said in a soft undertone. “All over the country, healers are being contacted with the same issue,” she sighed and folded her hands. “I’m afraid, however, there’s nothing we can do.”

Draco had expected that answer. He looked down to the ground, pressing his lips together tightly.

“I’m sorry,” Madame Pomfrey sympathized. “It’s black magic, so deep and evil … finding an antidote is almost impossible.”

He knew that as well. He even knew it back when they burned the mark onto his skin. “Right,” Draco cleared his throat and began to roll down his sleeve. “Well, then …”

“But,” the healer interrupted him. “We won’t stop trying. And I promise you, if I ever hear of something I’ll let you know.”

Draco nodded sadly. “Thank you, Madame Pomfrey.”

She leaned back against the chair, a serious expression on her face. “How are you then?”

Draco shrugged. She knew how he was. She saw his arm, didn’t she?

Another sigh from her side. Draco wondered if she was as uncomfortable as he was. “Mr. Malfoy”, she suddenly continued with a firm voice that made him look her in the eyes. “We have come to realize that a lot of students were left with deep wounds after the war.”

He snorted. “Well, that took you a while.”

Madame Pomfrey shot him a sharp look but continued calmly: “Wounds that cannot be treated with traditional medicine because they are not … physical.”

She paused briefly, giving him time to understand. Oh. “You mean we’re going crazy?”, he blurted out.

“No”, she shook her head. “You’re not going crazy. I do, however, believe that you are in need of psychological help.”

Draco scoffed.

“Do you disagree?”

Did he? He wasn’t certain. Psychological help – he wasn’t even sure what that truly meant. He only ever heard about it when his family made fun about muggles, laughing at their weakness. “You sound like one of those muggle healers.”

Madame Pomfrey seemed to have expected that answer. “It’s not a common practice in our world”, she agreed. “But I feel it would be worth a try for you to meet with a professional to … talk.”

Draco thought for a bit. “I can talk to you”, he finally said.

A smile played around the corners of her mouth. “I had to admit to myself that this is not my area of expertise,” she replied. “However, we have found someone already and can arrange a session for tomorrow.”

Draco blinked. That was fast.

“Mr. Malfoy, I believe it would help you get better and prevent … prevent such incidents or worse.”

“Or worse?”, Draco frowned, not understanding what she meant. What happened had been a desperate attempt but he didn’t intentionally try to harm himself. He simply wanted to get rid of the tattoo. Was it dumb? Yes. Did he try to … Draco swallowed. “Do you think I tried to kill myself?”

“No, but …”

“I don’t want to die,” he said loudly but with a steady voice. It was the truth and Draco needed her to understand.

She did. “I’m glad to hear that,” Madame Pomfrey finally said.

“Good,” he nodded and let out a deep breath.

“What do you want then?”

The question took him by surprise. It was a good one. He didn’t have an answer to it yet. All he wanted was the confusion to be gone and the pain to stop. At least a little.

Madame Pomfrey saw his inner conflict by the way his eyes darted across the room. She smiled at him. “I think she can help you figure it out.”

 ***

The next big task on his agenda for today was finding you. It was something that turned out to be much harder than he expected. You weren’t in the Great Hall or the library or the Quidditch field. There weren’t many options left and he treaded the idea of going up to your common room and wait for someone to ask there.

Instead, Draco wandered to the Black Lake, hoping to see you among the students who were involved in snowball fights or walked along the waterside. No luck. Draco groaned. So common room it was, after all. Just when he turned around to go back up to the castle, he spotted someone else though. A head of brown locks and a laugh that belonged to no one else but Granger. Next to her, the boyfriend of the year – Weasel.

Draco hesitated. Should he …? No. No, he shouldn’t. But then again, asking your friends was the easiest way to find out where you were. So he tried to overcome his pride and before he could think of someone else, he shouted: “Granger!”

Grangers head snapped in his direction, eyes widening when she realized who called her.

“Wait a second,” he shouted and jogged the short distance between them to catch up.

“Look who got raised from the dead,” the weasel mocked and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “What the fuck do you want, Malfoy?!”

Draco didn’t even look at him. Weasley wasn’t worth it. Not today. “Have you seen Y/N?”, he directed his question at Granger.

“She’s probably hiding from you,” the red-haired Gryffindor snickered. “I know, I would.”

“Ronald, please,” Granger shot him a warning glance. Then she looked back at Draco. “No, I haven’t. She just said she wanted to be alone for a bit.”

Alone for a bit. Draco knew right away where you were.

 ***

Coming back to his dorm in the evening, Draco felt a lot better compared to this morning. He was relieved that talking to you went the way it did. He hadn’t lost you and that was all that counted for him in this moment.

Draco had stayed with you for a few more hours. You didn’t talk much and got back to reading your book. He had leaned against the couch with his eyes closed, listening to the cackling of fire and the turning of pages. After a while, you stretched out your legs, putting them on his lap. Draco had smiled. Nothing much had changed. You were there. He’d be okay.

When he got undressed and looked at his mark, he could still feel the way you had traced your fingers over his skin. A shiver ran down his spine. You had been so gentle and unafraid. How could you be like that?

For the first time since the Dark Lord burned the mark onto his skin, Draco raised his hand and … touched it. His heart rate was speeding up at the simple gesture that used to be so dangerous. Carefully, he let his fingers rest on the black color and then began to do the same thing you did; he traced over the outlines of it with his thumb. Draco was surprised by how it felt like … nothing. Like skin. It was just color underneath his skin, he realized. It might have been put there with dark magic but in the end it was nothing more than black color. His breath trembled when he breathed out.

He would be okay. Someday, maybe not today, but someday – he would be okay. It was a promise Draco made to himself.

 ***

The days before Christmas were spent with therapy sessions and classes. Draco wasn’t sure what to think of the therapist. Sure, she was nice and asked him a lot of questions but he still felt awkward. Growing up, talking about feelings was something that was frowned upon by his father. Even though his mother tried to encourage Draco at times to talk to her more, he kept the things that bothered him to himself. It was easier this way. So sitting in front of a stranger, telling her his deepest darkest fears was something he had yet to get used to.

Draco wasn’t the only one who talked to her. In a matter of days, she was fully booked and sat together with students from early in the morning to late in the evening. Even though the profession was met with suspicion, people still wanted to try it out. Draco wondered how long she would stay in the school.

Whenever he had a little free time, he met up with you, going on long walks in the snow or studying together in the library. The tension between the two of you had resolved a little and you were able to talk to him like before. He understood that he had put you in an overwhelming situation and the feelings of shame still hadn’t left yet, but you were there. You wanted to be around him. He couldn’t put in words how happy it made him.

The two of you walked through the streets of Hogsmeade today, looking at the Christmas decorations in the windows after stopping in the Three Broomsticks for a mug of butterbeer. It was the week before Christmas Eve. Draco had agreed to celebrate the holidays with your family. You would introduce him as your boyfriend and even though he knew, that you weren’t actually a couple – they didn’t. They assumed they’d meet their little daughter’s boyfriend for the first time and they damn well knew about his past. For good reason, Draco was nervous.

“We aren’t celebrating Christmas at home this year,” you said in this moment.

Draco frowned. “Why?”

“My mother decided it’d be a good idea to renovate the house in December”, you replied as if that explained everything.

“And?”, Draco asked.

You looked at him quickly. “She’s not done yet.”

“Why not? That’s a doable task when you use magic.”

“Ha,” you snorted and shook your head. “You don’t know my mother. She’s a perfectionist.”

Fantastic, Draco thought. A perfectionist would probably to be the first one to approve of their daughter dating someone like him. “So where are we celebrating then?”

“In a hotel in London, I think”, you gave a half shrug. When you saw Draco’s expression change, you quickly added: “You’re invited, so no need to ask for the costs.”

Draco didn’t look at you. He kept his gaze on the street in front of him, wishing that you didn’t notice the flush creeping across his cheeks. He swallowed and then cleared his throat. “I can’t accept that. It’s too much.”

“Don’t worry,” you said softly. “Please, Draco. They invited you. It’s fine.”

