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5-seconds-of-bucky · 3 years

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The Dock

A/N: So I’m writing for Bucky now...☺️ I wrote this for @wkemeup’s 9k writing challenge but also not? I’ve had the idea in my head for a while now so I thought I’d participate! I included the prompt, but it’s not so much the plot of the story so much as just part of it. Anyways, happy reading!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Avenger!Reader

Summary: After a long time of mutual pinning, a night on the dock helps you and Bucky finally confess your feelings for each other

Word count: 4.5k+

Warnings: Swearing, reader gets catcalled, violence, excessive usage of the middle finger

Prompt: Character A is the target of harassment on the street. Shamed, they pretend it doesn’t bother them. Until it happens in the presence of Character B, who reigns hell on whoever dared to upset [A]

---

You awoke to your head bobbing on the car window and the sound of crunching gravel as the car pulled into the driveway of Tony’s lake house. Your neck ached from leaning over in a strange position for so long and you groaned as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.

Bucky grinned from the seat beside you. “Sleep well?” he asked, nudging your calf with his foot. “You got a little drool there.”

“Oh, shut up.” You stuck your middle finger up in his direction. “I slept very well, actually. Thank you for asking.”

“I can tell.” You lifted up your other hand to flip him off again, causing him to chuckle. “Ooh, two middle fingers. I’m really scared now.”

The two of you were too busy teasing each other to realize that the car had stopped and Sam and Natasha had already gotten out of it. A knock on the window your head was resting on made you turn around, seeing Sam’s face a little too close for your liking.

“Are you two gonna stop flirting and help us with the bags or should I let you bake in the car?” he asked. With a roll of your eyes, you opened the car door, making sure to bump Sam in the process. Bucky felt heat rise to his cheeks, glad that you weren’t looking over towards him to see it. “I’m taking this silence to mean that you do want to roast in the car.”

“Sam, would you shut up?” you laughed, casually sticking a middle finger up behind your back as you walked past him to the trunk.

“You and these middle fingers today,” Sam muttered.

“I have another one if you’d like to see it.” You grabbed your backpack and slung it over your shoulder.

“I’m good.” He picked up his bag from the ground before heading towards the house, which the rest of the team was already situated in. You went to grab your suitcase but Bucky swatted your hand away, grabbing it himself and closing the trunk.

“I got it,” he insisted like the true gentleman he was. As much as you wanted to argue, you knew it wouldn’t get you anywhere.

“Why thank you, good sir.” You bumped his shoulder with your own and walked ahead, jumping up the three steps to the porch and opening the door.

“All in a day’s work.” He lifted the suitcases up the steps with ease and slipped past you to get inside. The feeling of air conditioning inside the cabin was a major relief from the heat outside.

“Glad to see the lovebirds finally showed up,” Tony said once you and Bucky were completely inside the cabin.

“You better watch out, Tony. Y/N’s got middle fingers for days over there.”

“Shut up, Sam!”

A chorus of laughter rang out throughout the cabin and you made sure to shoulder check Sam as you passed him to get to the kitchen.

---

“Okay, I have the perfect plan to get you and Barnes together this weekend,’ Natasha said as she pulled out clothes from her suitcase. You two were sharing a room for the week and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not. You loved Nat to death but lately she had been trying especially hard to get you to make a move on Bucky and it was only slightly annoying.

“The perfect plan, huh? Even more perfect than the last perfect plan?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I forgot to account for the fact you both have a tendency to wake up at ungodly hours in the morning last time. I promise it’s foolproof this time.”

“Well then, let’s hear it.”

“Alright. Before you got in here--you know, when you were busy flirting with Bucky.” She winked, to which you rolled your eyes. “Well Tony was talking about taking the boat out and going tubing. So what we have to do is get you and Bucky to go on the tube together. Tony’s a crazy driver so you’ll get thrown off pretty fast. Bucky will get so worried he’ll just have to confess his love to you.”

“Two issues.” You pointed a finger at her. “One, how am I going to get Bucky on a tube? It will be hard enough to get him on the boat alone. Two,” You held up another finger. “why would he confess his love at that very moment? That’s insane.”

“One,” She grabbed one of your fingers and put it down. “he’s whipped for you. I guarantee that if you ask, he’ll do it without a second thought.”

“Sure he would,” you scoffed.

“Uh, I know he would.” She gave you a knowing smirk. “Two, he gets worried about you all the time and I’ve seen him get close to confessing every time. We just gotta push him over the edge.”

“Bucky getting protective is just him being my best friend. He used to be just like that with Steve too.” You put your arm down, shuffling over to your own bed to take some clothes out of the blue suitcase on top of it.

“No, it’s definitely more than best friend love.” She moved to sit down on your bed.

“Either way, it usually ends in some kind of fight and I’d like to avoid that this weekend.”

“Who’s he gonna fight? Tony?”

“I mean, you never know.” It wouldn’t be the first time.

“I can’t wait to get back and shove these things in my mouth,” you said with a grin as you exited the bakery behind Bucky, a bag of donut holes in your hand.

“Gee, really? It’s almost like you haven’t been talking about it for the past three days,” Bucky chuckled, reaching for the bag.

You pulled the bag away from him with a fake scoff. “Oh, I don’t think so, mister. We have to wait until we get back. The anticipation makes them taste better.”

“You’re insufferable.” He elbowed your side and you stuck your tongue out at him.

“Damn, you looking fine over there, mama!”

You took in a sharp breath. It wasn’t all that uncommon for you to get cat called while out and about. You were in New York City, for fucks sake. That didn’t mean that it made you feel any less uncomfortable, though.

As much as it stung, you didn’t want to start anything. You stared straight ahead and prayed Bucky didn’t hear it. Much to your dismay though, he stiffened next to you, subtly glancing back to see who was talking to you in such a vulgar way. Damn that supersoldier enhanced hearing.

“Hey, sweetcheeks!” You felt a tug on your shoulder. “Didn’t you hear me?”

You huffed, shaking the harsh grip off your shoulder and picking up the pace. You expected Bucky to keep going with you so you continued walking, frowning when you noticed he wasn’t beside you anymore.

“Listen here, you little shit,” Bucky seethed, stepping in front of the man and blocking you from his sight. “She obviously doesn’t want to talk to you. Leave her, and every other woman you ever lay your beady little eyes on, alone.”

“And what’re you gonna do about it?” the man smirked. “She need her boyfriend to defend her?”

Bucky stepped closer, crossing his arms and giving the famous ‘Bucky stare.’ “Doesn’t matter who I am. You better back the fuck away before I make you life hell.”

A few onlookers started lingering around, some with their phones out and recording the scene, almost as if they wanted to see a fight break out between the two men. ‘Winter Soldier vs Everyday Pedestrian was sure to be trending somewhere soon enough.

“Buck,” you said quietly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and ignoring the obvious stares you were receiving, most notably from the man whose face Bucky was ready to punch in. “Let’s just go.”

You could see the gears turning in his head, trying to decide if he should let it go or punch the living daylights out of the guy. He let out a soft sigh after a moment, relaxing into your grip. With one last look at the man, he turned around and placed his hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you forward.

“Aye, it’s all good. I’m sure I’ll see that tight ass ‘round here soon anyways.”

That was the last straw for Bucky. He growled with a ferocity you hadn’t heard before and whipped around, not even hesitating to use his metal arm to punch the guy. The crowd gasped, more bringing their phones out to capture what was sure to be a great fight.

“What the fuck was-” Bucky grabbed him by his collar, pushing him up again the exposed brick of a restaurant.

“There’s plenty more where that came from and, judging by the way you’re looking at me, I bet you don’t want to see it. So do the rest of humanity a favor and fuck off.” He let go of the man’s collar and stepped back, unclenching his fist and pivoting back towards you. “Come on, doll.”

You shook the shock off your face and fell into step next to him. His arm warped around you, pulling you into his side. You could feel the fumes radiating off of him as you walked back to the tower, choosing to stay quiet as you let him cool off.

You paused once you reached the entrance of the tower. Tony probably already knew about what happened and he sure wasn’t going to be happy about it. Bucky’s media presence hadn’t necessarily been bad lately, but it wasn’t perfect either. The public was still wary. To many, the Bucky Barnes and the Winter Soldier were still the same person.

Things definitely felt off when you entered. You got the side eye from a few people in the elevator and you weren’t sure if it was because of the fight fiasco or because of how tightly Bucky was holding you to his side.

“Want to eat these in my room?” you asked once you stepped off the elevator.

“Sounds good.” His voice was distant as his eyes searched the room.

“Mr. Barnes,” FRIDAY’s voice startled the two of you, making you drop the donut holes. “Mr. Stark has requested to see you in his office.”

Bucky sighed. “I’ll be there in a few.” He picked up the bag and handed it back to you. “Apparently, I have business to attend to.”

You simply nodded. He went in the other direction towards Tony’s office pausing at the door before knocking. You sent him a thumbs up before he went in, but he didn’t look back at you to see it. You retreated to your room, placing your wallet on the dresser and popping a donut hole in your mouth.

“Maybe I should get a plate,” you wondered aloud. You needed to grab your water bottle anyways. Might as well make the trip. You put the donut holes on your bed and started making your way to the kitchen.

“She’s perfectly capable of handling herself, you know.” You couldn’t help but stop as you heard Tony’s voice through the door of his office.

“But she shouldn’t have to.” Bucky sounded stressed and you could only imagine the hell Tony was reigning on him. “Her ignoring him wasn’t going to do anything. I didn’t want to beat the guy up but he was harassing her and it needed to stop.”

“And this doesn’t have anything to do with any particular feelings you have for her, right?” The sarcasm was heavy in his voice.

“Tony-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Barnes. You know how the public sees you. I don’t know how we’re going to fix this.”

“That guy harassed her! I couldn’t stand there and just let it happen!” God, you wanted to give him a hug so bad right now.

“I don’t care what it was, Bucky. Having heart eyes for Y/N doesn’t mean-” You took that as your cue to leave. You grabbed a plate and two water bottles from the kitchen and made sure to take the long way around to your room in order to avoid whatever was going on between the two of them.

Bucky showed up a half hour later, plopping down next to you on your bed with a little more space than usual.

“I’m just saying, it could work.” Nat got off your bed. “The cookout’s starting soon. Put on something cute.” She was gone before you could respond, leaving you to look for an outfit that would, as Nat liked to say, “knock Bucky off his ass.”

---

“Ooh, Y/N, looking to impress someone?” Sam called out as you walked out into the backyard. It seemed that most everyone else was already out there, helping make dinner or sitting on the dock.

You stuck up your middle finger in reply, knowing exactly what he was trying to do.

“Oh stop it, Sam,” Wanda said as she walked towards you. “You look amazing!”

“Aww, thank you! You look absolutely stunning yourself.” Wanda reached out her hand and nodded towards the dock, urging you to come with her and join the group. You grabbed it and let her drag you down there, giving a small wave to Bucky as you passed him near the grill.

Bucky waved back, a grin spanning the expanse of his face at the sight of you. He kept his gaze on you as you made your way down to the dock, not even realizing just how intently he was staring.

“Someone’s staring at you,” Nat said with a suggestive smirk once you were close enough to the dock.

“He has a starting problem. We all know that,” you argued, sitting down across from her.

“I don’t know. He looks like he wants nothing more than to-”

“Nat, I love you, but please shut up.” She raised her hands up in the defense and Wanda giggled.

“I’m just saying.”

“You okay over there?” Steve shifted his focus from the burgers to his 100-year-old friend for a second, of course noticing the sudden silence that ensued the second you entered Bucky’s line of vision. “Buck?”

“Huh?” Bucky’s head turned sharply in Steve’s direction.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” A shy smile.

“Are you going to ask her out soon?” He flipped some burgers over and pulled the lid of the grill closed.

“I’m getting to it, yeesh,” Bucky chuckled.

“That’s what you’ve been saying since forever.”

“And it’s what I’ll keep saying every time you pester me about it.”

“Well if you don’t make a move soon, maybe I’ll swoop in-”

“Nope! You will not do that.” He nudged Steve in the shoulder and started making his way to the dock. “You absolutely will not do that.”

Soon. He was going to do it soon.

---

“Who’s next?” Tony called from the driver’s seat of the boat. You handed Sam a towel as he got back on the boat, drenched from flying off the tube a second earlier.

“You should go with Bucky.” Wanda nudged you with a teasing smile. You glanced over to the man in question, seeing him sitting next to Steve. He wore a t-shirt and swim shorts with a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose, and he looked damn good.

“I’ll go,” you announced, standing up and taking your t-shirt off, leaving you in your favorite swimsuit and a pair of shorts. You handed Wanda the shirt so it wouldn’t get wet. “Anyone wanna go with me?” Wanda jabbed your leg and gave you a playful glare.

“Go with her,” Steve muttered to Bucky, bumping his shoulder with his own.

“I don’t know, Steve.” Bucky sighed. Steve rolled his eyes, knowing that his best friend just needed a little push.

“Bucky will go with you,” Steve said a bit louder than necessary. Bucky groaned quietly at his friend, taking off his sunglasses and putting them in his seat. He made sure to give Steve a certain look before making his way towards the back of the boat. You both grabbed your life jackets and started securing them as Sam moved out of your way.

“Cyborg!” Tony called out. “You going to take your shirt off?”

You felt Nat snort as she helped you off of the back of the boat and onto the tube. “Yeah, Bucky. Why don’t you show off your muscles for your girlfriend here.”

“Nat!” You paused for a second to look back at her with fake betrayal.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” He snapped the last clasp on the life vest and checked to make sure you were all the way on the tube so he could start getting on.

“Oh, come on, Buckaroo!” Sam laughed. He started a chant of “take it off” with the rest of the team (even you, though you’d never admit it).

“Fine,” Bucky grumbled, hastily taking off the life jacket and shirt. He threw the shirt to the middle of the boat and resecured the lifevest, ignoring Nat’s hand offered out for help as he climbed on the tube. His famous Bucky glare melted off his face the second he saw your bright smile and he found himself smiling too.