Draco would rather spend the holidays with his grandparents than accepting alms from your family. Before he could decline though, you continued: “Just buy them a bottle of wine and they’ll be happy.”

He gritted his teeth. His ego screamed at him to back away but then again – it was just as impolite to bail one weekend before. His mother would scold him until New Year’s Eve. “Alright,” he finally said. “You have to tell me what wine they drink so I can buy the right one.”

You glanced at Draco from the side, smirking. “Are you nervous?”

He frowned. “What, why?”

“You want to make a good impression, don’t you?” The smirk changed into a grin.

“Obviously,” he scoffed. “I don’t want to spend three days with people who hate me. I get enough of that at school.”

You chuckled. “Right.”

He couldn’t do anything against the small smile that appeared on his face. He looked at you and enjoyed feeling completely and utterly content for a few moments. You were beautiful the way you smiled, wrapped into your Gryffindor scarf and with sparkling eyes and lips that trembled from the cold wind. For a second, he wondered how stunning you’d look in green.  

“Do you ever think about the kiss?”

The words tumbled over his tongue before he could think about them. He scolded himself and bit on his cheek. Why would you? It’s not like … it’s not like it meant anything. It happened when he wasn’t himself and the things he said … Well, Draco would be lying if he claimed to not think about his words every night. They had been true – all of them. However, he was relieved you never mentioned them again. And the kiss? Yes, he thought about it too. Wondering if it had happened under different circumstances, how you would have reacted. Would you have pushed him away as well? Or would it have been like at the beginning of this school year when you met in the storage room? Not that it would matter. Draco didn’t (want to) understand why he even kept imagining it.

“No.”

The answer hit him as if he had sprinted against a brick well. He let out a long breath he didn’t know he was holding in. Oh. Obviously.

“It happened in a moment of … you weren’t thinking clearly.” You looked at him; a hint of uncertainty in your eyes. “Do you?”

“No.” He shook his head slowly. What did he expect? And why did it hurt him?

You cleared your throat, burying your hands deeper in the pockets of your coat. “Okay. Great.”

“Great.”

There was an awkward pause between the two of you as you walked down the streets. The air around you had changed abruptly and it was irritating. You kept looking at Draco, chewing in your lip.

 “Let’s go to Honeydukes,” you finally broke the silence. “I promised my father to bring him his favorite candy.”

***

A/N: I hope you liked it! I’d love to hear your thoughts on this chapter! <3

CHAPTER 13 Choose Me Instead Masterlist HP Masterlist

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[isthisthingeven0n]

nothing left to give : s.r

just wanted to put this out there. it’s been a while since i’ve posted, and this is something. 

you’re worn out, unsure whether the bau is your home after all. but the resident genuis won’t stand for that, especially when there’s things still unsaid between you both (2.5K)

It wasn’t as subtle as you hoped it to be. Then again, you should have known better working with a team of profilers who you consider family. Meaning in some sense, this wasn’t something that would’ve stayed hidden for long.

Initially, you just felt your eyes losing focus on case files. You’d been in California for two weeks on a case, resulting in a hefty amount of paperwork and the time difference combined threw you off, but it was meant to pass.

Except it didn’t.

You were beginning to get restless, waves of tiredness hitting you like a brick wall during office hours and Spencer was the first to catch on. Whenever you would leave your desk and later return you’d find a new mug of coffee, freshly brewed for you along with a small smile from across the room as you looked over in appreciation.

Convinced you had simply caught some kind of bug, you took a day off to rest. Yet, one day turned into three and once you returned, Spencer’s eyes widened at the sight that greeted him.

“Is that any way to greet your best friend, huh, Spence?” JJ chuckles, walking in behind you as she rests her hand on your shoulder, catching your gaze. You could tell JJ was profiling you with her soft Mom smile. “How’re you feeling, Y/n?”

Avoiding various glances from the rest of the team, you quickly nod. “Better.” You respond, wanting to carry on as if nothing were wrong as your glow began to flicker and fade.

“If it isn’t my angel, having returned from her duties in heaven.” Derek speaks up, happily walking towards you as Penelope remains in tow.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re back. I don’t know if you got the-”

“The animal videos and relaxing music tracks,” You smile as Penelope nods, Derek rolling his eyes. “I did, thanks, Pen.” You rise to your feet, blocking out the blurred vision as you lean into a tight hug.

Whilst in Penelope’s embrace, Derek shoots Spencer a look, motioning him to follow.

“Just take it easy, we can’t have half of our favourite duo going on us.” Penelope jokes with you as you watch Spencer walk sheepishly behind Derek into the conference room, the door closing behind them. “Well, if you need me, I’ll be in the Batcave.”

The Batcave had never appealed to you more than now. The dark walls, few visitors and all of Penelope’s fluffy things to play with. Maybe you’ll find a reason to stop by later if the headache that looms over your thoughts returns.

Over in the conference room, Derek leans against the table whilst Spencer tries to stand tall, his hands resting in his pockets. “Kid, what’s going on with Y/n?”

A heavy sigh escapes Spencer’s lips as his eyes fall to the ground. “What’d you mean?”

Derek shifts, his eyes hardening as Spencer lifts his head back up. “Reid,” Derek starts.

“She, she won’t tell me,” Spencer states, taking Derek by surprise. “I, I want to ask her, but I’m worried she won’t take it well.” Spencer sighs as he turns his head, looking out from the blinds to see you talking with JJ, a tired smile wearing heavy on your face. “We made an agreement a while ago to always be honest with one another, but I don’t know if that still stands.”

“Is she struggling with things?” Derek questions, resting his arms against the table as Spencer opens his mouth, but words struggle to follow.

“I, I know I’m a profiler, that’s my job but with Y/n, I, I hate doing it. She’s supposed to tell me these things, I don’t want to figure it out.” Spencer stumbles, but he knows exactly what is wrong with you, and that’s the issue.

“Judging by the guilt in your voice, you’ve already figured it out, huh?” Derek comments as Spencer nods in response. “You gotta talk to her, Reid before it gets worse.”

Another nod follows as Spencer remains lost in thought, barely registering the quick pat on the shoulder from Derek before he exits the conference room, leaving him alone until Penelope enters, announcing there’s a new case.

*

It was a long case, one that dragged out with several victims and a blur of family members cross your mind as you curl up in your seat on the jet.

Closing your eyes, all you can picture are those screams and violent sobs from the victim's families. You promised them you’d bring their child/sibling/friend/niece/nephew/grandchild home, but you couldn’t, you didn’t.

“Hey,” Lifting your head up, you’re greeted by Spencer holding a mug of green tea. “Did you know that Green Tea contains epigallocatechin-3-gallate, or more commonly known as EGCG. It’s a natural antioxidant, and that’s only one of the benefits from drinking green tea, did you know,”

Holding your hand up, Spencer pauses before sitting down beside you.

“I’m glad you stopped him before I did.” Rossi comments from across the jet, nursing a glass of scotch along with Hotch.

“Thanks, Spence.” You mutter, grasping the mug closely as the burning sensation trickles through your skin, but you refuse to let go. “Sorry, my heads just thumping.” You smile weakly to your best friend who wears that uncomfortable tight-lipped grin. “Don’t do that,”

Spencer pauses, his lips parting. “Do what?” He asks, shuffling in his seat so his body is facing you, closing off everyone else who is asleep or drifting on the jet.

“Treat me like I’m ill or tiptoe around things.” You sigh, releasing your hands from the mug as you rub your temples, the warmth from your fingertips soothing you momentarily.

“Then tell me what’s going on, Y/n.” Spencer states quietly, trying not to raise his voice as JJ stirs in her sleep across from you both. “Please,” He whispers, and the mere plead breaks your heart.

Closing your eyes, you shake your head. “I don’t know if I can Spencer,” You tell him, opening your eyes and focusing on his, how big the universe looks through his hazel gaze. “and it hurts to admit that because I care about you and, and everyone so much.” You never get overly emotional after cases, but with everything else, it’s just hit you.

Reaching out, Spencer rests his hand on yours, his thumb gliding over the back of your hand. “I just, I don’t like seeing my friends in pain and I just want to stop it happening.” He admits, his eyes fixated on yours as a tear falls down your cheek.

“Well,” A scoff leaves your lips as you take your hand from Spencer’s as you forcefully wipe your eyes. “not everything can be fixed that easily, Reid.” You remark before rising to your feet, shuffling past Spencer and over to the bathroom.

In a state of shock, Spencer registers JJ opening her eyes opposite him. “If that was your best attempt at comfort, I’ve seen better effort from serial killers.” JJ jokes as she sits upright whilst Spencer’s brows remain deeply furrowed.

“Y/n never closes herself off like this, JJ.” Spencer sighs. “We’ve been friends for nine hundred and twelve point five days. And during all this time she’s been honest with me, never once has she hidden something.”

Memories from late nights watching Doctor Who reruns, attending book signings or being Spencer’s plus one to obscure foreign films when no one else would go, you both were happy just to be in one another's company. Even if you had no idea what was happening during a film in Russian, Spencer aided as a translator, much to the others attending annoyance. All Spencer wanted was for you to be happy.

“There are some things you can’t share with your friends, Spence.” JJ reminds him. “Y/n might not have figured it all out yet, just give her some time.”

Spencer nods and his ears perk up to the sound of your footsteps approaching.

“Thanks,” You mumble as Spencer rises to his feet, allowing you to slide back against the window as you close your eyes in an attempt to sleep or avoid the inevitable conversation with Spencer. For now, it remains to be the latter.

*

Since you returned from the case, you only felt worse in every sense.

You wanted to carry on, you wanted to make this work because you loved this. No, you love this.

“Y/L/N?” Hotch calls out, catching you by surprise as you turn around. “Do you have a moment?”

Nodding in response, Spencer’s eyes follow you as you walk up to Hotch’s office, the door closing behind you and the blinds being drawn.

“Someones in trouble.” Derek sings, causing JJ and Penelope to laugh. But Spencer only tenses, wishing he could be in there with you, hoping you’re alright.

When you walk out, it’s been thirty-two minutes and twelve seconds, and during that time all Spencer has been able to focus on is the door of Hotch’s office.

Hotch gives you a curt nod before he shuts the door to his office, retreating back to his desk whilst you walk toward yours. “Everything okay sugar plum?” Penelope asks, wrapping her arms around you as you weakly hug her back.

“Yeah, I’m just going to take some time off. I’ve got a few things to sort out.” You explain, trying to avoid the concerned glances of your friends at the anonymity of your statement. “I’ll be back before you know it, guys.” You force a small laugh. “And I’ll only be a phone call away. I don’t wanna miss out on the action.”

“Like we’d let you.” Derek remarks.

“Rest up, okay?” JJ comments with a small smile as you grab your bag and coat.

As you lift your head up to wave, you focus on Spencer. You know you’ll always focus on Spencer in a room, no matter how many or few people there may be; Spencer is the first person you’ll notice.

More specifically, your focus lands on the solemn expression he is wearing. One you’re aware of but not well accompanied with.

“Take it easy, okay?” Penelope calls out to you as you walk through the glass doors.

Once out of sight, everyone turns to face Spencer who lifts his head up, forcing that tight-lipped smile. “What?”

JJ crosses her arms whilst Penelope steps closer. “Why are you just standing here? You’re our resident genius and you’re clueless!” Penelope groans, gripping onto Derek’s arm. “How can he be so naive?”

“I’m right here, Penelope.” Spencer speaks up. “But I don’t follow, for once.” He remarks, and JJ laughs quietly at Spencer’s attempt at humour.

Rolling her eyes, Penelope lets go of her favourite man and reaches over to Spencer. “Y/n, our sweet, loving agent with the heart of gold and the mind of a thunderstorm.” Penelope begins, and Spencer nods along, not wanting to interrupt about how a thunderstorm isn’t the best use of a metaphor to describe your mind when in reality it’s more like a-

“Spencer?” Derek waves his hand in front of Spencer’s face, bringing him back to reality.

“What about Y/n?” Spencer clears his throat, but the change in his pitch doesn’t favour him as Rossi raises an eyebrow as he approaches the rest of the team.

“He’s figuring it out, isn’t he?” Rossi comments as a series of nods follow. “About time, kid.” Rossi raises his mug to Spencer who leans against the edge of his desk.

“Just give him a moment,” JJ speaks up as Spencer fixates on your desk, your absent desk.

How every morning you’re the first person who makes him laugh from across the room. You bring him coffee or he’ll bring you one. You always try to persuade him to eat out, or go on a walk or try riding a bike after work instead of the subway. Spencer will sing along to cheesy songs with you just to hear you yell at the top of your lungs and dance in your apartment. Spencer gave up a chess tournament to go on a bike ride with you at sunset, just to see the warm glow against your face, knowing how soft your skin would feel against his.

And that’s when it hits him. Every single moment over the past two and a half years.

“I, I have to go,” Spencer mumbles, pushing himself from his desk and quickly walks out from the BAU, rushing to the elevator as the team quietly celebrate.

*

Spencer is running, and it isn’t a flattering sight to witness as he breathes heavily, bursting through the doors of the parking lot.

“Y/n?” Spencer calls out, running toward the far block F where you always park your car, hoping he isn’t too late.

“Spencer?” Your voice falters as you exit your car, wiping your eyes as Spencer pants, but still walks closer toward you. “What’re you doing here? Why aren’t you working?” You want to laugh as an attempted smile crosses your lips as Spencer’s hair clings to his forehead, his lips remaining parted as he breathes shallowly. “Okay firstly take a breath, you need it.”

Nodding in response, Spencer takes a deep breath before composing himself. “I had to talk to you before you go.” Spencer speaks smoothly as you step away from your car, standing in front of him as tears line your cheeks.

“Is something wrong, Spence?” You ask sweetly, despite your current state, your attention remains fixated on Spencer as he shakes his head.

“Y/n, I,” Stuttering over his words, Spencer exhales deeply. “I know I can’t make you better overnight, but I also don’t want to lose you- none of us do, but I guess I especially don’t.” Spencer begins to explain. “All I ask is that you let me in, let me help in some way, even if it’s just opening your car door or sending you those memes Garcia finds, I’ll do it.” A smile graces Spencer’s lips as you chuckle softly.

“I feel so lost, Spencer.” You admit, your eyes glazing over. “Of late it’s just all too much, I can’t, I can’t take the pain and sorrow of those who’ve lost loved ones.” You wipe your face, taking a shaky breath as Spencer steps closer.

“But think of how many lives you save, Y/n.” Spencer interrupts. “Statistically, those outweigh the lives lost.”

“I was expecting a statistic I’ll admit.” You joke, and Spencer shrugs his shoulder. “I know it’ll pass, but it just hurts.”

Spencer places his hand on your shoulder, his eyes scanning yours for any uncertainty before he wraps his arms around you, holding you close against his chest as silent sobs leave your lips.

“I’m always here, Y/n. We all are.” Spencer mutters as his lips press against the top of your head, lingering as he closes his eyes, not wanting to let you go.

Pulling away from his embrace, you cross your arms over your chest. “Thank you, Spence.” You smile sweetly. “I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

“I’ll keep you to that, Y/n.” Spencer chuckles before you lean forward, kissing his cheek softly before retreating to your car. “Don’t be a stranger, Y/n.” Spencer mutters under his breath as you reverse out from the parking space, exiting the parking lot as those words linger on his tongue unsaid.

[gumnut-logic]

Bandages

@sugar-fiend​ asked:

From your Touches ask - Feeling another human's touch:

20. Bandaging/stitching up an injury.

As always, BroTP of Scott and Virgil, please.

And this happened. Post-whump? Comfort maybe? Dunno. Let’s just say neither are happy.

I hope you enjoy anyway :D

Touches Ask Game - Send me a prompt

-o-o-o-

Scott was refusing to look at him.

His big brother carefully and gently wrapped each of Virgil’s fingers one by one, blue eyes focussed ever so intently on the task.

No words were said.

None had been said the last time Scott had changed the bandages.

None had been said at the hospital.

None that Scott knew Virgil had heard. There had been the fog of anaesthesia, but he could have sworn he had heard his brother crying.