“I don’t know how well this is going to go but it’s gonna be fun,” you said as he grabbed onto the handles.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Tony’s a crazy driver and we’ve never been able to get you on a tube before. I’m betting you’ll fly off in the first three minutes.”

The tube jerked forwards before Bucky could say anything else. You started picking up speed quickly and soon enough, Bucky was holding the handles with a death grip. You ended up being right and about two minutes in, you hit a wave that threw him off.

“Are you okay?” you asked in between laughs as he struggled to get back on.

“Yeah,” he muttered, a hint of annoyance on his face. You threw a thumbs up to Tony, who nodded and started moving again. “It’s like he’s trying to throw us off.”

“Well half the fun is falling off.”

“You people have strange ways of entertaining yourselves on Sunday afternoons.”

“What would you suggest we rather do then?”

“I don’t know. Something that doesn’t involve giving myself whiplash for ‘fun.’”

“You’re such an old man.” You let go of a handle to smack his arm. Of course, at that exact moment, you hit a wave strong enough to throw both of you off. You shrieked as you flew off of the tube before smacking the water. Whether it was the lack of paying attention or a scheme by Nat and Steve, the boat kept going, leaving the two of you floating in the middle of the lake by yourselves.

“Where are they going?” You furrowed your eyebrows, though a grin was still evident on your face.

“Are you okay?” Bucky ignored your question as he swam over to you, worriedly grabbing your face and checking for injury.

“Buck, I’m fine,” you said, though you didn’t do anything to stop his injury check. He sighed and looked towards the direction the boat went. It seemed that they were already long gone.

“That shriek had me worried there for a second, doll.” His hands dropped from your cheeks and you found yourself missing his touch.

“No need to worry. I’m all good over here.”

“Good.”

A lull of conversation fell over the two of you as you treaded water. You slowly moved closer, noses almost touching when Bucky glanced down to your lips. You nodded. I want this too.

His lips brushed over yours: eyes closed and hands dipping under the water to grab your waist.

“There you are!” you heard Sam’s voice shout. You quickly separated, looking awkwardly down at the water as you tried to focus on anything but each other. “Thought we lost you. Didn’t interrupt anything, I hope.” He smirked at Bucky.

This time, it was Bucky flipping him off.

---

You tried to be quiet as possible as you tiptoed through the hallway, hoping that you wouldn’t step on any particularly squeaky floorboards in the dark. You started opening drawers once you made it to the kitchen in search of a flashlight. Did Tony even own basic technology like that?

“What are you doing, doll?” A soft voice broke you from your thoughts. A pair of blue eyes stared back at you.

“Did I wake you up?”

“No.” He shook his head.

“Oh, okay.”

“You look like a deer in headlights.” His lips turned into an almost smile. “Are you running away?”

“Just down to the dock. Need to clear my mind.” Nightmares.

He nodded. An unspoken understanding. Maybe that’s what made you such great friends.

“Mind if I join?”

“Sure.” You finally found a flashlight and grabbed it, sliding the drawer shut with your hip. You slid the glass door to the porch open, leaving Bucky to follow you out.

Warmth surrounded you as you made your way to the dock. The humidity was atrocious during the day but at night, it was somehow comforting. The buzzing of bugs in the surrounding woods brought you a level of peace that the hum of air conditioning inside couldn’t. You sat down at the edge of the dock, dipping your toes in the cool lakewater.

Bucky sat down next to you a moment later. Your silence contrasted with that of the busy summer night, but it was comfortable. Nothing needed to be said; the presence of each other was more than enough.

“You know,” he started, his gaze not leaving the shoreline across the way. “I’m here if you ever want to talk about it.”

You glanced over to him for a second, taking subtle notice of his features when his guard was down. The dark circles under his eyes mirrored yours, yet he looked relaxed.

“And what if I don’t?” The slight stain of your voice didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I’m not going anywhere.” His head turned to meet you eyes. The soft upturn of your lips and content sigh told him that was the right answer. Your hand inched closer to his, your pinkies brushing on the splintered wood of the dock.

“How do you always know what to say?” Your gaze followed his across the lake, catching sight of a few deer grazing on the grass at the edge of the woods.

“I guess being alive for 106 years has to give me some kind of wisdom, right?”

You snorted, breaking the quiet atmosphere the two of you had created for the first time that night.

“I dunno. You’re still kind of a dumbass.”

“And you're still kind of a smartass, so where does that get us?” A grin spread across his face and there was no sight you loved more.

“God, I love seeing you smile.” A blush coated his cheeks at your words and he prayed you couldn’t see it in the dark of the night.

Your hands inched closer for a second time that night. A metal hand reached across to grab yours, his other arm going around your waist to pull you closer. Your head rested beneath his chin as he rubbed circles into your side.

“Thank you,” you mumbled after a few minutes of quiet.

“For what?”

“Your face.”

His chest rumbled with laughter and he squeezed you just the slightest bit tighter. “Glad I could be of service, doll.”

“Seriously, though . . .Thank you for being around. I know we joke around a lot but it really means a lot that you’re willing to sit out here with me.”

“I mean, technically, it was more of me inviting myself than putting myself through the torture of sitting here with you.”

You pulled away from his chest, shifting yourself so you could look at him better. “For real, Buck.” You put your hands on his cheeks. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Just do it, Bucky. Now’s the time.

He let out a breath as he smiled, looking anywhere but in your eyes as he contemplated what to do next. The hand not holding your waist came to brush back a piece of hair that had fallen in your face.

“Can I kiss you?”

You looked shocked for a moment, leaving him to wonder if he’d been reading it wrong all along. “Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry! I thought that-”

You cut him off, pressing your lips against his. Your hands moved to wrap around his neck as his grabbed your hips. It was everything you needed and yet it still wasn’t enough.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this to happen,” you breathed once you pulled away. This grin on your face mirrored his as he pressed his forehead against yours, wanting to keep you as close as possible.

“Actually . . . I think I might.” He dipped back in for another kiss, this one a bit softer than the first, but just as passionate.

A sudden breeze swept through the night and you shivered. It would have been a relief from the heat if you weren’t already having chills due to the man in front of you.

“Let’s get you back inside, doll.”

You were reluctant to let go of him. The moment you’d been waiting for for so long finally happened and you felt yourself scared to be too far from him.

You shifted your weight back so he could get up, not realizing just how close to the edge of the dock you were. Bucky let go of your hips before you could warm him and you felt yourself falling backwards in slow motion. A small yelp left your lips and Bucky’s attempt to save you was futile as your hands slipped through his.

“Cold, cold, cold!” you chanted once you surfaced, barely hearing yourself over how loud Bucky was laughing.

“Are you okay?” he choked out in between his laughter, kneeling at the edge of the dock and holding his hand out towards you. You grabbed his hand with a glare.

“I have half a mind to yank you in here with me.” His eyes widened at your words.

“Don’t you dare!” You tugged his arm lightly, just enough to get his face closer to yours.

“I guess I can spare you. Just this one time.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling yourself up onto the dock. “But I think I deserve a hug for my troubles.”

“Can’t deny my girlfriend that, now can I?” He pulled you into a hug, cradling your head on his chest and pressing his lips to your hairline.

“I’m your girlfriend, huh? Damn, we’re moving fast! Do you have the wedding planned already?”

“Oh please. I think we all know we’ve basically been dating for a while now.”

“Perhaps.” The two of you stayed in that position for a moment longer before another breeze came. “Should we go in now that we’re both wet and cold?”

“That sounds like a fantastic idea, doll.” Keeping an arm around each other, you slowly made your way back to the cabin, already making plans for a proper date once the trip was over.

---

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writingsfromhome · 3 years

Text

Bad Timing II

A/N: I’m just about finished the whole series and I’m excited for you to read this! <3 Sorry for the late upload, I started a new semester and had zero time to write but I worked on this all weekend. I’m curious to know if your opinions on Harry change after this part, the next part’s going to be packed but this is an in-between. Thanks as always for reading <333

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

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

I lay awake in bed, staring at the blank ceiling before my phone’s constant buzzing forces me up. A couple voicemails, and a single text from Harry: GM, call me if you need anything.

I stare at it longer than I should, the audacity to think we were fine enough to text me so casually. But there was some small solace in knowing he took the extra step to let me know. Ugh; my head injury was more serious than the medic diagnosed. I throw my phone on the bed and head downstairs where I’m surprised to see him gone. It was only 8am and I needed a coffee, otherwise I would not make it through the day. When I see the pot of coffee half full, I stop in my tracks. Harry made coffee before he left. I touch the pot and it’s still warm, he couldn’t have left that long ago.

I open the dishwasher that I’d loaded last night only to find it empty. I stand straight, hand on my hips--had he unloaded the dishes too? How did I not wake up to the noise? How did he even know where everything went?!

Maybe he wasn’t such a dense detective after all, the thought makes me smile. I look around the room and notice he’d tidied up from last night, and folded everything away on the couch he slept on. I take my coffee to the couch and without thinking, hug the pillow to my face and inhale. The strong scent of his aftershave sends a sharp and painful jolt to my memories. What the hell was I doing?

I drop the pillow and settle on my kitchen table, responding to some emails while I make a game plan for the day, shaking off the claustrophobic feeling I got thinking about going back to work. I finish the last of the coffee and start moving, shower, dress appropriately, pack my laptop...I just had to keep busy so I wouldn’t have time to think about it.

***

“We’re here for you, whatever you need,” the regional manager lets me know during the meeting. I’d learned post-trauma policies the bank had. I was sorry to know them, I really just wanted to put the whole thing behind me. I tell her that. “Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. We do require you to go to at least one counseling session, your employees have got to go to a group meet with a licensed therapist so you can all discuss this and get over the awful event.”

“I see,” I chew my lower lip. I didn’t want to talk to anyone about the way I jumped at every little thing and stared down each and every stranger on the tube on my way in today. I felt crazy. Maybe I did need a shrink. “I’ll include that in the memo I guess. Thanks again for all the support and the resources-”

“That’s my job, our job.” She motions to the man sitting beside her who hadn’t actually said much the whole time. We talk for a little while longer, and by the time they leave I’m exhausted. But I make the trek to the hospital to visit Cole like I told him I would.

***

The weekend flies by: I take the train to visit my dad up north and let him take care of me like I was a kid again. It was nice to unwind, I thought, I should visit my dad more often.

But come Monday, I’m back in my pantsuit ready to get on with my life. I try not to think about Thursday too hard but it’s difficult when first thing that morning, a therapist shows up for a group session. Most of my employees look anxious to be here, but I watch their shoulders relax as they discuss what happened. Watching everyone bond brings a lightness to the heaviness that sat in my chest: it was good.

“Ms. Y/L/N? When can we schedule a one-on-one?” The therapist stops me at the end of the session.

“I think this session helped a lot,” I put on a big smile. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

She smiles politely, as if she expected this, “It’s a requirement for back-to-work. I have time right now if you’d like, I’m not seeing another employee until lunch.”

“Um,” I look to where everyone mingles, comforting each other and breaking off into groups. If I had to talk about it in order to work, and work is the only thing to help me get my mind off of it...I guess I had no choice. “Let’s do it now.”

But an hour later and I’ve mostly just talked her ear off about Harry showing up, how awful my luck was that he would be the lead detective on the case, how much damage he’d done to me. How he appeared on one of the worst days of my life again.

“It’s almost a sign,” I ramble. “Like...what are the odds?!”

“Do you still have feelings for him?” She asks, looking like she knew the answer.

“No,” I scoff. “I hate him. He broke my trust!” And my heart.

“Those are feelings,” she says wisely.

“Well sure, yeah, I have negative feelings towards him. Why wouldn’t I?”

She pauses, a very pregnant pause. “It’s been almost 4 years right? Usually, those feelings start to...dissolve into a more neutral ground when you...receive closure. You take time to grieve, to sit in the wound in your heart, but then you pick yourself up and try to heal. It seems like you’ve just told yourself you were healed and got on.”

“I am healed,” I insist.

“Just like you started this sessions by letting me know you were over the trauma that happened to you a few days ago?” She asks. I avoid her gaze. “When I asked about Thursday, you said you were ‘over it’ and you just wanted to focus on work but you’re not giving yourself closure. Likewise, with Harry. You haven’t found closure even after all these years.”

I stare at her, she’d sliced right into a vulnerable part of me--I’d led her there, I realise. It was something I knew all along, I just didn’t want to point at it alone.

“You’re right...I feel like I never got closure.” I confess. “How? I just want to know h-how he could’ve left me for another woman after all those years together--as lovers and as friends? He was there when mum...he was there through hell. And then he put me through hell.”

“I’d like to believe Harry showing up on a...hellish day is a sign like you say. But maybe a sign you need closure. Talk to him, ask him what you need to know in order to close that chapter of your life.”

I exhale, the idea of it making me feel claustrophobic. She wanted me to open myself up to him again and invite him to hurt my feelings? I try to ask her more but she looks at her watch. We’d gone over.

I thank her and walk out with a weight on my back that feels bigger than the one I went in with. I thought therapy was supposed to make me feel lighter.

***

I’m hiding behind my desk as the footsteps get closer and closer to the door. I clutch the knife in my hand and-

“Y/N!”

I jump up out of sleep, and open my eyes to my office. I stare at the table in front of me where the papers I used as a pillow are rumpled.

“Y/N? You have a call on-”

“Adam,” I look at my assistant. He’d been really quiet today and I was worried about him but there was so much to catch up on I hadn’t had the chance to talk to him. “Sorry I...haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I’m sorry Y/N...the detective’s on the line he insisted he talk-”

I roll my eyes and answer the phone, motioning for Adam I’d be okay. He hesitates at the door before closing it tightly behind him.

“Y/N?” Harry’s breathless voice answers irritably on the other line.

“Harry? Why are you calling me at work?” I ask, still sleepy from the nap. Is this about the case?”

“No it’s about your things at the station, it was processed--we couldn’t find anything useful so we’re returning this batch. And I think some of it belongs to your staff? Did you want to pick it up or should I drop it off to yo-”

“I’ll pick it up,” I wanted to make it clear that Harry in my space wasn’t going to be a normal thing. “I’ll head out in a bit, can I just collect it at reception?”