Virgil’s heart clenched at the memory.

“I’m sorry.” The words were out before he could think better of it.

Scott’s hands stilled a moment.

Those blue eyes looked up at him.

Lips moved as if to say something, but tightened almost immediately as his brother swallowed and went back to securing gauze.

But Virgil had had enough. “Scott, please!”

“What?!” He straightened, taking a step away from the infirmary bed. “What do you want me to say?”

“Tell me you’re okay.” A swallow. “That we’re okay.”

Scott’s shoulders dropped just a little. He grabbed the mitten that protected all the bandaging and fastened it over Virgil’s swollen hand. “Virgil, we will never be anything but okay.” He turned away and began packing medical supplies back into their storage box.

With both hands swaddled in various layers of cotton and non-stick dressings, there was little Virgil could do to grab his brother’s arm, so instead he hooked a long leg with a boot. “Talk to me!”

“So you can argue with me? Tell me it was the right thing to do?”

“Yes!”

“You’re wrong, Virgil! It was the wrong thing to do! I had a plan.”

“You were going to die!”

“I didn’t!”

“Because I saved your ass and you know it. That’s why you don’t want to talk, isn’t it! You thought you had it worked out, but it went south and I got hurt. That’s it, isn’t it!” He desperately tried to pin his brother with his eyes, but the man was still refusing to look at him.

Deep and forceful. “I. Had. A. Plan. You should have trusted me.”

“I do trust you. But you were going to die, Scott. And I refuse to let that happen.”

“So you decided to sacrifice yourself.”

“That’s what you were trying to do. At least doing it my way, we’re both alive to yell at each other.”

“But…” And Scott’s eyes fixated on Virgil’s hands. “At what cost?”

Virgil blinked before straightening. “Bargain basement.” His voice broke on the last syllable, but he meant it with everything he was.

His hands were burnt…badly. The rod had been that hot, it had melted through his heavy-duty gloves. There was question of scaring, possible movement loss and nerve damage. “I won’t lie to you, Scott. I’m scared.” He stared down at the swaths of white. “But nowhere near as terrified as I was of losing you.” He held his hands up. “This I can handle. With you here.” He let his hands drop gently into his lap. “Without you…” He sucked in a breath and, straightening up again, caught his brother’s wide eyes. “Without you, the world just doesn’t work anymore!” He glared at Scott. “And I will do anything to prevent that from happening!”

Blue eyes stared at him for a full moment before shifting away, wandering, and latching back onto the medical supplies like a raft in a storm. “That doesn’t sound very healthy, Virg.”

Virgil shimmied off the infirmary bed, onto his feet, and pushed himself into Scott’s personal space. His brother had always been taller than him, but Virgil didn’t need height. “You listen to me. You are integral to this family. You are the damned guiding light of this organisation and I will not see you sacrificing yourself if I can prevent it. You are my brother!”

Scott closed the lid on the medical box and looked down at Virgil. “And you are mine. So how can you expect me to watch you get injured like this for my sake.”

“Because the alternative would have hurt me more.”

Scott opened his mouth as if to rebut, but slowly shut it again.

Virgil continued to look up at him and if the pleading bled into his expression, he couldn’t help it. “Please, Scott?”

His big brother stared at him a moment, his eyes growing glassy until he had to blink.

Virgil tentatively reached out a bandage-covered hand and brushed it against his brother’s arm.

And Scott grabbed him, pulling him in, holding Virgil ever so close and tight. Bandaged hands fumbled and stuck out in awkward directions, but Virgil’s cheek found Scott’s shoulder and he clung the best way he could.

This was better.

Oh, so much better.

Virgil blinked a few times, but held on as if his life depended on it.

“I’m sorry, Scott.” Quiet, an attempt at reassurance.

Something was mumbled into his flannel shirt.

Virgil just hung on tighter.

-o-o-o-

[windmaedchen-fairytail]

I drew this back in June but never dared to post it, because... well... OC-reception-fears, I guess. xD You gotta drag it all out of my nose, sadly which you are more then welcome to do! Or you gotta wait for ages, then maybe I'll post things once I am less afraid.

Anyway. Ivan may truly not have done all that much evil to Fairy Tail as a whole but at least one person has suffered in their name.

Below I just copy the short drabble I had on AO3 for ages now, in which Ivan truly shows his abusive side for the first time. If you haven't read it, enjoy (as much as possible given the context xD ).

warning: description of mild physical abuse and degradation through nudity (but nothing more)

His Other Side

“You asked them about Lumen Histoire?!”

Ivan put his cup down so suddenly the coffee spilled onto the saucer beneath it. Astra was a little surprised about the force of the older mages reaction and frowned a little.

“Well, yeah, that was already 2 weeks ago or so. They had no idea what I meant and probably already forgot about it. No need to break your crockery.”

Ivan raised an eyebrow, tightened his lips and strangely stared at her for longer than she found comfortable. This was new. He was usually so light-hearted about everything, grinning his day away and chuckling over everything. She didn’t quite know what to expect from this.

“Uhm, what’s wrong? I actually wanted to surprise you with my help but now you make me feel like I just murdered your coffee.”

Astra chuckled a bit but quickly composed herself as she saw no change at all in Ivan’s expression. Something was clearly wrong, for this would have guaranteed a smile on his lips before. It seems that he was very clearly busy with his own thoughts so with a bit of red on her cheeks Astra apologised.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”, she inquired softly.

Ivan averted his eyes and fixated the glass of water in front of him instead. He slowly extended his arm to grab it. Astra watched him pick it up and gently circle it in his hands. When Ivan suddenly thrust his arm out, forcing the contents of the glass to spill into her direction, she failed to cover her face in time.

With a shriek Astra got up, pushing the heavy chair back. She staggered a few steps around the chair to take cover behind it, while also trying to dry her face with the sleeves of her cardigan.

“Please don’t!”, she begged breathlessly. Her heart raced as she felt the dreaded wet run down around her neck as well. Why on earth would he have done that? He knew how she felt about water, he had told him all about it. Along with her tense body, she immediately felt her magic dry up, crumble and fail. She heard Ivan push back his own chair and noticed through her sleeves how he came closer to her. Embarrassed over her sudden incapacity to defend herself she kept herself hidden behind the chair.

“Ivan, please don’t, please.”

“My dear little Astrape…”, she heard his soft voice. He sounded so soothing and reassuring. Despite her urge to move away from whoever had dealt the blow of water, she found the strength to remain where she was. He was her friend, after all. She shivered from the cooling effect of the water and was thankful for the warmth of Ivan’s hand as he gently placed it on her right cheek. She looked up to him as he continued to speak.

“I am afraid there is something I need to tell you for we wouldn’t want you to make the same mistake twice, would we now, hm?”

“Yeah, of course. But why the water?” Astra felt her lower lip quiver and she had to compose herself to avoid crying in front of him. Water unsettled her even by accident and Ivan head done this on purpose. Why?

“Hush. I need you to listen.”

“Wait, Ivan, please, why di--”

Ivan had moved his thumb onto to her left cheek and harshly squeezed her face between his fingers. His palm lay over her mouth so she couldn’t speak and breathing through her nostrils was difficult against his hand. It rather hurt her so she instantly tried to pry away his hand but Ivan’s grip was iron. She wiggled and tried to tear herself away, but he just wouldn’t let go. He began to push her backwards and Astra struggled to keep up with him. When she felt the wall on her back, Ivan finally lifted his hold.

“Ouch, ouch, ouch, god, Ivan, that hurt! That really hurt me.”

He stayed close in front of her, so when Astra bend forwards in pain, gently rubbing her cheeks and catching her breath, her head brushed against the seams of his cloak.

“Hmmm, yes, I suspect it did, but really that was your own fault. I said I needed you to listen, did I not?”

Ivan sounded so empathetic and while she had no reason to doubt him previously, right now Astra wondered how sincere he was. How could it be her own fault that he grabbed her so harshly? He also still hasn’t told her what she did wrong either.

Anger dwelled up inside of her and ignoring the emerging tears in her eyes, she sternly looked up into his face, clenching her fists in defiance.

“Then why won’t you just explain yourself?”

The warmth in Ivan’s eyes disappeared and instead a very different man was staring down on her. That gaze alone chipped away Astra’s resolve. Something was seriously wrong.

In a flash, Ivan lifted his right hand and slapped her across the face. If her cheeks weren’t hurting yet, they certainly did now. The stinging pain and subsequent heat on her left side spread all over her face and she thought it even reached down her neck. The wall provided support as she felt her knees soften. Astra wasn’t sure what to do first: breathe, stabilise herself, protect her face against more strikes or beg Ivan to stop.

She couldn’t do any of those options, as Ivan didn’t wait for a reaction and instantly summoned an army of shikigami that laid over her shoulders, pinning her upright against the wall. When she felt his fingertips gently touching her hairline, she finally noticed how air-starved she was and heavily gasped for air. She couldn’t move her torso at all and her arms were stuck against the wall. Astra could however move her head and shook it to evade Ivan’s touch.

“Don’t you think it’s time to listen to me? You are making this so needlessly hard for yourself”, he urged her.

Astra didn’t agree with that. She was listening if only he bothered to tell her! She really looked up to him and was so thankful for all his help and advice, she had just wanted to return the favour. Being unaware of how she has offended him and receiving such unexpected, unwarranted treatment confused her and made her feel helpless. More tears filled her eyes again.

“Please stop this, Ivan. I really AM listening to you”, she begged him.

He carefully watched her over, as if assessing her level of attention to him. He sighed and guided a strand of hair back behind her ear.

“I fear not yet, my dear. But you will listen to me, I am sure of it.”

“Bu—” Astra was about to protest but a few shikigami covered her mouth and forced it shut. She mumbled against the paper but nothing was understandable.

Ivan’s hand brushed from her ear, over her cheek down to her neck. Astra tried to evade but couldn’t due to the shikigami holding her in place. When he reached her collar bone, Ivan felt the fabric of her cardigan and got hold of it, pulling it away from her skin. In less than a second the whole cardigan was gone. Instead of fabric, Ivan crumbled up paper in his hand, before letting it drop onto the floor.

Before Astra realised that he had turned the cardigan into a paper doll, he had gently touched the rim of her black string top and done the very same.

Ivan looked down on her, evaluating his actions. Astra’s cheeks reddened even more over this humiliation and she tried to protest verbally once more. He tilted his had and looked apologetic at the struggling young woman.

“That won’t do just yet. You really should start to listen, girl.”

Without waiting for a response Ivan lowered his hand further down and to Astra’s horror, she felt his touch on her hips. She didn’t even have time to react, gone were the trousers she wore and she stood in nothing but her underwear in his office.

Ivan placed his left hand above her head and leaned down to her a little. He didn’t say anything and his gaze was cold. Astra wordlessly tried to beg him to stop with her eyes and even more desperately so when she felt the fingertips of Ivan’s right hand on the string of her bra. Tears ran down her burning cheeks when she felt the bra gone. Astra shook her head and closed her eyes as if she could hide from the situation in the darkness behind her lids. What if someone came in? What if Ivan didn’t stop with stripping her naked? The young woman struggled to refrain from sobbing. Breathing was hard enough through just her nose. In her mind she begged him over and over again to stop.

In reality, he was not yet finished. Her heart sank even more and her chest tensed up when she felt one of his fingers slip inside the top seam of her panties. She tried to look up but due to the tension in her throat all she could do was cry when Ivan dropped the paper version of her underwear to the ground.

The shikigami over her mouth now disappeared and loud sobs filled the office. Astra’s shoulders started to throb under her weight, as she tried to move her legs, attempting to hide her shame from direct view. She just wanted this to stop.

“Ivan…”, she moaned through her sobs.

“Yes?”, he replied gently. He took her chin and lifted her head so they could look at each other. His expression had found warmth again and yet it was pity with which he looked down upon her. She studied his dark grey eyes for a moment, pondering in her misery what to say. He wanted her to listen… maybe it was best, if indeed she did nothing else. So she remained silent.

Ivan caressed her cheeks on which slowly dark red spots appeared where he had held her tightly moments ago. He nodded in approval.

“Very well, I shall tell you.”

His hand remained gently but firm on her face and all traces of warmth had yet again disappeared from his own.

“You will NOT – EVER – talk about Lumen Histoire to ANYONE again. You will also NEVER – AGAIN – take actions around Lumen Histoire by YOURSELF. And you will most certainly NEVER – FAIL – to report to me EVERYTHING you hear or otherwise learn about Lumen Histoire IMMEDIATELY. Do you understand?!”

“Yes, sir.”

Astra responded obediently. She wanted to know very badly what Lumen Histoire actually was but she was also absolutely certain that right now was NOT a good moment to ask.

Ivan let go of her and released the shikigami by her shoulders. He turned on his heels and made his way back to his seat, resuming to drink his coffee.

Astra immediately knelt down on the floor, covering her chest with her arms. She somehow didn’t feel like crying any longer but she couldn’t control her shivering. She was incredibly cold.

“Well, I do have some more questions. Why won’t you come back to the table and enjoy a coffee yourself? There is still more here.”

Ivan’s mood appeared to have found a reset and he rather casually invited the young woman back to his side. He didn’t seem bothered by the slightest that she sat embarrassed, humiliated and shivering by the wall. Astra glanced over to him. Was she allowed to talk normally now?

“I, uh… I have no clothes…”, she carefully reminded him.

“Ah, yes. Bring your paper clothes over and I’ll return them to normal.” He beckoned with one hand.

Astra sighed. That was more like Ivan’s usual nonchalant way. To her left was the sofa and she was able to just about reach a light blanket hanging over the edge. She swung the fabric over her shoulders and then carefully picked up the scattered paper pieces of her clothing.

========== END

[last-operator-standing]

Toll of the Bell

Chapter 1 - Ashes to Ashes

> Ao3 

> Chapter 2 (tumblr)

Summary: What now? He could roll over and accept the fate thrust upon him and die as Adler intended. Starting a new life away from it all couldn't be that bad either. Or…

Or he could finish the mission.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Violence, blood & injuries, anxiety 

Words: 2k

A/N: This follows the post-ending for my Bell. For the sake of the story, Bell saved Lazar and was forced to leave Park behind, but she still lived. Her explanation will appear in ch 2 ;u; Originally I wasn’t gonna share this but uhhhh here we are! I wasn’t overly happy with the ending of this chapter, but c’est la vie, friends. ;u; 

"I'm sorry it turned out this way." 

 Why?  When he tries to speak there's only a pathetic gurgle as the blood spills past his lips. 

 "I hope you understand."

I don't! Why? I told you the truth! His chest feels tight, like it's being crushed under an invisible force. Was it always this hard to breathe? To think? He can't be sure anymore. So why?! Why..? His fingers are stained in crimson when he lifts his hand from his chest. Why did you shoot me? The words won’t come out. Trembling, his arm falls back to his side, unable to hold it up any longer.

 "It was never personal, Bell." 

 There's a pressure in Bell's right hand as Adler presses something into his palm. His fingers twitch against cool metal - his gun? - but he doesn't have the strength to lift it. He can only stare up at the soft blue sky as his chest burns and he dyes the ground red.

 "It wasn't meant to be like this."

 I trusted you. Then again, he also trusted Arash Kadivar. Look where that got me. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…

There's a darkness encroaching on the edges of his vision. Panic builds and it only makes the desperate burning in his lungs worse. He struggles to force air past the fluid. A terrible bubbling resonates in his chest and Bell idly wonders if he'll drown in his own blood before he bleeds out. I bet this makes you happy. Adler's face slides into view when he kneels beside Bell: His features are blurry and the colors somehow don't feel right. But he's not smiling. He almost looks.. sad.

 A hand slides against Bell's cheek, pressing gently, tilting his head a bit to the right and allowing him a clearer view of his would-be murderer. It's easier now to see  how Adler's face is pinched downwards in a grimace. Adler stares down at his dying protégé just as much as he stares back, once vibrant emerald eyes now dull and swimming with uncertainty and betrayal as he teeters on the edge of oblivion. 