“They’ll buzz you through to me, I’ve gotta go-”

“Just leave it with reception...” I say to dead air. He’d already hung up. Damn.

***

“I’m here for some things, it was taken for evidence?” I say to the woman at reception.

“You’ll have to be more specific love,” she raises an eyebrow. “A lot happens here.”

“The bank rob-”

“Ah, Harry’s case. I’ll buzz you through-”

“No I thought maybe I could collect it here uh-” I look for a nameplate. “Serena, listen, I’m in a rush so is there any way for you to get it-”

The phone ringing cuts me off. She holds up her finger and I stand tapping my foot. She rolls her eyes at whoever was on the other line, motions that they were chatty and points to the glass doors. I sigh, I guess I was seeing Harry. I think about my therapist and cringe, I couldn’t.

When I walk in, I scan the room for Harry but I don’t spot him anywhere. I walk awkwardly until someone asks if they could help but they point to his desk and tell me I could wait there.

“I’m actually here to pick up some evidence, couldn’t you just give it to me?”

“He’s the lead officer, he’s got to sign off--”

“Fine,” I hated the bloody bureaucracy around here. I go to where he points and sit in Harry’s chair, ignoring the looks from people around me. I toy with the pen and doodle on an empty paper. Y/N was here I write and smile, it was juvenile.

“Y/N! Sorry! Nobody told me you were here.” Harry shows up a few minutes later. He opens the bottom drawer and takes out a nondescript cardboard box. If I knew if was down there I would’ve left a long time ago. “Just need you to sign this.”

“Okay,” I sign where he points and reach for the box. “I’ll grab that, thank you.”

“Can I walk you out?” He fiddles with his phone.

“Will you take no for an answer?”

“Nope,” he’s all teeth when he smiles. I sigh and walk in front of him. It’s weirdly silent but I notice he was typing on his phone when I look over.

“Well...g’night then.” I say at the door but he pushes it open and walks out with me.

He finally puts his phone away and asks. “Are you alright? Have you gone back to work?”

“Yeah,” I chew at my bottom lip, nervous. “We’re really sticking together, trying to get through it.”

“That’s good. That’s how it should be.” He waits a beat. “We’ve been trying to catch the robbers, they hit up another bank so it’s hell inside. That’s why I was so busy.”

“Another?” My heart plummets, and my palms feel slick.

“Yeah but we’re working as fast as we can. So...uh, did you need anything from me before you go?”

“I...” I think about the therapist’s words and chew my lower lip. I try to work up the courage. Fuck it, I realise. I had nothing to lose. “I do...actually.”

“Oh,” he looks surprised. “Good, what’s that?”

“I want to talk, about us. I...I need like, closure Harry. I think I deserve an explanation about...” I trail off as I notice him staring at me blankly. “What?”

His blank expression settles into confusion. “What’s more to explain Y/N. I’ve told you everything, I-I dunno. I thought one day we could get together like old friends, but it’s obvious you’re still upset with everything and I don’t know what more I can say? I said everything in that letter but if-”

“The letter?” I ask sharply, cutting off his chatter.

“Yeah, the one I wrote you after we...after you moved out?” When I don’t react he continues: “I dropped it off at your sister’s the week after you cleaned out your things? You didn’t...read it?” He looks hurt, if that was possible all these years later.

“I...did. Obviously I just...had some questions.” My heart races; what letter? He wrote me a letter?

“So what do you want to ask?” He looks at me curiously, concern etched in his brows. “I would like to talk actually-”

“Now’s not a good time,” I cut him off again. I had to know about this letter first. I can’t believe I walked into this blind. “I’ve actually had a long day, this is--we can do this another time, okay? Thanks for...walking me out.”

***

The first thing I do when I get home is call my sister. I can sniff her guilt a whole country away.

“Y/N, you were heartbroken! Y-you didn’t need to have it broken all over again reading his stupid letter! I was looking out for you!”

“That wasn’t your call!” I raise my voice. “I’ve been...I haven’t had closure all this time! I thought he didn’t even care enough to try to explain it to me and you knew he sent a letter this whole time?”

“Well when he showed up to the flat I wasn’t about to-”

“When did he come to the flat?” I wanted to strangle my sisters and her protective instincts.

“After you moved your things out. He wanted to see you and I knew you were a mess, I told him you never wanted to speak to him. I was looking out for you babe I-I didn’t even realise I was keeping you from closure I just...I didn’t want you hurting. Don’t be mad.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, she was right. It was Harry who hurt me, and I shouldn’t take it out on her. “I know. I know. I’m sorry for yelling I just-I wish I could read that letter.”

“I’m sorry,” she sniffs. “I should’ve given it to you once you moved out...I still have it though. I think I tucked it into my old yearbook. D’you want me to...”

“Mail it? Yes, as soon as possible please. I need to know what he wrote.”

“What if you just get hurt all over again?” she asks.

“I’ve been hurting, I don’t think his outdated explanation will hurt any more. Just please mail it the first chance you get okay?”

I was so close to it, I think. I had to get that letter. I needed closure. I deserved it. And just knowing I could get it, it’s almost like I was waking up in a dark tunnel I hadn’t realised I was in this whole time. I knew where I was, and I could see light on the horizon.

H POV:

The last time I had a full night’s sleep was on Y/N’s couch, this case was a lot bigger than we thought. It wasn’t just a robbery at one branch, these same people have hit up two other places in the last few days and they were good. The worst part was they weren’t afraid to use a gun.

“Chief,” one of the constables comes up to my desk, where I’d been staring at footage for the last hour. “There’s been um, there’s a problem-”

“Spit it out,” I say, eyes still on the screen.

“The evidence you released on Monday...blokes down in evidence can’t find the SIM from the scene...we think they accidentally left it with that batch.”

I look up from my screen and I can practically see the sweat breaking out on his brow as I stare. If that was important evidence, we’d misplaced it at the height of an investigation. My arse would be on the line too--it was my name on the authorization letter.

“Don’t panic until we’re sure it’s not with the evidence we gave out,” I get up and put my hand on his shoulder. “I’m looking into it right now, don’t let anybody know it’s happened.”

I grab my jacket from my chair and root in the pocket for my phone but Y/N’s number goes to voicemail. I curse. I look at the time, it was 6 already. I had a feeling she might kill me but I would have to drive to her place, I hoped she didn’t leave the evidence at work...after all I did tell her to return it to her employees...I have the brief thought of asking her in the morning but I remember my arse on the line and walk quicker.

“Woah, someone’s in a hurry,” Detective Cole comments as I rush past her. “Not even a hello.”

“Sorry,” I flash her a smile. “Urgent!”

“Need any help?”

I pause long enough to turn around and answer. “Normally I would say yes but I’ve got to do this.”

“Don’t let me keep ya,” she smiles, I notice Serena eyeing the both of us suspiciously as she packs up for the day. She was always trying to convince me to ask her on a date, but I was done with dating coworkers after I made the mistake of marrying one and breaking up quickly thereafter in the past. I’d changed careers quickly after that.

Y/N’s POV:

“Oh my god,” I stop in the middle of my bedroom as my sister reveals her big news over Facetime, an ultrasound held up to the camera. “Oh my god!”

“I know!” She squeals.

“I-I-you’re pregnant!” I was shocked, I didn’t even know my sister was trying for a third kid. “You better give me a bloody niece this time!”

My sister laughs, one hand on her belly. I should’ve known, I realise, she’d been cryptic the last few times we talked, dropping clue, but I’d been so wrapped up in other things I didn’t pick up on them. “It wasn’t even planned but Y/N, it feels right. The boys are stoked--they want a sister too.”

“I am so happy for you and Stu,” I let out a whoop. “I wish I could hug you! I’m going to book some time next month and come see you--this is big! Did you tell dad?”

“Not yet, don’t say anything--oh,” a cry bursts out from somewhere on her end. She rolls her eyes and tells me she would call me back. But I get a text to say there was an accident with a toy truck and a jug of OJ, she would call me back later in the evening when everything was settled.

I throw my phone down on my bed and sit on the edge in my robe, I’d just come out of the shower to my sister’s call. I was over the moon for her, but it was times like these I felt like an awful person. Because as I think about her happy news, I put my hand to my own belly and imagine what it would’ve been like to be the one calling family with good news. The familiar ache in my chest comes back, once upon a time I did have good news for a short period of time.

It was a few months before Harry and I split, I’d skipped a period and went immediately to the pharmacy. I’d decided to wait for a week before I would tell Harry because he was stressed from work. He was always stressed at that job, but I wanted it to be perfect. I’d spent the whole week stopping by nursery stores, browsing baby books, even buying a few onesies and the cutest booties I couldn’t put down. I picture the baby--mine and Harry’s, wearing them.

But the day I’d planned to tell him, I’d woken up and knew instantly something was wrong. I never told him, I fought with him that day instead...I couldn’t even remember over what. I held the awful burden on my own, packed the future I couldn’t have into a little box and shoved it under the bed. A few months later, Harry and I were over. That future was as fragile as the paper-thin wings of a butterfly, one that would never take flight.

I do what I did on my darkest days, I root underneath my bed and pull out the box.

I still had it; it was morbid, holding on to a future that was deader than dead. But I hold it in my lap, and run my hands over each piece of clothing. I imagine just for a moment what I could have had, they would’ve been 3 and I would’ve been a mum. My chest tightens, and I squeeze the items closer.

H’s POV:

By the time I get to Y/N’s, I’d stress-sang so many 90s hits that most of my nervous energy had streamed out the car window. I gather myself, clear my hoarse throat, and knock; ready to be beheaded. When there’s no answer, my nerves return. I knock louder, and try to peer through the frosty window.

“Harry?” Y/N opens the door in a flourish, looking fresh from a shower. I try to block the visuals that spring to mind, my mind blanking as I try to remember what I had to say. “Hello? Harry? Why are you here?”

“Uhm,” I shake my head. “Urgent business--the evidence I gave you on Monday, please tell me you still have it?”

Her eyebrows furrow, “You’re knocking on my door at nearly 7 for evidence you returned to me?”

“It’s urgent,” I look around out of habit. “Y/N, we may have accidentally given you something with the evidence we were meant to keep--please I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important. I’m not messing with you, this is my head on the chopping block--I need to know if you have it.”

“For fuck’s sake Harry,” she opens the door wider. “Just...come in.”

“You have it?” I step in eagerly and close the door behind me, basking in the warmth inside. It was a chilly spring evening.

“I haven’t touched it since I brought it home, I threw it somewhere in my room.”

“Didn’t it...have your employees’ personal items in it?” I ask cautiously.

“It’s not like they’re eager to have reminders of that day!” she snaps and I back down. She turns in a flourish of her robes and walks upstairs. She doesn’t say anything so I follow her up, drinking in every detail I can about her new life as we pass through.

She’s headed into her bedroom when her phone buzzes. I recognize her sister from the contact photo that takes up the screen. She glances at me, and back at the phone, making a decision.

“It’s beside the dresser, don’t make a sound or my sister will come here in record time to rip your head off.”

“I take it she doesn’t like me,” I try to joke.

“She’s not the only Y/L/N sister that doesn’t like you,” she puts a finger to her mouth and takes the call into the other room.

Maybe I should stop cracking jokes with Y/N, I think. It was clear she still hadn’t forgiven me. I was surprised she still held on as vehemently all these years later.

I head into her bedroom, a tidy and plain room. Compared to what I’d seen of her main floor, her bedroom looked like it belonged in a hotel. I spot the box almost immediately resting between a laundry hamper and her dresser. I pick it up but on the way back, the box on her bed catches my attention. The lid is half on, and I know I shouldn’t but something almost possesses my hand to nudge the lid aside. I stare and what’s inside the box sends me reeling; like I was seasick, but with both feet firmly on the ground. The feeling punches me directly into a past I’d abandoned. A future I abandoned too.

When Y/N finds me a few minutes later, I’m holding the shoes from the box in my hands. She stops beside me. I look to her and her face is frozen in fear, before it shuts down into anger--no, fury.

“What the fuck are you doing going through that?” she snatches the shoes out of my hand and picks the box up.

“Y/N,” I say gently. “What...what is all this?”

“Did you find your stupid box? Just--” her eyes search the room frantically and settles on the evidence box on the bed. She picks it up and shoves it into my chest. “Take it and go Harry, I don’t want t-to talk. To you. Please just--” her voice breaks.

“Okay I’ll go I just...” my heart feels heavier than lead and I want to say the perfect thing to her but nothing comes out. When she shoves me I scuttle out. I hear the sob that escapes her as soon as I exit into the hallway, I almost turn to go back in and offer comfort. But I couldn’t comfort her, not since the day I gave up on her. I walk to my car, not even relieved to have the evidence. I don’t know how long I sit in the car and think about the contents of that box: folded in neat piles were baby onesies, bibs, and a pair of tiny shoes. Remnants from a broken past, a broken promise.

I wasn’t an idiot, and I wasn’t heartless despite what Y/N thought. I know what my selfish actions did to her, I know how I’d fucked her up without meaning to. But it’s only now that the weight of it settles entirely on my shoulders. How many years has it been, and that small box of new onesies stayed under her bed. Her room might’ve looked sterile and fresh but its corners held heavier burdens than I thought were possible. A new feeling of shame blooms from within me, and it stays like a bad aftertaste.

***Y/N POV:

I was going to read that letter, find my closure, and burn everything from my past ceremonially in a bonfire, I think as I watch the trees in my backyard rustle with the morning wind. It had been a few days but I couldn’t even focus on him finding that box, the humiliation of watching him look up at me with confusion and pity...it was enough he’d broken my heart, but now he felt sorry for me too. I focus back on the greenery while my fingers toy with the letter that’d come in the mail, a few years late.

The envelope looked worse for wear but it was still as sealed as the day Harry had written it. I hesitate, trace my fingers over my name on the front. A memory comes rushing to me, Harry in my dorm writing silly things on my post-its and sticking it in places I wouldn’t find until he’d left. Like under my covers, or inside my closet door. They would be silly like

Y/N smells like farts

or cheesy like

have a terrific day

. I usually tossed them, other I’d tucked between classroom textbooks. I wonder what happened to them.