 Bell wishes he had something else to dwell on in his final moments. Something that was his and not the manufactured memories pounded into his head by Adler and his trigger phrase. He tries to think back to before the CIA, before MK-Ultra, before Perseus. All he comes up with is Adler's smug smile as he wakes him in Vietnam. Fake. How Sims and he recovered the Russian comms log during Operation Fracture Jaw. Fake. Fending off the VC attack after his bird is knocked from the sky. All of it, fake.  

 The anguish of knowing there's nothing left of him- the real him- brings a burning to his eyes. Who am I? Bell doesn't realize he's crying until a gloved thumb brushes a tear from his cheek. 

 "Hey." 

 Bell's cold. The jacket does nothing to keep him warm. His limbs feel impossibly heavy. Any trail of thought he has slips between his fingers before he has time to complete it. No matter how much he blinks the world stays blurry and he's losing the energy to keep his eyes open. He tries to focus on Adler's face but he's nothing more than a tan smudge against a blue sky. 

 Bell's so, so tired...

 "You did good, kid."

 Deep down Bell knew it was always going to end like this. He was never truly part of the team. That was apparent in the way Sims refused to acknowledge him (didn't their time together in Vietnam mean anything?) or in the pitying look Mason would cast his way when he thought Bell wasn't looking (like he somehow understood..)

 Above all he knew from the way Hudson spoke about him.

  Bell? Don't get me started...

  Are you taking him into the KGB with you? Are you crazy ?

  If we can't control the asset, we end the asset.

 Bell's eyes flutter close and they don't open again. The warmth at his side, Adler's warmth, is only there a moment longer before it pulls away and is gone, leaving Bell alone with only the abyss. 

 Dying isn't what Bell ever imagined it to be. He feels light, like he's floating amongst the clouds. The coldness has long since seeped away to a numbness and he forgot about the hard concrete below him. Bell can't hear anything, can't feel anything. The abyss swallows him whole. He bathes in its darkness and floats in its silence, drifting through oblivion.

 Bell doesn't expect to ever open his eyes again. Without medical intervention, there was no logical way he would survive the bullet in his chest. This makes it all the more jarring when he's dragged into consciousness. He simply lays there at first, the numbness creeping back in and replacing the blissful void of nothingness he felt while unconscious.

 It's dark when he finally musters the energy to squint open his eyes. Gone is the calm cliffside in which Adler shot him at. Instead, he's in an unfamiliar room with faded green walls and blankets around him that are far too stiff and cause his aching body to itch . There's railings on either side of him, the kind you'd find on a hospital bed or to prevent children from rolling off the side at night. Voices resonate just behind a closed door. They're hushed and aggressive but Bell can't make out what they're saying. When they fall silent the light beneath the door flicks off and he's left with only a digital clock for illumination.

 Bell drifts in and out of awareness. He can't keep track of the passing time. On one occasion there's movement at his bedside and voices filling his ears.

 "..ell? B…?" 

"Is.. wake..?"

"Damn.. all, he… again.."

"Bell?"

 When he looks up, their face is too blurry to make out. Someone joins them at his side, but they are too fuzzy to see as well. Their voices sound like they're speaking underwater; too far and too jumbled to make out. Moments later he's unconscious once more.

 It's night again once Bell is able to stay awake properly. He feels heavy but warm and the room spins when he tries to look around. It's not until he tries to raise a hand to calm the spinning that he realizes something is wrong. He only manages to lift his arm a few inches before something stops him. Confused, he tries tugging a few times. A metallic jingle fills his ears. Looking over confirms his suspicions: He's handcuffed to the railing. Swallowing down the building panic, Bell tries the other arm only to find it just as restrained to the opposite railing. 

 He tries to keep calm. He really does. But it's all too much for him; he should be dead, he knows that. Not chained up inside an unfamiliar room with no idea how or when he got here, or who brought him here in the first place. A memory forces itself to the front of his mind.

  Bell woke up to voices. "I gotta admit," the first voice, American, rumbled, drawing his attention. It took some effort but Bell managed to lull his head towards the speaker. Two individuals peered down at him. "I didn't expect him to recover so quickly." His limbs were restrained, preventing any movement. "He's a resilient one," the second person agreed. Bell did his best to hold back his fear and anxiety. This certainly wasn't Perseus nor the KGB, which only meant he was now in the hands of the enemy. He wouldn't let them break him. 

  Not again. Bell fights against his restraints as hysteria begins to take hold. I can't do this again. Losing his mind once was too much; no way he could withstand being reset a second time. A rapid beep-beep-beep fills his ears but the Russian is too fixated on freeing himself to pay it much attention. A light flips on beneath the door, encouraging him to struggle all the more. 

 "Bell!" The door flings open. There's hands on his shoulders. "Bell, you're safe!" He thrashes. The light flicks on. "What's going on?" The hands leave Bell's shoulders and move to the sides of his head, forcing him to turn wide-eyed toward a familiar face. "Bell, hey, calm down," Lazar sooths.

 Bell falls still from exhaustion. His chest heaves with each rapid breath. Eyes wide, he stares between Lazar at his side and Park, who stands tense at the door. 

 "Bell-"

"Lazar, what's going on-"

"Park, not now-"

"I knew we couldn't trust him."

"Park, please! You're not helping." The MI6 agent scoffs but relents, leaving Lazar alone with Bell. 

 Bell trembles with a fear like he's never felt before. "Bell," Lazar tries again with a weak smile. "It's alright. You're safe. We're at an MI6 safehouse. I'm, uh… sorry. About the cuffs. It's the only way Park would agree.."

 "How..?" Bell only manages a croak, throat tight. 

 "Call it a hunch," Lazar offered. "I knew something was off with Adler. Followed you guys. Got there after everything already went down. We tried to patch you up the best we could with the equipment we have here. You've been out for a few days." Bell calms himself and listens intently. The exhaustion is clear on the Russian's face. 

 "I just.. I feel like I owe you, Bell. You saved my life back in Cuba." Lazar sighs softly. "Park is.. weary. She thinks you'll turn on us now that you've, well," he motions awkward towards Bell. "Now that you've begun to break your programming." 

 Lazar's face turns serious when he stares into Bell's eyes. "I didn't think it was fair to cut you out of the picture before you had the choice to decide who you really are." 

  The choice to decide who I really am...

 The distress must be noticeable on Bell's face because Lazar suddenly lightens up with a smile and gentle squeeze to his shoulder. "Hey, it's alright. It'll take time, but I'm sure you'll figure it out. You chose to tell the truth, you can't be all that bad, eh?" 

 Bell's head is a hurricane of emotion despite Lazar's teasing reassurance. Aside from his meeting with Perseus, the implanted memories, and everything that's happened to him in the past couple months, Bell knew nothing about himself. Am I righteous? Am I a terrorist? Just? Prejudice ? If he's honest with himself.. he was terrified of the truth. It was so much easier to be told who he was, to do what he was told, to put his trust in the team and his life in Adler's hands.

  Adler.

 "Get some rest." Lazar's voice shakes Bell from his thoughts. "We can talk more tomorrow, sort everything out. Don't worry about Park- she's suspicious but she wouldn't hurt you." Somehow, Bell isn't entirely convinced. He doesn't comment on it. 

 ".. Spasiba, Lazar. For saving me." 

 Lazar pauses at the door and turns. His surprise turns into another small, genuine smile. "No problem, Bell."

 Alone once again in the dark, Bell takes a shaky breath. He doesn't realize he's clenching his hands until he feels the ache. It takes some time but he relaxes the best he can and takes stock of his condition. Head throbbing, chest burning, mind buzzing with uncertainty and raw with emotion, but undeniable alive . 

  "It's always been for the greater good."

 There's a feeling he can't quite shake. It brings apprehension. Bell's not sure what will happen next. Will his would-be rescuers turn him in? Will Adler come back to finish the job? Will I ever get my memory back? Many questions burn in the Russian's head and not many answers come to mind. What now? He could roll over and accept the fate thrust upon him and die as Adler intended. Starting a new life away from it all couldn't be that bad either. Or…

  Or he could finish the mission. 