Finally, I work up the courage to slide my finger under the seal and break it open. Two pages fall out, his distinct writing halfway between cursive and chicken scratch covers both pages. I read:

Y/N

You’re probably wondering why you’re reading this--I don’t think I deserve your consideration for even a moment let alone for enough time it will take for you to read this. Yet I want so badly for you to read this, to just know I didn’t mean for this to happen to us. And I know you think I’m the one who did it to us, but I need to explain.

You always told me I was good with my words, that maybe I was an artist in another life--a poet you liked to say. But every time I try to find the right words to say to you, English may as well not be my first language. I should have tried harder, should have found the right words for months but I kept putting it off until it was too late.

You are and will always be my best friend first, Y/N, I know I’ve broken your trust but I care about you deeply. I just wasn’t happy. And that had to do with the road we were going down together, not you. I’m deeply sorry for the words I said that day, for how I’ve made you feel these last few months. I guess, ultimately, I was being selfish. And I don’t have an excuse for that. I fucked this up but I wasn’t happy and I was taking it out on you, and on us. I used the things we couldn’t have as an excuse, but I’m not happy where I am in my life. And that’s something I need to find; I need to figure out what I really want.

I can only hope we’ll circle back to each other one day, in the future, when we’re in better places. But I don’t think we were right like this, maybe it’s bad timing, or maybe there’s a blanket over us much too heavy for us to find comfort under. I’m sorry for leaving us like this and for breaking your trust but I need to do this.

Know you’re perfect as you are, right now, there’s absolutely nothing about you I would ever change. I, on the other hand, have a lot of changing to do.

I wish you nothing but the best, you deserve the whole bloody world Y/N, but I don’t think I can give that to you. I hope one day, you can find it in your heart to forgive me. For now, know I love you and I’m truly sorry.

Harry, xx

My finger brushes over the last line, I take myself back to the Y/N and Harry four years ago--and it’s not so hard to do. I lived there more often than I’d like to admit. But I picture us, I picture Harry sitting down to write this. How might I have taken this if I read it all those years ago? I picture myself dissolving into tears--maybe my sister was right in not showing me.

I also imagine I would have known why, and maybe I wouldn’t be where I was right now if I’d had that closure.

But even all these years later, the tears stream down my face as if it were just yesterday Harry handed the letter over to my protective sister. There was so much hurt and heaviness, looking at it from the perspective I had now...I see a glimmer of truth in Harry’s letter. We’d worked wonderfully as best friends, and our intimacy was comforting. But we were also two people being pulled in two directions while clinging onto what we thought would keep us happy. It didn’t mean I forgave him for what he did, how he did it. But I finally understood why.

All this time, I asked why--I wondered if there was something I could’ve done to have fixed it before he left. I see now, he’d wanted an out the whole time. Nothing would have fixed us except time apart. I still felt like shit, but this epiphany made me feel closer to the closure I needed. The light on the horizon grows a little brighter. We’d just had bad timing.

***

I feel bright and chipper Monday morning; a sunny morning and a weekend of closure could do that to a woman. I bring along with me a box of treats; it had been a week since the horrible robbery. We’d put some precautions in since, had the therapist stay a few more days, a few of the employees decided to transfer and as sad as I was to see them go I knew it was the right thing for them to do to feel better. As for myself, I forgot about it most of the time. But it would creep in every so often and freeze me up.

I spoke to the company’s therapist once more after Monday, she’d asked about Harry and I had told her about the letter. She was intrigued but quickly changed the topic to how I was feeling after the events of last Thursday.

“Y/N?” Adam walks into the staff room as I finish the note to accompany the treats. “What’s all this?”

“Treats to cheer everyone up! Not that sweet fried dough is going to erase everyone’s PTSD...” I try to make a joke but Adam’s face is tense like it’d been since that day. “Adam I’m teasing...have you um, have you talked to someone one-on-one?”

“Me? Why?” He jumps. “I’m fine, I’m alright it’s mostly out of my head anyway.”

“Hm,” I look him up and down. “I don’t believe you but I’ll let it drop...for now.”

He fidgets with his hands, “Anyway I came in here to let you know the detective on the case called first thing about returning some evidence-”

“I can’t pick that up.” I say finitely. “Do you have room today? Maybe take an extended lunch and pick that up?”

“From the station?” he stutters.

“Is that where he said it was?”

“Uh yeah, yes. He wanted you to pick it up.”

“Well DCI Styles won’t get what he wants for once, you’ll pick it up at lunch okay? Just keep me posted.”

I go back to my office with a coffee and get a crack on with my work. I check for any updates on the client from last Thursday but I continue to receive the automated email that their office was closed for the week. It was weird, but I just make a note to follow up later on.

After lunch, Adam appears shaken, with the evidence. I instruct him to leave it in the staff room and send out an email, making sure to remind them that they didn’t have to go through it if they didn’t want to. I would keep it there until it was cleared out, even if that took the month. I think about my scarf in there, the one used to tie my hands. I wanted to burn it, never see it again. I send Adam a quick email to remove it from the box and dispose of it.

H’s POV:

“This just doesn’t make any sense,” I comb my fingers through my hair, as if it might trick my brain into seeing the pattern here. “This same group’s hit four places total, and yet Y/N...the HSBC was the first. There’s got to be a connection there, it’s here but I just can’t see it.”

“Harry,” Detective Cole puts her hand on my shoulder briefly before moving it away. “Maybe you need a break, I don’t think I’ve seen you go home the last few days and your shirt’s a bit...ripe. Maybe take the rest of the day off?”

I sniff myself, she was right. She shrugs with a I had to say it look.

She was right too that I hadn’t gone home. I did almost nothing but focus on this case, not only because it was growing bigger by the day and I had pressure from upstairs. But it was a welcome distraction to the new guilt that seemed to jam every other area of my life.

It was almost like I was reliving a timeline, going back three or so years ago. It felt like Y/N and I were freshly broken up, and I was trying to pick myself back up from it. Except that’s not the way it went all those years ago--I’d moved on, quickly then. But now, time was catching up. Or maybe it was karma.

“Earth to Harry?” Cole waves her hand in front of my face. “You really should go home.”

“Yep,” I scratch my stubble. I should shave too. “I’ll just drop by evidence before I go.”

She looks like she was going to say something but she gets up from the chair beside my desk, and walks back to her own. I sigh, sifting through the files on my desk to take home with me. My notepad underneath shifts and I spot Y/N’s familiar writing: Y/N was here. I run my finger over it and smile, remembering how she had written that on the baseboard of every flat or dorm room we’d left. And just like that, the guilt and shame take the memory’s place. How the fuck was I supposed get past this and focus, I think.

I shove my files into a bag and head out. Evidence tells me there wasn’t a lot on the sim card but they were still trying. I ask for an email if anything comes to light, and go home where I fall asleep before my head hits the pillow.

i meant to take a short nap, but I wake at 4am and my mind’s buzzing with so many thoughts that I have nothing else to do but get up, eat a mashup of breakfast and last night’s dinner. With nothing more to do, and 6am creeping up, I decide to get in my car and drive while the roads were somewhat clear.

Driving helped me think sometimes, on my worst case after my promotion, I’d gotten on the road one night and driven all the way to Leicaster. After a night’s rest in a hotel and the drive back home, I’d cracked the case. But this time, with my thoughts racing, I end up driving to Y/N neighbourhood on autopilot. Maybe because she was on my mind, the guilt a constant companion since that day.

I park on the other side of her street, and watch her front door from the rearview. I don’t know why I was there, it felt ridiculous and creepy. Yet, I couldn’t leave. Maybe I could offer her a ride to work, I think. But I know she would decline because she didn’t even come in herself to collect her evidence. She’d sent her awkward assistant instead.

Her door suddenly opens, and a strange man walks out. She leans on the doorframe and laughs at something he says. He leaves a kiss on her cheek and walks away. She shouts something after him and he turns, saying something back that gets her laughing. My heart races, seeing her face in the distance wrinkle with laughter. I remember all the times I could get her to do that, effortlessly. The guilt returns tenfold.

He adjusts his coat, turning back around and she watches him fondly for a few seconds longer before closing her door. I’m suddenly irritated, immediately suspicious of this bloke. I watch, unblinking, until he turns the corner out of sight. Who was he? Her boyfriend?

I look at the time on the dashboard, 7:08am. I sit, indecisive for another half an hour. My thoughts churn: the robberies, the motives, Y/N, the worn out box with baby clothes, her male guest who’d spent the night, the look on her face when she’d woken up after her concussion and saw me: disbelief, anger, and sadness.

I get out of the stuffy car and walk across the street where I hesitate outside her door. I knew I was crossing a line, pushing a boundary she put up by not picking up the evidence herself. She’d made it clear what she wanted, but I never denied that I was a selfish bastard. I raise my hand, and knock.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #detective!harry #dci!harry #harry styles imagine #harry styles series #writingsfromhome #fic #au #harry styles x reader #oop this took a while to get out #but i'm so excited for pt3 #:)

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side-shawty · 3 years

Text

Burn XIII (Stark!Reader)

XIII: More

Fandom: Marvel (MCU)

Type: series

Prompt/Summary: Love is everything.

Pairing(s): Peter Parker x Stark!reader, Tony Stark x daughter!reader

Requested? YES

I’ve been inactive for soooooo long that I understand if no one cares about it anymore BUT after a lot of writers block and some mental fragility I am BACK! And i will f i n i s h this series. Much love to you all <3

-Duckie

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

•

The ceiling was white.

Just like it was when you always woke up, white and cold with buzzing fluorescents. These were different though, they were dim not at all blinding.

Your guard was up immediately when you heard the beeping of machines nearby. You looked around and saw yourself hooked up to several monitors. An increasingly rapid beeping made it clear that one of them was a heart monitor.

The walls around you were all white. The outline of a door was visible on the left wall and you quickly began to remove all the wires and tubes from yourself frantically.

You had to leave. They couldn’t keep you here any longer. The just ... couldn’t.

When you finally freed yourself from the machinery you swung your legs over the side of the bed and saw your body covered in bandages big and small and fading bruises covered the visible skin.

You reached up and tentatively felt the bandage around your neck. You were praying that you had done enough damage that they couldn’t put that horrible device in again.

You shifted your weight so that you could hop off the bed, vaguely registering how soft it seemed.

“I wouldn’t do that,” spoke a voice overhead.

You almost wept, “FRIDAY?” You asked sitting back on the bed.

“Welcome home Miss Y/N,” she spoke reassuringly.

Suddenly heavy with relief you settled your elbows onto your knees and held your face in your hands.

“Oh my god. It was real,” you whispered to yourself, believing your escape had only been a dream.

You were stunned into silence and could hardly breathe properly.

“Would you like me to call Mr. Stark?” FRIDAY prompted.

“Please,” you responded, unable to say much more as tears began to wet your cheeks and bandaged palms.

It felt like only a few seconds until the white door slid open and your father, mother, and sister all sprinted in and right towards you.

You chanced getting off the bed to stand only to realize that your legs were extremely weak. If it had not been for your father scooping you into his arms, you would have fallen face-first onto the ground.

Pepper and Morgan were quick to also wrap their arms around you and you could only sob in the arms of your family as they began to cry along with you.

After what felt like forever you finally released each other. Your mother forced you to lie back down and they all sat with you. Tony to the left, Pepper on the right, and Morgan in your lap, her back against your chest clutching her Otto the octopus.

You waved your mother off when she attempted to tell Morgan that sitting on you could hurt. You missed having your little sister in your arms like this, besides she was beginning to nod off.

You finished the glass of water your Dad had given you and he took it, putting it on the white bedside table.

“What happened? How long was I…” You trailed off.

All of their expressions seemed to darken at the questions.

“After the gala,” Tony began, “that android that took you just vanished into thin air. We all searched for you but there was nothing. Your tracker all but died and you were in there for…” he paused like the next words would inflict physical pain, “for three more than weeks. And you’ve been unconscious for nine days.”

You didn’t speak as you processed the information. All you could do was squeeze a sleeping Morgan and Otto closer to your chest. You realized you were squeezing too hard when the girl shifted uncomfortably and forced yourself to relax as she slept.

It was all coming back to you in pieces, the experiments, that room, and—

“Where’s Harley?” You asked abruptly and Pepper gave you your answer.

“He’s safe. He was only unconscious for about a day and a half when you got back. He’s been recovering from malnutrition and minor injuries but he’ll be alright.”

You let out a relieved sigh at that.

“What about everyone else?”

“See I told you she’d be like this,” Tony said a bit exasperated to Pepper.

“I know, this one might be on me.”

“Oh, it’s definitely on you.”

You rolled your eyes, but the action strained them a bit, “What are you talking about?”

“You always ask about everyone else when you’re the one who needs the attention right now,” Tony said, and reached for your hand to hold it in his own, “It’s okay to be a little selfish at times like this.”

You nodded, knowing he would take no other response.

“But to answer your question everyone else is completely fine, we even got some information from that base. Some of which we will seriously talk about later,” Tony told you sternly.

You nodded again before recollecting something else, “What about Peter? He got shot,” you paused, “because of me.”

“We all know that boy would take a million bullets if it meant saving you,” Pepper said jokingly and you cracked the smallest of smiles.

“I’d do the same for him,” you said looking down at Otto and Morgan, playing with a loose multicolored thread.

“We know and we also know he’s anxious to see you. Everyone is actually but we told him he could be next,” Tony said.

“He’s here?” You asked.

“He hasn’t left.”

“Wait where is here?”

“The compound, had your white room revamped into a temporary recovery space,” Tony said and began gathering Morgan into his arms.

You were about to speak again when he added, “And to answer your next question it’s about 1 AM”

You smiled, “Thanks, Dad.”

“Of course.”

“We have to get this one to bed and I know Peter is probably anxiously waiting outside right now,” Pepper said beginning to stand, she walked up to you and placed a loving kiss on your forehead. Tony followed suit.

“We love you Firefly,” She told you.