 Whoever he was before Bell may never know. It doesn't matter; that person is dead. The CIA reinvented him and gave life to 'Bell'. Now he has to live with that. Whether or not they like it they gave him a job. Find Perseus and stop him. 

 He found Perseus once.

 He'd find him again.

[sewrb]

Enjoy some klausper fan fiction ༶•┈┈⛧┈♛༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

He faded away, Just like that, without even saying goodbye. Jesper never understood why Klaus just vanished, and his mind could never wrap around what he did wrong. Did Jesper hurt Klaus? Was Klaus sick and he just died? How could the man never know? Each thought making his mind think that jesper was the issue, making jesper hate himself more. What is the issue? Did he genuinely upset Klaus enough for him to just leave everything behind and run away. It couldn't be that true, could it? Jesper fixated on these thoughts for 2 weeks after what happened, then it soon became 3 months, 6,9, and more. Each passing day Jesper spent his time in the cabin.

He never got the chance to confess his feelings so he just stayed there in Klaus's smell and atmosphere. Every day he walked around feeling the small toys that were left behind, walking up the stairs and looking at the postures left over. Jesper even stared at Lydia's photos hoping Klaus was with his true love. That's something he hated losing about himself, taking Klaus away from his Lydia. Jesper sighed and picked up the picture frame, his eyes glued to Lydia. They then moved to Klaus, he looked so young and happy. Their height is still somewhat funny to jesper.

Jesper gently sat the picture down before leaving it as he walked off. He always hoped Klaus was back with his love, even if jesper loved the man. He knew they weren't meant to be, and at some point he was okay with that, even if it hurt. Jesper walked to the fore place and posted water on it, watching the smoke rise up through the chimney. He then turned and went to Klaus's old chair taking a seat, their size baffled him, but at this point he didn't mind. As it is true , late jesper yawned more, even if he was tired his body was sadly used to it, he barely slept, he just couldn't.

But, some nights he got lucky and ended up falling asleep in the chair. It's not too comfortable but he still likes resting in it, it reminds him of Klaus and it makes him happy. Through the days he finds himself growing more exhausted, his body just staring at the family tree, or what was supposed to be the family tree. It hurts him to look at it, but most days he just stands there, watching it, wishing Klaus got the family he so wanted.

Each day grows longer and more drawn out. Most days staying a dull grey, with a freezing breeze. This cold weather never worried him, any time it snowed bad, he'd be safe in the cabin. Even after the weather jesper would still stay hidden, Jesper eventually stopped taking care of himself, eye bags growing darker. His face got droopy and his skin wasn't as smooth due to his incoming facial hair. Jesper completely let himself go and there was nothing he could do to help himself. The male was tired and he just stopped caring.

At one point he pushed everyone away, they stopped visiting him, and Mogens even started to help post the letters due to jespers absence. This didn't help anyone, and their worry grew, but due to jespers moods he let everyone know how he felt. Letting the townspeople understand he doesn't want anything to do with them anymore. This hurt them, but they decided it would be easier to abide by his wishes and leave him fully in the dark.

During the night jesper stayed up, his body wrapped in Klaus's large winter coat, the smell of trees and firewood circling around him. His emotions out of control and his fear growing more tears started to fill his chocolate eyes. A small sniffle coming from the complete silence around him. Jesper finally let things out and showed how exhausted he was. Thick and heady tears rolled down his cheek and he let all his kept up emotions go as if they were nothing. His body stayed rolled up in a ball, his knees pressed to his chest. Jesper reached out and grabbed Klaus's pillow, wrapping his lanky arms around it.

Jesper layed there just letting the tears hit the pillow, his face buried so deep he almost couldn't breath. This comforted him most nights but nights like this were different. Christmas time was always different, especially for the blonde male. He tried not to think about it but his mind made him feel worse about the holidays. Each night getting close he found it harder to sleep, hoping Klaus would come back to him, only hoping… Most years he would sleep through everything, just to make things easy, only to regret it when morning comes.

Jesper looked out from the coat and sighed as he felt cold air blow on him. He tried to ignore the feeling but soon gave up and slowly got up. His feet hitting the cold floor causing the man to shiver, he picked up the coat and wrapped it around his body. It was heavy but it was fuzzy so it worked well enough for him. Jesper walked to the window and peared outside, the snow softly falling, the reindeer cuddled together in their stable. He sighed and almost closed the window before hearing bells. Jesper froze then quickly poked his head out the window looking up at the sky. He quickly heard a familiar laugh.

Jesper slammed the window close and sprinted out the room heading to the living room, his heart stopped as he froze. In front of him Inna night red attire was Klaus, his Klaus… his cheeks red as a rose and his white hair covered with snow. The ex post man just stared waiting for the other to turn around. Once he did, Jesper wanted to run to him but his legs locked up and he collapsed to the ground, tears flooding his eyes. Jesper sobbed and Klaus quickly walked over picking the other up bridal style.

Jesper thought this was all a dream, or some wicked nightmare to mess with him, either way his arms were quickly around the other. His face buried into his chest and hugged for dear life. Klaus moved over and sat in his chair remembering the feeling. The older man gently rubbed jespers back "shhh it's okay jes.. I'm here" he muttered letting jesper calm down when he was ready. They stayed like that for a while, letting each other cuddle and show their affections through silence.

Klaus looked at jespers face from a side glace, and a small frown on his face as he noticed all the changes. Jesper looked tired, and worn out, he felt kinner too. Klaus knew this was just felt, especially after leaving him so suddenly. It hurt Klaus but he couldn't do anything about it, right now he was just worried about being near jesper for the small time they have together.

Jesper slowly looked up and cupped Klaus's cheek "a-are… am I dead.. " he muttered looking up at Klaus. The male chuckled and shook his head "no.. You are not dead jesper.. You're very much alive.. I'm just here with you" the older male smiled and gently kissed jespers forehead for reassurance.

Jesper just stared at Klaus, his eyes widened. A small blush formed on his face, he then looked down before speaking "where… Where did you go..? " he muttered, not wanting to see Klaus' sad expression.

"I.. Well.. It was my time jes.. And I had to leave. " he frowned "I didn't want to leave so. Soon.. But I say Lydia and.. Well.. I followed her. " he gently brushed away the jespers' tears. The blonde male looked up at Klaus "you.. You're back with her? " he smiled softly, he wouldn't be hurt if he was, Klaus needed to be with his lover, not some Postman

"Well.. Kinda.. We will always be together but Lydia wants me to be happy.. And she knows I'm happy with you.. Of course I still Love her.. But I love you more jesper.. I wasn't able to tell you before.. But now I can" he smiled looking into his eyes.

Jesper smiled and let his tears fall, right now he was too tired to think and stop his emotions, he just let go and melted into Klaus's touch. He finally felt comfortable and happy, but he knew this time would be over before he knew it. He was upset but he accepted it. Klaus then looked at jesper "I need a favor from you jesper.. " the other quickly looked up "what is it?.. " he muttered, wiping his tears.

"I need you to keep going.. I've been watching over you.. And I've seen how you're changed. I can even see it on your face" jesper looked down embarrassed while facing the truth, Klaus quickly made jesper look him in the eye "please.. Promise me you'll continue.. I know things are hard right now.. But I need to know you'll stay just a little longer.. Stay and have relationships with Alva and the townspeople.. Let them help you.." Klaus furrowed his eyeBrows hoping for a response.

Jesper obviously froze at this knowing how hard it would be to gain everyone's trust back, but he knew Klaus was right.. And he knew he had to get them back. The male then nodded his head gently "okay.. I'll try my best to stay.. And I'll get better slowly.. I promise Klaus" jesper softly smiled, gently nuzzling their noses together. He cared about klaus and wanted to show that he would take his words too hard. Jesper will get better, and he becomes better he'll make Klaus proud.

"Thank you jesper.. Now.. I know you aren't ready.. But I need to go.. " Klaus frowned watching jespers expressions change "go.. Go where… you just got here" the postman said frantically, he wasn't ready for Klaus to leave yet, he still wanted time with him. Jesper clung to the other and hid his face on the other's neck. Klaus sighed and stood up

"I know you don't wanna see me go this soon.. But I have other houses to get to… and I want you to stay with me forever, but it ain't your time yet.. It won't be your time for a while. " he gently put jesper on the chair "I will always be with you.. And I'll always love you… you mean so much to me jesper.. And I'll never stop thinking about you." Klaus gently kissed jesper.