“So much,” your father added and you could feel the tears attempting to well again.

“I love you guys too, thank you so much for not giving up on me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Tony said and the three of them bid you goodnight before exiting.

Before the door could even close Peter was in the room but he hesitated at the door. Almost jumping as it shut behind him.

He looked like a kicked puppy with messy hair and in sweatpants and a t-shirt with a terrible science pun. You held your arms out to him.

“Peter,” you spoke.

That was all it took for him to be at you in an instant and as soon as you were in the warmth of his embrace the tears you were holding back came rolling down your cheeks at full force. It wasn’t long before Peter was crying with you.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N/N,” Peter sobbed into your shoulder.

You shushed him lovingly, “It’s okay Pete, I’m okay.”

He pulled away from your shoulder as he sat as close as possible to you, holding your hands gingerly and kissing them.

“I should have protected you.”

You shook your head as you started into his red-rimmed eyes.

“No, this is not your fault. This is no one’s fault, okay?” You said and he nodded, you couldn’t be sure if he believed you or not.

“Oh god, I was so scared I would lose you, all that time. We never stopped looking, we did everything —“

“I know Pete, and I love you all for it,” You took your hands out of his in favor of holding his face.

“I just hate seeing you like this,” he said and turned his head to place a quick kiss onto your palm.

“These little cuts and bruises? I would still kick your ass on the training mat,” you told him and his light laughter ignited your own.

“I missed you so much,” he said.

“I missed you too, every day. You were one of the reasons I fought, I could never just leave you.”

There was a moment of comfortable silence before Peter spoke up again.

“I love you,” he said, looking deep into your dark eyes.

The lump in your throat made it impossible for you to respond so you did the next best thing. You took the hands on his face and moved them so your arms wrapped around his neck. You brought him to you slowly.

One of his hands cupped your cheek while the other rested on the small of your back.

The feeling of his lips finally connecting with your own was ethereal. You never thought you’d feel this again. So you let yourself get lost in it.

Something that started out sweet and innocent quickly became dangerously erotic, with dancing tongues and soon to be bruised lips. As he pulled you impossibly close to his chest you tangled your fingers into his hair.

You were sitting on his lap before you knew it, he was holding onto you as if you’d disappear if he let go for even a second. When you tugged his hair slightly he all but moaned into your mouth.

Pulling back you were both breathing heavy and you rested your foreheads against each other, smiling.

“So I guess it’s safe to say you love me back,” he teased.

“Without a doubt in my mind,” you said pulling him back in for another soft kiss.

•

NEXT CHAPTER

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whitexwingedxdoves · 3 years

Text

Scream.

Part One: Bonding. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Not explored in this chapter), Platonic Peter Parker x Reader Pronouns: She/Her Warning: Im not sure there is one for this chapter haha. Summary: All you wanted out of your interview at Life Foundation was a job, you didn’t expect to become an experiment. A/N: I’m very excited about this, its gonna be a fair few chapters. I just love Symbiote’s hahaha. Just note everything that is in bold, is the Scream.

Master list of chapters

You sat, shaking your leg as you sat in the waiting room of a rather large building. Nervously watching the people pass by. It’s just an interview. You thought to yourself even though deep down you knew it was true. It wasn’t just an interview, it was the interview for your dream job. You had worked your whole life to get to this point, here at Life Foundation. You brushed down your skirt in some attempt to ease yourself. You peered up at the TV’s that hung from the walls in the waiting room, the news was on reporting on the reunion between Steve Rogers and James Barnes. You watched for a moment allowing the information about their friendship soak into your brain until the presence of a powerful man broke your concentration. “Incredible isn’t it.” He announced, his hands buried in the pockets of his pants. Carlton Drake, though his eyes seemed darker, like he hadn’t slept in a long time. His skin seemed clammy even from the distance you stood from him you noticed something was off with him. You pushed yourself up from the seat and pushed your handbag over your shoulder. “I’m not one for a reunion story” you laughed, nerves spilling out of your words. He responded with a laugh and hung his head. Peering at you under his brow bone he simply shook his head. “No, the way they perfectly preserved those men so they could exist today.” You scrunched your face out of pure embarrassment for even thinking a brilliant mind like Carlton Drake would be referring to the fuzzy friendship story. “I take it you’re Y/N” he added pulling one of his hands out of his pockets and offering a hand out for you too shake. You nodded and accepted the invitation, you were right... he was clammy.

During the interview you could feel he was acting a little out of the ordinary but you thought little of it, after all, all you knew of this man was whatever the news told you. You answered every question he threw at you with ease and confidence. He told you about multiple projects his team was working on and told you, you would make the perfect fit in one particular project but he didn’t go into any detail . You didn’t notice that under his desk he held a glass cylinder tube and in it was a yellow and orange substance that slowly crept out when he held open the lid. You didn’t notice the way it climbed its way into your handbag that was on the floor and you definitely didn’t notice his amused smirk as he watched his plan unfold before him. Before you knew it, your interview was over, he shook your hand and told you, he would be in touch very soon with the outcome. The entire journey home your stomach felt tight, you couldn’t think about anything else as you clutched your phone in your hands, staring at the screen hoping and praying it would ring. Later that night in your apartment, you laid in bed though you couldn’t sleep a wink. Your mind was racing, predicting because he didn’t ring you that day, you hadn’t got the job even though you tried to rationalise it, he’s a busy man after all. You didn’t notice the orange and yellow sludge make its way from your bag and across your room, climbing up your sheets and onto your bed and just like that it was on your skin, seeping through almost immediately and the parts that didn’t, reached your face and entered you through your nostrils. You had no time to react, the sensation paralysed you for a moment, like lighting had struck your body though it wasn’t painful, in fact it was the exact opposite. Once you gained control of your muscles again, you started to pant, the sense of relaxation ran through your body, like you felt whole for the first time in your life and your eyes fluttered shut.

The next day you were woke by the sound of your phone ringing, it didn’t take long for you to realise and scramble to grab the phone to answer it. When you did you heard the voice of a women on the other end, claiming you had indeed got the job and Carlton would like to meet with you to congratulate you and get working right away. You couldn’t believe your luck, you jotted down the exact location you needed to go and the smile wouldn’t leave your features as you hung up the phone. You looked around your room in disbelief and let out a small excited squeal. You couldn’t ignore the thirst that dried your throat and with that information you pulled yourself out of the bed, ignoring the sheets that seemed to be soaked with sweat and made your way to the kitchen. You filled up a clean glass with water and gulped down the glass but it didn’t quench your thirst so you repeated your actions a few times until the thirst died down a little. You didn’t waste any time getting changed, getting ready to meet with Carlton.

You gave your cab driver the address and sat back into your seat for the journey and watched as the city of San Francisco turn into a blur. You thought about what happened to you last night, the way your body tensed, it was strange, nothing like that had ever happened before. You shook the thought out of your head dismissing it as a vivid dream, you didn’t want to ruin today with pointless thoughts. As you came to a stop in the cab, you passed the driver the money and left the cab. You looked around, your skin started to clam up as you noticed you were in a air field, now confused you looked hoping to see someone or something. While you ventured deeper into the air field, towards a large metal shed, you began to wonder if the cab driver had got the address wrong some how, that’s when you sensed something come from behind you. You turned your head and nothing, you stopped for a second with the puzzled look etched on your face until Carlton Drake and two other men appeared from the large metal building. “Y/N!” he smiled, noticing your clammy skin only made his smile shine a little brighter. He came closer and gave you a small hug. You had no idea how to react as he pulled away from you, the confusion still glued onto your features. He laughed at your expression and looked around at the location he picked. “I know, a little weird for a meeting but it holds purpose. I promise.” He announced, gesturing for you to follow him around the corner.

Instantly you was greeted by a large jet and a few more workers standing around, talking to one and other. It didn’t ease your confusion as you followed Carlton toward the jet. You listened as he explained your role in the company would not be required here in San Francisco but instead you’d be flown to New York for the offices there, how your belongings would be flown out to you. You was speechless as you got lost in his words, he explained how he had accommodation ready for you which he thought you’d find very comfortable. You simply nodded as he stood to the side, making way for you to get onto the private jet. He ended his speech explaining once you arrive at the New York offices your role would be explained to you. Completely speechless, you turned to Carlton as you stood on the first step, he just laughed and said You’re welcome.

You sat back in the jet, attempting to relax despite being far too high in the air for your liking. You looked out the window and admired how small the world looked from up here. You saw the city of New York in the distance, knowing you’re close now you closed your eyes and took a deep breath but it was cut short when you felt some sort of turbulence on the plane and instantly you started to panic, your breathing became short as the jet never seemed to steady, instead it got worse as if something was hitting the plane over and over again. Hold tight. A voice appeared in your head, not one you recognised. It definitely wasn’t yours nor was it the voice of anyone you knew, it sounded slightly distorted and was only causing you to stress more, though you did exactly what the voice said. Grasping onto your chair you closed your eyes and braced for impact. Just when you thought you were reaching your end, you felt something take over your entire body. It was someone or something had taken control over your movements as you got up from the chair and kicked out the emergency door and jumped out. You couldn’t believe what was happening it was a complete out of body experience as you felt from the jet, out of pure fear you blacked out mid air.

You woke up shortly after, standing on the ground just outside of New York city. The voice came back again, She has awaken. The voice in your head mocked. What the hell is happening. We have arrived at our destination. The voice laughed before you felt yourself kneeling in front of a body of water showing your reflection, it wasn’t you not anymore, what looked back at you was a distorted face, it looked evil, your skin no longer smooth and soft instead it gave a shine almost as if it was slimy and... the colour was now the darkest black you had ever seen with yellow accents highlighting your figure. Your hair not the dull brown colour it once was no instead it flowed long and full of life, different shades of orange and yellow clashing together. You where no longer human. We are Scream. As you stared at your reflection you could feel your eyes welling up and it wasn’t long until the water showed your true self, as you watched the foreign slime sunk back into your skin, you hair morphing back to its usual self. “Oh my god” you heard a voice from behind you, you quickly spun around on your knees and your eyes met with a boy. He wore a red suit but his face looked similar to the reflection you had just witnessed but you could tell this boy wasn’t the host of something alien... no you had seen him on the news, they called him Spider-man. You didn’t get to respond before you completely blacked out.

Peter carried you in his arms as he reached the new Avengers compound. He knew he couldn’t take you to a hospital, you didn’t need a medical doctor, you needed a scientist... you needed Banner. Panicked as he jogged through the halls, holding onto you tightly but effortlessly, he finally reached a medical room and placed you on one of the beds.

“Friday, tell Bruce I need him asap!”

“Yes Peter”

The boy watched you for moment, confused what had just taken place. Just like that, Banner came into the room almost out of breathe as he looked at the young boy.

“What is it Pet...” That’s when he saw you, almost lifeless on the bed. He immediately came to your bed side and checked for a pulse. “W- what happened, who is this?” he questioned the teen, Peter seemed a little out of it too but everyone’s focus shifted as Tony Stark entered the room.

“What’s the problem here?” he asked Banner. He got no response, all he had to do was look at Peter to get him to cave.

“I saw a plane crashing, I just went to help and when I got there, she was there... but she wasn’t her, she was something else.” his words where fast and panicked but Tony held his hand up and just like that he was quiet again.

“What do you mean, she was something else?” He watched as Banner kept checking your pulse and timing it, checking for any cuts or scratches. Both men watched as a small graze on your forehead vanished, leaving your skin untouched. The both watched in disbelief. “Come on kid, what do you mean?” Tony asked snapping his fingers at the boy but keeping his eyes on you.

“I – I don’t know, she looked... I can’t describe it. Her skin was shiny, her hair was completely different, like she had shapeshifted into something. She had two voices. I-I” he couldn’t continue and Tony knew that, he turned to him and nodded, his hand now on the boys shoulder.

“Okay kid, go home. We’ll let you know what we find out.” He demanded and just like that, Peter left the room, his head slung low.

“Run some tests.” Was all Tony said as he left the room, confused by the scenario.

#peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #avengers x reader #platonic peter parker #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #avengers fanfiction #avengers #tony stark #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader

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blonde-in-charge · 3 years

Text

Wildcard, Chapter Six

Summary: Steve Rogers found you on the side of the road after a mission involving Hydra and convinced the Avengers to take you in. You have no name, no memories, and no idea of what you are capable of. All you know is that you are a super soldier with more hidden abilities than you care to admit. The first step to finding answers was to train you. Nobody, including you, knows what is up your sleeve.

Characters: Bucky x reader, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Random Hydra Soldiers

Warnings: blood/violence, murder, suffocation, scars

Words: 1.9k

A/N: Hey guys! This fic is a little shorter but I hope you enjoy it and please let me know how you like it!

Link to the taglist

You slept peacefully for the first time in over a year. You opened one eye to peek at your surroundings. The small cabin bed room was filled with the beautiful morning light, shining through the white curtains. The sun did justice to the man sleeping opposite you, the sheets pushed down to his waistline, following the deep V of muscle. The strong metal bicep was tucked under his head, his face was completely relaxed. His other arm was draped over your naked shoulders, holding you close to his side. You closed your eye and let your hand trail from Bucky’s collarbone down his torso, memorizing the ridges of muscle. You felt him shift slightly as he woke, you turned your head to face him, resting your chin on his chest. His eyes opened slowly, blinking at the brightness of the room before they settled on you, looking up at him sweetly.

“Mornin’ Buck,” You said quietly, your lips tugging up into a smile.

He smiled back at you sleepily, running his hand through your hair, “Good morning, doll.”

“So what is our plan today? I know we are going to train but do we have a video conference with the team?” You asked, propping your head up on your hand.

Bucky groaned and threw his arm over his eyes, “Why are you already trying to start the day, we are still in bed.”

“Then come on, Barnes,” You said sitting up, the sheet falling from your bare chest, “Let's get out of bed then.”

Bucky grinned mischievously, “Absolutely not,” He wrapped an arm around your waist, throwing you back down onto the bed under him, making you squeal.

You stood in the center of a clearing with Bucky, studying the trees surrounding the both of you. You had walked from the cabin to find somewhere you could train and not cause a forest fire. You adjusted the sleeves on your training suit, as they rubbed uncomfortably against the scars encircling your wrists. You watched Bucky set up various targets around you, today we were going to try propelling sharp icicles, or at least creating them and then throwing them like a knife. You felt something else stir within you as the wind blew harshly through the trees. You have had this feeling before, the tingling sensation underneath your skin, begging to be released. You let the ice seep from your pores, encapsulating your hands, hoping to scratch the itch of power from inside of you. The wind blew harshly, causing your anxiety to spike. You whipped around as you heard a noise come from the tree line behind you.

“Hey Buck? Something doesn't feel right…” You started, you turned back around to face your friend, finding him on the ground with blood coming from his hairline. A dark haired man stood over him, with a gun pointing down at Bucky. You recognized the man from your nightmare the night before and your heart dropped.

“Hello, pet.” The man spat out, grinning at you nastily with yellowed teeth.

You took a step forward, but the man's index finger flew to the trigger quickly and you froze. “Why are you here?” You asked him, raising your hands up to show you were unarmed.

The man's grin faded, and turned into slight annoyance, “Here to collect my property, but there were some obstacles.” He gestured the gun at Bucky, who stared up at him in disdain, “Nobody has to get hurt if you just come with me, pet.”

You assessed the situation and looked down from the man, to Bucky. His eyes were angry until they met yours, they were filled with concern. He held up the number three with his fingers by his side where you could see. You started formulating a plan as he put down a finger, two. You could feel the buzzing underneath your skin as the wind blew your hair back, then it clicked. Bucky’s last finger went down and he shot his hand upward, grabbing the man. The man turned towards Bucky, pushing him away and aiming his gun at your lover. You flicked your arm upwards, creating an ice barrier between the man and Bucky. You started walking towards the man, feeling the fire escape from your eyes. He watched you with a grin, almost as if he was sickly proud of himself.

Bucky circled the wall of ice, forcing the man's attention elsewhere. The man shot at Bucky's metal arm, which ricocheted off to somewhere in the tree line. You heard rustling behind you and turned to greet eight more assailants, who were probably with this guy. The man bared the mark of hydra on their suits as they advanced towards you. They circled around you, their rifles pointed straight at you. Your hands shot up into the air, pushing the fire from your body. Most men jumped back, but at least two of them were caught in the flames. You could hear Bucky behind you trying to defend himself, no doubt from more men who came to the fight. You created circles of fire around each individual man, trying to contain them away from you. Forcing your way through the plethora of men, you made your way to your friend, your lover. Bucky was fending off the four men who were throwing themselves at him. One man had Bucky’s neck locked in his elbow, Bucky maneuvered himself, using his metal arm he punched the man in the ribs until he was released from their hold. Behind you, your fire was extinguishing, freeing the men you trapped from the circles of flames. You halted your approach to Bucky when you felt the cool metal of a gun against the back of your neck.

“I’d stop right there, pet.” The man behind you said, his voice dripping with venom. You held your hand up in the air, watching Bucky surrender to the men around him. The men grabbed Bucky and half dragged him to stand in front of you. “This could end now, pet. You can come with us now, willingly, and Soldat will live,” Bucky flinched at the name, “or you can refuse, and we will kill him here in front of you.” A hydra soldier stepped up behind Bucky and cocked his own gun, pushing it into the back of Bucky’s skull.

Bucky swore under his breath, “Y/N, you're not going with them.” You kept your eyes trained on the grass in front of you, feeling the flames prick the back of your eyes like tears. You finally met Bucky’s eyes, your complete eye had turned white. Bucky looked back at you in pure confusion, in almost a blink of an eye you had reached back and disarmed the man behind you, striking him across the face with the butt of the gun. You spun around and stood, shooting the man holding Bucky hostage right in between the eyes. The two men who were holding Bucky down had long since ran away from the scene. Around you, a dome of swirling wind started forming, sheltering you from the rest of the soldiers who were attempting to rush you. You turn to see the man you had disarmed, starting to get on his knees. You grabbed the hair at the back of his head and forced him to look up at you.

“You made me this monster.” You watched his eyes fill with horror as he struggled to breathe. You were sucking the air out of his lungs, suffocating him, the way he had suffocated you between the doses he would inject into you. You felt the sickening satisfaction swell within you as he started turning purple.

“Y/N, STOP!” You froze, reality setting in as you stepped back from the man, watching him fall to the ground and fight for air. You turned back the color rushing back to your whitened eyes as you met him. You looked up at the swirling dome of wind around you as it disappeared. The field you were in was now empty, only filled with the quinjet. You looked up to see Natasha escorting a hydra soldier into the jet in cuffs. In front of the jet, stood Steve. Steve watched you with worry in his eyes, he had just watched you almost murder a man. You hadn't realized the ringing in your ears was drowning out every noise ever. You watched as agents from SHEILD came to arrest and transport the man who had made you into this monster.

You remained silent the entire trip back to the Avengers tower. You sat at the back of the jet, away from the people who cared about you most. The ringing in your ears had not ceased, only grew more annoying. You ignored the worrying glances from the avengers as you surveyed your hands. You were so capable of many things, but what were they? You pulled your sleeves back from the jagged scars around your wrists, shivering as the memories came flooding back to you.

The metal underneath your skin never ceased to draw the goosebumps to the surface. Your face was stained and swollen from the tears you had shed from the previous dose you were given. Today was a new room, same experiment table. The room you were in was comparable to one where you would get a CAT scan or MRI done. The only difference was, this room could be depleted of oxygen in under a minute, suffocating whoever was inside. Today the men had come in, and injected the same serum you had been given the last year, then wheeled you into this room. The ceiling was more interesting in this room as you studied the various vents and tubing. A loud buzzing noise brought you out of your thoughts and you turned your attention to the red light flick on in the center of the room, indicating the new cycle was starting. Your body tensed as your lungs heaved for stolen air. You could feel your face changing color and you prayed that you would lose consciousness. Your body was locked from lack of oxygen and you barely registered the biting pain from the cuffs in your wrists. You tried focusing on trying to get your wrist free instead of the immense pain of every vein in your neck popping from exertion. You heard the metal of the cuffs pop and you sat yourself up, easily ripping off the cuffs around your ankles. You held your throbbing arms to your chest as you located one glass wall. You threw your fists at it over and over again, watching it crack beneath your touch. You leaned up against the glass, considering giving in to the darkness at the edges of your vision. You gave it one more shot and threw your body against the glass, shattering it completely. The air rushed back into your lungs and you laid on the ground, savouring the oxygen. You groaned loudly and rolled onto your stomach before pushing yourself up, onto your shaky legs. Your legs were weak after months of no movement, you forced your way through the metal hallways, you leaned against the walls as you made your way around, searching for an exit. After a couple moments you found it, the gate that led out. You rushed towards the door and it opened with little force. The light of the sun blinded you for a couple moments, you squinted and stuck close to the exterior wall. In the air, you watched what almost looked like a plane land on the other side of the compound and panic swelled within you. You looked off into the trees surrounding the compound and you ran.

forever tags:

@lhiamelona-blog

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #marvel imagine

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eleanore-delphinium · 3 years

Text

Reciprocate II (2021 version)

DISCLAIMER: Repost with additional details and edits from same title piece found in DAMIRAE ENTRIES.

But this particular one didn’t really change much as compared to the 2021 version of part 1.

Finale: Reciprocate III: The After

Reciprocate II: Damian

In a sterile white room devoid of any color and of any indication of ownership or personalization, laid a single figure on top of a white medical bed, white sheets tucked over her sternum. The room felt bright because of the color, it was also rather lonely and rather very empty—except for the pale woman with long purple hair that laid on the bed. An empty chair on her right side and bedside tables with nothing on top, on either side of her bed. Her hands laid on her sides and her eyes closed. There was no indication of movement except for her quiet breathing.

The door opened to reveal Damian Wayne in a white button up shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black slacks and black dress shoes. Despite his neat outfit, his hair was a mess and his eyes were bloodshot with eyebags underneath. He looked as though he had not slept well at all—which was likely the case.

Afterall, he had not slept well since the day Raven got stabbed. There were good days and bad, now—today was a better day. He walked to the empty chair beside Raven’s right hand, his back facing the door. He sat on the chair and gazed longingly at the figure on the bed.

And he recalled what had transpired that night—the night that caused Raven’s current medical condition.

Raven had fallen and her eyes slowly fluttered close. He could tell that she was trying not to lose consciousness. Raven lifted a hand towards Damian and Garfield’s general direction making Damian wonder if she was trying to reach out to him or Garfield.

‘It had to be Garfield.’, He thought because it would not make sense if Raven was trying to reach out to him. Damian couldn’t help but feel very bitter inside. She would never choose him. She would unlikely want to hold him with her dying breath.

At this moment the creature was distracted by Tim who was on the other side, seeing this—Damian took the opportunity to run to Raven. He took note of the footsteps that followed behind him, Garfield was right behind him as they ran toward Raven.

Her raised hand was faltering and Damian felt as though his heart was about to jump out of his throat-- out of fear.

No. You cannot close your eyes. I will not allow it!

Damian ran faster towards Raven and as her hand fell to the ground, he finally reached her side. But her eyes had also closed, and Damian held his breath as he-- so very gently, held her in his arms.

“Raven! Raven!” He called to her frantically. “No. No. No. Don’t close your eyes, please come back, stay conscious!” His breathing was ragged, his heart beating loudly in his ears. Damian bit his lip and held his breath in a conscious manner, as he tried to calm himself, and think. He had to think.

“Raven! Oh god no.” Garfield stood hovering above Raven, and the next second he was reaching out to Raven. But Damian pulled her closer to him and gave Garfield the darkest and cruelest glare Garfield had ever seen. And Garfield froze, he took a deep breath and gulped down his fear.

“Gar…” Terra came running towards Garfield, and her eyes laid on Raven. “No, if-if she didn’t try to protect me—” Damian gave Terra the same glare Garfield received, making her unable to finish her thought. She froze in fear too.

“We have to stop her bleeding.” Damian absent-mindedly said, his voice cold, and as he scanned Raven’s wound, his eye twitched. Raven had a gaping hole on her chest, Damian did not want to think about it—but the situation was truly grim.

“How are you going to—” Garfield received another glare from Damian.

Damian was not asking or seeking their help to stop Raven’s bleeding, he had said what he had said to inform them only. He will deal with Raven’s injury, no one else is suitable.

Damian reached for something in his utility belt, and he pulled out three silver balls. His facial expression seemingly frozen in a cold and uncaring manner as he placed the one-inch sized ball strategically on her gaping wound. He placed one on top and two at the bottom, forming a triangle. It beeped and glowed a faint blue and from it came out a purple like foam.

Damian’s right eye twitched, his lips pressed together so much that his lips became pale and his brows drawn so closely together, that he looked like he would punch the next person who would touch him.

He had no choice. This was the only way to ‘plug’ Raven’s gaping hole. She was losing too much blood because of it.

Damian clenched his teeth even more, if that was even possible. He leaned Raven on his right arm as his hands clenched tightly. If he had not had gloves on, then anyone would be able to see how white his fist had become. His brows still tightly knit together, it looked painful to watch his brows like that.

And to Garfield and Terra, he looked like the scariest man on earth. They seemed to fear Damian more than the unbeatable monster that had stabbed Raven into this state.

Damian hated what he had to do. He hated that he had to plug Raven like this. He hated that he knew he had to put her down now. Now.

There was a moment of hesitance, but Damian bit his lip till it bled to keep his focus.

“We need to put Raven in a safe spot,” He said in a clipped manner as he picked Raven up in his arms in a princess carry, “Distract that thing and keep him far away from her.” He continued absent-mindedly as his eyes quickly analyzed the best spot to hide her away.

And at the same time, he recalled her injury. There were no organs that were damaged, that at least is a good thing. And he hoped and prayed-- at that same moment-- that Raven can survive this.

With Damian standing on his full length, Garfield snapped out from his frozen state and had begun to reach out for Raven once again.

“Don’t you dare touch her!” Damian snarled in such an unsightly manner that Garfield remembered the initial fear Damian gave him. Terra did not feel the fear again because she was looking at Garfield with worry and realization. Terra missed to see Damian’s expression and his words did not register in her mind because she knew at that moment while looking at Garfield—that Raven and Garfield will always have history.

Of course, she knew of Raven and Garfield’s relationship and didn’t mind it. Raven was simply his past. Garfield told her that he loves her, and that he would never go back to Raven—if that was something Terra worried about. And he must have kept his word. But the years Raven and him shared was something that could never be erased. And emotions built up throughout those years was something that couldn’t be replaced so easily. To realize such a thing now of all places—

Damian had accidentally hit Terra as he started moving, cutting Terra’s thoughts. For a second her eyes laid on the boy wonder—and to her, she did not see a hero protecting or saving someone. She saw a man holding someone in a way that showed he was too afraid to hold any tighter in fear of losing her. A man refusing to blink, too afraid that it would be his last sight of her and that she would turn into dust any moment now. He held her in such a cautious manner—that it hurt to see him so forlorn like that.

That was something she thought she would never see in Damian Wayne. His body—every cell seemed to radiate a want to not let go of the woman in his arms. A conflict of holding her so tightly so he can remember how it feels to hold her and yet—still, he was a man of responsibility. Despite his desire to just be with her—he knew where he stands—the monster was still there.

Terra quickly turned, refusing to see Garfield’s expression—it was something she did not want to see right now.

“I will cover for you, Damian.” She told him firmly not waiting for a response and simply initiated her suggestion.

Damian sighed loudly in the white room, his forehead resting on his hands that was propped up on the bed beside Raven’s right hand. When they finally got to neutralize the enemy, the first thing Damian did was run to where Raven was. He was so afraid that when he got there, she would be cold and blue.

But she held on.

She held on.

He sighed again, as he turned his head that was resting on his right hand towards Raven.