The other just sitting there not wanting to cry any more tears "I.. I love you too Klaus… and I'll miss you.. So.. So much" jesper wiped away his tears " I promise I'll get better.. Then you can come back and be proud of me.." Jesper grinned and quickly stood up just to embrace Klaus. He'll make Klaus proud and he'll show he can get better.. Not only for him, but for everyone else.

" I believe in you dear.. And I know you can do it.. I'll check on you every Christmas.. I'll see you anytime I can.. I promise " Klaus looked at jesper as tears flooded his eyes, they shared one last kiss before jesper was back alone in the living room. The male was confused and sad, but he promised Klaus and he wanted to keep true to that promise.

It's going to take a long time, but it will be completely worth it.

[hteragram-x]

Firefighter AU (again)

It’s been a while since I posted anything about this AU, but I got some inspiration and finished new short story. This time about Virgil and Remus briefly discussing their jobs and characters. I think you can read it separately and still get what’s going on, but if anyone’s interested I’ll link previous related posts.

[HERE] is the introduction, [HERE] are some general HCs, and over [THERE] you can find previous story where Remus and Virgil met for the first time :>

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Word count: 1348

Relationships: technically Dukexiety, but they’re not there yet

TW: mentions of fire (what a surprise), mentions of dead animals, mentions of a car crash, swearing

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The phone rang for about half a second before Virgil picked it up and gave his practiced introduction. It was calm and quick. Then he fell silent and let the woman on the other side of the line speak, listening carefully and responding with a few instructions. In an even voice he explained that the team has already been sent, that the fire engine was on its way. That there was no need to panic and that someone else has already called and now the only thing she should do is patiently wait, sit at a safe distance from the flaming car, and keep him updated if anything bad happened before the brigade arrived.

He made sure the woman was safe, said goodbye, and let the conversation end.

 Then he leaned deeper into his chair with a heavy sigh.

“I have a question!”, the loud yell right behind Virgil nearly sent him flying to the floor. He glared at Remus, clutching his headset and trying to readjust it before it slid off his ears. Why was he still surprised by these random outbursts? He should have gotten used to them weeks ago.

“What kind of question”, he asked in a tired voice very much aware that getting mad at Remus would only make his behaviour more annoying. Or worse… it’d make Remus upset... “The one I answered forty nine times already or something new?”

“A new one!”, Remus beamed sitting on a spinning office chair and moving closer to Virgil. “And if you’re exaggerating anyway you could’ve said sixty nine. That would’ve cost you nothing.”

“It would also cost you nothing to not say that right now, and yet you did”, was a slightly drained response.

"I always do!”, Remus giggled in a surprisingly cute way and leaned even closer, still remembering to not push Virgil too far from the desk. They were both currently at work, so distracting his co-worker too much and slowing down his response for even a few seconds could have potentially tragic consequences. Remus was definitely a careless person, but not when it came to other people’s lives. That fact was often shocking even to those who knew Remus for a very long time.

Virgil lifted an eyebrow making a “go on” kind of gesture with his right hand.

“Okay”, Remus started excitedly sounding as if he was trying to hype himself up to do something difficult. “How do you do it?”

Virgil lifted his second eyebrow in a silent question.

“I mean: how do you stay calm during the calls. Why do you even work here? I can scare you by saying “boo” in quiet monotone. And then you talk with panicking people who just crashed their car into the lamppost like it’s nothing!”

To Virgil’s credit he put a lot of effort to making his brain not fixate on the “Why do you even work here?” part of Remus’ words and not see it as a kind suggestion to fuck off. He mostly failed, but the intensions were there.

“I- I’m not sure”, he responded carefully after a moment filled with sounds of a chair squeaking under Remus who was usually unable to stay still for more than four seconds. “I have a separate… headspace for work, I suppose. I dunno how to explain it. Just like… switching to a different mindset when it’s something professional. Don’t you have the same thing with putting down the fire? I assume you don’t stare creepily at other people when you enter the building that’s in flames”, he added with a small smile, reminiscing their first encounter.

“Usually I don’t”, Remus answered with slightly disturbing, cheerful honesty that Vigil learnt to expect from his chaotic co-worker. “But, yeah… you’re right. I can be calm when I’m professional. And I’m way less tempted to taste fire when I’m fighting it. You know? Like… you don’t think so much about eating a bear when it’s chasing you down the extremely narrow path where trees are getting closer and closer until the forest gets very dark and there is no way to escape anymore.” Remus finished a rushed sentence with wide, light-hearted smile that lit up his face not unlike a lighter with which he almost singed his moustache on regular basis.

Virgil blinked at him and slowly shook his head.

“O- One thing at a time, okay?”, he answered finally. “Let’s leave the bear out of this for now. I know I shouldn’t ask, but did you just say that you’re ‘tempted to taste fire’?”

“Yeah!”, Remus answered with enthusiasm sending Virgil another bright smile that somehow still looked nice despite some unhinged glint always present in his green eyes. “You can make so many tasty things with fire. Like grilled vegetables! Or…”

For some reason, the fact that Remus was vegan never failed to astound the confused operator. Maybe his dietary choices would be less unexpected if he also didn’t rate every dead animal he ever saw on the street on a scale from ‘probably inedible, not enough fur’ to ‘no one touch that! It’s my lunch’.

“…or potato chips!”, Remus finished a long list of foods. ”Those are kinda made with fire?”

“…yes?” Virgil said carefully, not really sure where this line of logic was even going.

“See?! Fire makes tasty things. Ergo, hypothesis, fire is tasty too!”

“That’s… that’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard today…”

“Well, jokes on you, because I’ve said something much more stupid only twenty minutes ago. You just weren’t there!”

“I’m not sure this defence is as strong as you think…”, Virgil sighed, annoyed at himself for a tiny bit of fondness that seeped into his voice. “Anyway! Please don’t eat fire.”

“Fine”, Remus said tipping his head back with a huff. “You’re so boring.”

“And you’re a dumbass. I can’t believe I was scared of you at first…”

“You were?!”, Remus asked delighted despite knowing this information before. It was always nice to hear that he actually frightened someone, even if it was a guy scared of drinking with a straw for the fear of chocking on it one day. Or maybe especially if it was that guy.

“Shut up…”

Surprisingly, Remus did fell quiet. They sat in silence for a few minutes glad that the phone stayed silent as well. It was nice to have a few minutes of peace and calm before someone else needed help. It meant that people were safe and it let them just appreciate each other’s company in the half-empty office.

“By the way… I do get the whole ‘work mindset’ thing”, Remus continued suddenly as if they never stopped or changed the topic. “It’s like I have a separate brain and personality that kick in when it comes to these things. I see everything differently.”

Virgil nodded in understanding.

“I’m less scared when I know I have to help someone.”

“Exactly!”, Remus exclaimed, once again almost making Virgil fall out of his chair. “I have that too, but I become more serious instead! So you’re a coward, but a protective one. Got it.”

“Get out of my office.”

Remus laughed and didn’t make a single move to exit the room. He sat more comfortably in his chair, reaching into a pocket for his favourite lighter with luminescent tentacles painted over sparkly black background. It was one of the most “Remus” things Virgil has ever seen.

The next stretch of silence didn’t last as long as Virgil would have wanted. After about a minute his phone rang again, distracting his from very vivid visions of the firehouse burning to the ground because of Remus’ negligence. He gave his colleague a brief smile and promptly answered the call, his head immediately clear – the thoughts about anything irrelevant temporarily forgotten. Few seconds later the alarm went off and the dishevelled firefighter jumped off the chair with a serious expression. He gave Vigil last look seeing his focused eyes and calm, patient face. Then he switched his own brain into appropriate mode and run out of the room towards Roman and the rest of his brigade.

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Next part is [HERE].

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My one-person general taglist: @imma-potatoo

My one-person taglist for this AU: @isabelle-stars

I used the term “taglist” very loosely here :D