He begged his father to help him keep her alive, and the first few months—God those were awful. When they arrived to have her healed, nothing was working. Whatever that creature was and what he did, messed with her. He begged his father to do anything—anything. Somehow, they found a way to stabilize her and close the gaping hole in her chest—of course every step was a struggle.

Seeing her with so many tubes and monitors, some advanced tech and some actual alien tech, hurt Damian in a way that a bullet shot could not compare. And he felt so helpless. It was probably the helplessness that hit him even worse than a bullet wound.

Damian Wayne—son of Batman, son of Bruce Wayne, a robin—a boy wonder—an assassin at some point, still a man seen as the heir of the Demon’s Head—felt so powerless despite all the titles and honor and glory those titles held. He still felt powerless.

He held the woman he had loved for years in his arms, and had to leave her in her injured state to defend the world of the very same creature that injured her in the first place. He left her all alone in a corner—not even knowing if she would be alive when he returned. He knew that having someone guard her would be a waste of manpower. He had to think of the bigger picture—because it is his responsibility, he couldn’t put her over that. And a small part of him hates himself for it.

He had seen her struggle to survive day after day, and night after night since then. The rejection her body faced—and his selfishness, thinking—hoping that she would survive it.

And she did.

She survived everything. And most of the tubes and monitors were finally taken away. Of course, she still had an IV drip and a monitor checking her vitals, just in case. Still, it was fifteen less tubes and monitors—and doctors and scientists.

Damian reached out for Raven’s right hand with his left, his palm resting on the back of her hand. He had gotten so used to all the tubes and monitors, that the first week without them was so unfamiliar to him.

Every time he visited her, he expected the tubes and monitors to multiply and revert back to when they couldn’t seem to cure her. Up until just a few weeks ago, he expected that they would return because she would become unstable again. But it never happened. He was so thankful it never happened. He slipped his right hand under hers, his worries just seemed like paranoia.

“Raven, won’t you wake up already?” He muttered as he had gotten used to talking to himself whenever he visited her.

“I still planned to confess to you,” He chuckled emptily “Won’t you at least let me do that?” He brought her hand to his forehead. “Let me be selfish…”

~.~.~.~.~

The door to Raven’s personal room opened, revealing Damian in his robin uniform, his mask off. He walked to her in a slightly slump manner and he took her hands on his and sighed.

“I’m sorry Raven, it appears that I can’t visit you for the unforeseeable future. Something came up.” He looked at her sleeping face sadly.

“Don’t be angry, I try to visit you every day after all, even if it’s just for a couple of minutes, but I never missed a day since you got injured.” He paused a vacant look on his face. “If you ask me, I’m pretty sure they were lenient on my lack of participation in missions recently because I looked as if I had lost a lover.” He laughed in a broken manner.

“It’s funny-- how I am reacting as if I had lost a lover—when we never really got to be together. It would be nice if you wake up—at least let me confess to you clearly. And you can put a rest to my pining.” He didn’t know why, but he felt that he had to rearrange her hair before he left and so he did.

“I will come back, I promise you.” He said as he reluctantly let go of her hand. He refused to look back as he left the room, and took his mask from his utility belt and puts it on.

~.~.~.~.~

The door opened gently again as Damian Wayne in an all-black outfit walked in. He was in his signature black turtleneck. He had on a thin black framed eyeglass on his nose and held a book on his left hand. He had gotten used to opening the door slowly and gently, out of the fear that when he opened the door she wouldn’t be there anymore.

At first, he thought that it was an unreasonable fear, but clearly it was not. He was afraid that the time he wasn’t with her, she would have long been gone. And when he comes to visit, he would be greeted with an empty bed. And he would not be able to even say his farewells.

He closed the door even more gently—because when the door is closed this time was theirs—well his. Because she was still unconscious—still very unaware of his presence.

“Hey Raven, I brought the book I last read to you—I have enough time today to read to you just a few chapters.” He said as he walked to his position beside her. He took a seat on the chair and held her right hand with his right hand. “It would be nice if you woke up soon.” He smiled grimly, the words have started becoming something he said out of habit.

Damian gave her a little recap of what he had read to her before as he held her hand. After that, he continued where he left off, holding her hand when he wasn’t flipping through pages. He read in a slow manner; his mind more aware of the fact that her hand felt so very right against his, instead of the words he was saying aloud.

~.~.~.~.~

Raven was still lying unconscious in the white room, on her white bed. Everything was quiet inside.

“Damian it’s been almost eight months!” Came a voice from outside the room.

“So, what Grayson!” Yelled back the voice of Damian Wayne. He was in an argument right outside of Raven’s room with Dick Grayson, his adopted brother—also known as Nightwing.

“Are you serious Dami?” A pause. “At least let others see her!”

“By others you mean Garfield, right?” A loud bang was heard from inside the room.

“Well—shit, yes! Why won’t you let Gar see her? He has been asking about her or where she is.”

“Don’t you dare bring Garfield to see her—don’t you dare!” A furious reply from Damian as shuffling footsteps were heard.

“Look man, I get it. I really do. But Damian, you can’t just hide her away from her teammates.” Dick said in a tone of anxiousness.

“You see her too.” Was Damian’s quiet response.

“You know that’s not what I mean.” A louder bang entered Raven’s room ending Dick’s words.

“She planned to leave anyway.” Damian said defensively. There was silence for a few seconds and a frustrated humph could be heard from outside the room.

“I—I didn’t think anyone would be able to deal with seeing her in that way—I” Damian paused. “I don’t think they’d want to see her in a coma—I thought it was for the best. I—I’m sorry Grayson, I will let them see her—but—just not Garfield, Grayson. That is all I am asking from you, just not him. He caused her enough pain.” And the door to Raven’s room opened. She still laid there asleep. Damian did not wait for Dick’s reply and he slowly closed the door behind him.

He was in a black button up polo shirt tucked into his black slacks, that was held into place by a black belt with a silver metal piece and he wore his black leather shoes. He looked tired but there was no hint of anger from what had transpired outside Raven’s bedroom.

“You must have heard our little argument, huh?” He said approaching the familiar chair he always sat on when visiting her. “I’m sorry to have disturbed your sleep.” He continued as he sat down on the chair and took her hand in his again. “Of course, I didn’t disturb your sleep, after all you're still unconscious.” A hollow chuckle soon followed.

Damian placed the back of Raven’s hand against his forehead. “You can wake up now. Scold me for being so selfish. For not allowing Garfield to visit you. In fact, for not letting anyone else visit you aside from a select few. But—mostly Garfield. I will not allow him in here too— in this space-- so why don’t you wake up and just tell me how selfish I am.” He tilted his head to look at Raven while her hand was still pressed on the temple of his head.

But as usual there was no response, he was so used to talking to himself by now. At this point, Damian was very convinced that Raven had tried to reach out for Garfield, one last time, before she fainted. And the thought was something that caused him bitterness.

Even in her near-death, Garfield was the last in her mind.

~.~.~.~.~

Damian was sitting on the same chair holding Raven’s hand. Three months have passed since Damian and Dick’s heated argument outside of Raven’s bedroom. He wore a red hoodie with black pants and black shoes. This time around, for the first time, he looked less tired since this whole ordeal happened.

“It looks like you had a lot of visitors this month too.” He glanced at the flowers on both bedside tables, pictures in frames of Raven with the team and other things. Now the room seemed to have a little bit of a personality.

“I think it’s great that you have some visitors. Though I admit, I think that eventually they will come to visit less and less, so I think you should wake up soon. Everyone misses you a lot. I think the longer you stay asleep people would forget about you. Everyone you know is a hero Raven, and even though you stay asleep—we still have to defend the people. Everyone’s priorities will shift and they would have less time to see you. And because they have started settling with your absence, for sure the visits will lessen. But I promise, I will visit you every day until you wake up.” Damian placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand and he froze.

His lips hovering over her hand. He wiped the spot he kissed her at, with his thumb.

“I’m sorry, I should be asking permission. I didn’t—” He stared at the back of her hand. “I’m sorry I don’t know since when I started doing that, but I’m sorry. I overstepped.” He gently placed her hand back on the bed and stood up. “Let’s see what’s in the drawers, shall we?” He muttered to himself and surveyed every nook and cranny and objects in her room, keeping a mental inventory.

“We will be starting a new book soon. I no longer keep track of the books we’ve read.” He said after finishing his inspection of the room and went to sit back on the chair and crossed his arms across his chest.

“Well—I mean I keep track of the titles but no longer itemize them…” He added quietly, he used to count them but stopped at around the fifth book because it seemed like the list would continue to grow. And seeing the number rise would just be another reminder of the fact that the days waiting for Raven to wake was stretching to impossibility.

~.~.~.~.~

It was a little over a year since Raven has been in her comatose state. The room felt heavy and she stirred because of it. Her breathing a little louder—a little labored. Her eyes fluttered open—her vision a blur. She saw two figures at the foot of her bed. The taller one looking at the shorter man. The shorter one was looking at her startled—he seemed to have an odd skin color. She could almost swear it was green. Raven’s eyes started to roll back to unconsciousness.

“Dick, she’s awake!” It was a familiar voice; Raven couldn’t help but think.

“What?” Dick turned to look at Raven, her eyelids slowly closing, her labored breathing slowly quieting down.

“I saw her eyes open; I swear it!” She recognized the voice as Garfield, but knowing who it was did not give her any extra motivation to fight her sleepiness.

“What the fuck is going on here!” Another familiar voice furiously entered Raven’s faltering consciousness. She wanted to wake up—to fight the tiredness she was feeling. But it was simply too late now.

The door had banged open when Damian entered. Damian was still wearing his black outer coat, his shoes dirty as he had just arrived from outside. He had no time to freshen up to visit Raven because he found out what Dick was up to.

When his eyes laid on Garfield who was looking at Raven, he wanted to rip Garfield’s head off. Damian Wayne looked like he was going to pop a vein on his neck. He glared at Dick with such open hostility that Dick was taken aback, and Garfield beside him recalled the fear Damian instilled in him that night Raven got injured.

“Her eyes opened; I saw it!” Garfield said frantically, hoping that would ease Damian’s anger. Damian stole a glance at Raven—but she was at the same state he had last seen her in.

Comatose.

“I asked you one thing, Grayson!” He growled as he slowly stomped his way to Dick whose hands were up in a ‘I surrender’ way. Damian grabbed Dick’s coat collar and pulled him close. “One thing Grayson!” He shoved Dick and pointed at Garfield.

“Look—you can’t continue denying someone who wants to visit a friend.” Dick tried to calm his brother down as he straightened his coat.

“Friend?” Damian snorted in response.

“Look, Damian I begged Dick to bring me to her.” Garfield said and he received Damian’s angry glare.

“Get. Out.” Damian simply said, he looked as though he would kill either of them any second now. For some weird reason Garfield got a little more courage at that moment, he began to open his mouth. Dick seeing Garfield’s lips open—quickly intercepted by pulling Garfield by the arm and pulling him towards the door.

“I’m sorry little D, we will talk about it outside.” Dick said as he draggedGarfield out, giving Garfield a stern look to ensure Garfield’s silence. Garfield wasn’t happy but he understood that Dick was looking out for him.

Damian stood where he was, glaring at Raven as he waited for the door to close behind Dick and Garfield. He was stiff in his spot and his fists clenched so tightly. He was still very much angry. He stood like that for five more minutes before he tried to calm himself down. His fist unclenched and his brows unfurrow.

“So—well, stop pretending then—he's gone now—so wake up.” He demanded in a low voice as he hovered beside Raven near the chair. She did not move. And Damian laughed brokenly as he fell on his knees. He reached out for her right hand absentmindedly and rested his nose on the back of her palm.

“So, it turns out you just needed him to visit you to wake up?” Damian whispered as tears fell on her hand. “So why aren’t you awake already?” He sobbed.

It was never him—she never chose him.

~.~.~.~.~

It had been four months since Garfield had been regularly visiting Raven, and at times he would also bring Terra with him. Damian had conceded Garfield's wish to allow him visitation rights to see Raven. Damian could not stay angry at Dick for over two weeks, and the pair reconciled, despite Dick undermining Damian’s wishes. Damian understood that Dick was looking out for him.

Damian’s family was very much worried over him since Raven’s fall. He acted more detached and unapproachable. He wasn’t sleeping well and every second he could spare he was always hovering over Raven. In fact, he slept well hunched by Raven’s bedside with Raven’s hand against his hands and forehead. Damian was even unwilling to celebrate his twenty-second birthday with Raven still unconscious. And they could see the toll it was taking on Damian.

His family knew he needed a little push to try and let Raven’s state go and pushing Damian to allow Garfield entry was the way to do it. Damian needed to move on.

But here he was again, in the white room he specifically prepared for her. Her accommodations are all arranged by him, and his visits are always a constant. But the past four months were difficult, as he was also actively avoiding having to meet Garfield when Garfield was visiting Raven.

When Damian was able to take a step back from his anger at what Dick did—he knew that his family did it to distract Damian—to keep him away from lurking around Raven. He understood it was made of good intentions. Damian reached out for Raven’s hand, a habit he has come to develop long ago.

He wore a plain white shirt with jeans. His hair was not as neat as it usually was, and there were eyebags under his eyes yet again.

“But I guess I am a man who will only love one person in their lifetime.” He muttered, placing Raven’s hand against his right cheek. “I’ve come to wonder sometimes if I am unfortunate to be such a man—or to fall for you—” he studied her face; he has memorized every detail about her. How could he not when he was here, beside her so frequently.

“I’ve come to learn that loving you is not something to be regretful about. In fact, I am rather thankful for it. But you really got me pining over you, Raven.” He sighed, his eyes not capturing even the smallest of movement from Raven. “I love you.” He whispered and brushed his lips against the skin on the back of her hand.

A week and a half after, Damian paced at the foot of Raven’s bed, very much frustrated. He paused and glared at Raven, running his hands through his head, a sign of his developing anger. He stomped towards his spot as he glared at Raven again.

His hair was a mess, his eyebags had gotten darker. His clothes that was a plain black shirt with jeans had creases, very uncharacteristic of him.

“I don’t get it!” He said, containing most of his anger. “You obviously woke up the first time Garfield visited you! Tsk, as it turns out, all you need was for him to visit you-- for you to wake up. So why did you go back to sleep!” His tone louder now and he sighed to try and dispel a little of his anger. His hand at his side clenched into balls.

Damian was seething in anger, and he exhaled and inhaled in air as if he was palpitating. Finally, the anger he had dissipated. But it was replaced by raw hopelessness, anyone who would see him in such a state, would feel their hearts knot.

“You really—really got me pining over you.” Damian said as he knelt on the floor with a hunched back as he took her right hand in between his palms. “It’s funny how you pined over someone else as I pined over you—it seems that you're making me pine over you just as long as you pined over him.”

The chair he usually sat on was across the room, toppled down. A droplet of water falls in front of Damian’s right knee.

~.~.~.~.~

Two months passed just like that. Raven’s friends had long since stopped visiting her as frequently as they did the first three months. Asking them to take so much time off of their busy hero life was too much to ask for. But Damian always made time for her, and at almost a year and a half the toll of doing so had fully manifested.

He looked so tired, his eye bags are in the darkest shade it had been since the accident. He looked thinner, not scarily thin, but it was obvious he had lost some weight. His clothes were as neat as it could be. His white button up shirt crisp and so is his black slacks. His black leather shoes are very shiny. He placed a lot of effort in his appearance because even he could tell that his health has waned, and he was compensating with his clothes.

When Raven was in ICU for the first three months, he was in such a bad state. When she finally got relatively cured but was in comatose, he looked better-- more relaxed. Then a little after, he had to continue with his responsibilities, particularly as a hero and somehow, he managed. The weight he had initially lost, he had regained and now he had shed perhaps even more than he did at that time.

But now at almost a year and a half of juggling hero life, personal and family life. Being with Raven almost every day since the night she got hurt. To actively avoid Garfield while Garfield was visiting and arranging his own visits to go around Garfield’s visitation, but also keeping to his schedule and preference of seeing Raven on a very regular basis. And Raven still not waking up—Damian was quite spent.

He was sitting on his chair facing Raven’s right hand. His head propped onto his hands which were propped up on his knees. He was looking at Raven’s face blankly, dark circles under his eyes. He didn’t know how much longer he could do this.

Raven’s state was always at the forefront of his mind. And when he was on a mission, he tried to put it as a lesser priority. But when he is near to death his first thought is: If I die who will look after Raven? And so, he fights with every screaming fiber he had, even when he was in such excruciating pain. After all, he still had to see her wake up.

One would think a year and a half wasn’t really a long time—but it did not feel like it has been just over a year for Damian—it felt like he has been waiting for her to wake up for five years.

He had just realized quite recently, just exactly how much stress he had gotten due to all this. And it was taking a major toll on him. He now completely understood why his family was worried about it—about him. Hindsight after all is 20/20 and he now clearly saw exactly how concerning his state was.

There was only one solution. His eyes flickered to Raven—he had not noticed that his gaze had drifted off of her and was surprised when his eyes laid on her again. He sighed and suddenly stood up, and picked up a lock of her hair.

“Raven, your hair has grown quite a bit—it's already at waist length. I thought of having it cut—but I think that should be your decision.” He placed it back down. “If you don’t wake up any time soon—I’m afraid I would have to let you go.” He mumbled to himself as he turned around to lean on the bed and gaze at the ceiling blankly.

Two weeks after, Damian was back in her room, looking even worse. This time he was just standing beside Raven with a very empty gaze. He had been standing there in his black slacks, black dress shoes and a green button up polo shirt for fifteen minutes already.

“I give up Rae.” He looked down on the ground. His words were so soft because he was very much afraid of the implications himself. He knew he had to let her go.

“I—I don’t think I can visit you like this.” He fought the tears as he said his words a little louder. And there was nothing left to say, he just softly touched her hand for a second and pulled away and then looked at her blankly.

A month after Damian’s decision to let Raven go, he realized getting to the conclusion and acknowledging what had to be done and executing his decisions were two completely different things. He was still visiting her in the same consistency that he always had. And he knew he had to fight to break the habit that he had already formed. Seeing her was second nature to him, and he simply had to break it.

~.~.~.~.~

Two months after, Damian was finally able to decrease his visits. And had even met Garfield a few times and actually didn’t mind it. His visit reduction was not really significant but the fact he was able to decrease it at all, was a win for him.

He was in jeans and a red shirt, looking very casual and he looked more unbothered and not so tired. His hands in his pockets as he just stood. For the first time, he looked genuinely relaxed. His gaze at her was soft and the eyebags he had been sporting in different shades, for almost two years, were significantly less dark this time.

“I know I don’t visit often anymore—and you probably can’t tell—aside from the obvious,” A small twinkle in his eyes at the little joke. The fact that he could make a joke like that, spoke volumes of how far he had come. “You really made me pine over you for the duration you pined over Garfield. Nine years—you really made this whole thing come into full circle. You pined for him for nine years and decided to move on completely—but this happens.” He gestured at her generally.

“Now I have pined for you for the same duration, and I have decided to move on too.” He said grimly and the hint of playfulness he had prior was gone. “It really came full circle.”

He just stood to her right with a small smile. He tried his best not to stay so long to visit her nowadays. Damian found that standing was the best option in order for him not to stay longer than he intended.

Damian puts his hand atop Raven’s, he has also avoided holding her hand properly or else he’d find himself sitting on his spot and just holding her hand. He would then talk to her and the intended short visit would become like his regular visits from before.

“I have decided. I am moving on—I am letting you go.” And he pulled his hand away a little too quickly, afraid of the temptation that was the familiarity of her hand against his—or maybe it was his hand against hers. After all, it was always him holding onto her.

His head had looked away to look at the flowers on her bedside tables. He has been talking to her about visiting her less, and letting her go for a few months now. At first it was just a passing thought. But the last two months, it seemed Damian had to tell her every time he visited. He was unaware of how frequent he was telling her that. But in retrospect, he could tell now that he had been dropping hints.

It started from hints, to telling her absentmindedly, to repeatedly telling her every time he visits—until finally he was able to visit less. And because Damian turned his head, he missed the small twitch of Raven’s hand when he pulled his hand away, to look at her bedside tables.

There was silence, as he looked down and closed his eyes. He squeezed his eyes for a moment then sighed as he looked at Raven, a faint smile on his lips. He took a step back, feeling as though he was leaving his heart on this spot. He then turned feeling lonely yet strong and regretful at the same time.

When he was gone, Raven’s eyebrow twitched.

The next day when Damian decided to check on Raven’s condition, he was frozen in fear to see the scientist and doctors hovering over Raven who was attached to so many monitors and tubes.

It was like he had stepped into the time she was brought in to close up her wound. He was unfrozen when she saw her spasming. He ran towards her, as her chest lifted and she was choking, black almost slime like blood came out from her mouth and spilled from her oxygen mask.

“Sir—we need you out of the way.” A doctor pulled Damian away. “Who let this one in!” The doctor added and a nurse took Damian away, trying to console him.

“This is odd—there seems to be no traces of the compound we found last time. But her body is rejecting something.” Damian heard the doctor say, at that moment Raven’s eyes opened and her line of sight fell on Damian’s instantly. Her hand lifted slowly to his direction; her eyes wet as her face slowly turned red from the lack of oxygen. A doctor had already punctured her lungs to assist her in breathing, but black blood was oozing out from it.

“Let me, the fuck go!” Damian yelled as he strongly shoved the nurse off of him. He was normally someone who didn’t do this, but seeing Raven’s face slowly contort to fear and resignation, he actually went against the nurse. He remembered when she was in ICU for the first few months he observed quietly from the distance, but he couldn’t now.

“Raven!” He called out as he knelt on the floor and held her right hand that she had stretched out. “I promise, I will not leave you. So, you have to fight this!”

She squeezed his hand in hers as best as she could as her eyes closed and a tear slipped from her eye.

“Sir—I’m sorry but you are being a distraction.” A bulky man approached Damian, giving him no choice but to let go of Raven’s hand and put his hands up as he slowly left the room.

“She’s—I heard the subject has powers—” A person in a lab gown said, perhaps a scientist.

“Patient.” A doctor cuts off the scientist.

Before Damian was shoved out of the room, he stole a glance of Raven, her hand was glowing a faint purple black hue. And it seemed that she could breathe.

“Sir—there seems to be something appearing—” And that was the last thing Damian heard before the door was shut close in front of him.

Two weeks later Raven was finally stable but still in a coma. They were fighting with her condition for those two weeks—cross referencing and analyzing data, finding and testing out new information. And everything has now calmed down. He was only allowed entry today after the stunt that he pulled.

Damian was sitting on his chair, holding her hand. He wore a white t-shirt with many creases. His hair is a slightly better case compared to his shirt. And the outfit was complete with a plain pair of jeans and casual shoes. And to top it all off, his eyebags had become darker again.

”You really scared me. God, I forgot how afraid I was of losing you recently—you really know how to make someone remember, huh?” He muttered as he put her hand against his forehead, he was shaking a bit, as he fought his tears. And he felt her hand twitch against his—and he choked as he looked at her face.

Her eyes were still close but for the first time, he actually felt her react. In two years, she finally moved. He smiled tightly and nodded his head. He brought her hand against his lips and softly kissed her hand.

“You reached out to me that night, didn’t you?” He put her hand against his cheek as he turned his head towards her again. “You have to wake up and clarify that to me.” And he heard her loudly inhale.

For the first time in months, he finally had hope that she would wake up. “I promise you; I will wait for you to wake up. This time, I will not break this promise.”

~.~.~.~.~

The door suddenly opened with a panic stricken Damian. He was unable to take off his outer coat and change into cleaner shoes because he heard a crash from generally where Raven’s room was located, on the second floor, when he had just entered the building.

“Raven!” He called out his fear practically at the base of his throat.

When he heard the loud crash, he feared for the worst. His eyes at first saw an empty bed, and his heart almost jumped out of his chest. The vase on her right bedside table with flowers had shattered on the floor. He quickly searched for Raven, and exhaled deeply when he spotted her at the foot of her bed. She was holding onto her bed with great difficulty. Her eyes observed Damian wearily.

He approached her, thinking that maybe this was a dream.

“Raven.” He whispered when he was two feet away, her violet eyes did not show any recognition at seeing Damian. He picked her up and carried her in his arms, and despite not recognizing him at first, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Damian.” She whispered and he squeezed him back. She rested her forehead on his shoulder, as he carried her back to her bed. He set her down gently as he pulled away, she grabbed his right hand.

“It feels so perfect.” She gently told him, and Damian was startled by her words. A smile slowly formed and he found himself chuckling.

“I’ve been here almost every day, holding your hand. Maybe your hand molded into mine—” He shook his head. "Or maybe the other way around.”

“I—my memory is kind of fuzzy,” Raven said as she laid back in bed. “But I know you, I remember you. I heard you so often. It became scary when you weren’t there.” Her eyes started to flutter, she seemed a little bit too tired. But she continued to hold his hand until she fully fell into slumber, to which her grip loosened.

Damian took the opportunity to call the doctors and scientist to inform them of her condition.

When she awoke again the doctors, scientists and Damian were talking.

~.~.~.~.~

A month after, Raven was already walking by herself inside her room. She started walking around the villa quite recently. But she has not been able to walk outside yet. She found that once the door to go outside the villa was opened, her knees would buckle. So, for the past month she was mostly roaming indoors.

She had found out that this was one of Bruce Wayne’s properties, and Damian had asked for the property. Damian was someone who would never ask anything of anyone if he could do it himself, so it was surprising to everyone that Damian had asked for this villa. And because of that Bruce granted Damian the property, if not for that, in the very least to give Damian some peace of mind. At least then Damian would know Raven had a place to stay and would not be kicked out if he so much as vanished.

She also found out that Damian did not spare any expense in her recuperation and that her situation was quite odd. The creature’s origin could not be quite narrowed down, thus its effects on her were up on the air. But that was where the doctors and scientists and all the tech was for, alien tech included. With the collective resources provided, they were able to make something to assist Raven’s condition.

“Raven, I think you should really try to get out.” Damian said as he walked in. He looked so happy seeing her, just standing by the window gazing out. She turned her head to smile at him.

He looked better—in fact the happiest and relaxed he had ever been in two years. His clothes were pressed well, it was a casual attire, and he had no hint of any kind of weariness. No more eyebags, and his eyes no longer looked so dead.

“If you go with me, I can try.” She responded, she had not seen him in two weeks due to his busy schedule, with the team and talking to her doctors and scientists. Him learning and relearning everything about her condition since she got attacked, and he also had family matters, he didn’t really have time to be with Raven recently and she understood.

She kept herself busy by building her physical strength through walking within the walls of Damian’s villa. She also used the time to comb through her thoughts.

“Okay.” He agreed as he offered her his right hand and she accepted it with both her hands. Until now he couldn’t believe that she was awake.

“I really thought I was dreaming when you woke up a month ago.” He confessed again as he sighed and led her to the door.

“I’m here. Everything is still a bit fuzzy. But I know you—I trust you. Your Damian.” Raven responded unhurriedly as she placed a hand on his arm.

Fifteen minutes later, Damian came in with Raven in his arms weeping.

“I—I can’t… it—it…” And she wept.

“I’m sorry, we will take it step by step. I will be here if you ever want to try and go outside.” He comforted her as he placed her on her bed. She nodded as he wiped away her tears.

“I thought I was going to die—” She sobbed. “There was something I wanted to do… I don’t—” Another sob, “I don’t recall what.”

He held her hands and then she suddenly froze on the spot. She looked at him in the eyes, and she blinked as the tears fell. “I didn’t want to leave you.”

And this time it was his time to freeze on the spot. Raven pulled her hands away from his, and she placed her fingertips on either side of his face.

“I was afraid that I didn’t have enough time with you. I wanted to know you more.” Her vision seemed to go back to that night. “I wanted to be with you.” She absent-mindedly brushed her lips against his. And when the pressure registered in her brain, she pulled away, an apology at the tip of her tongue.

Raven was surprised to feel an even heavier pressure against her lips. And she returned the kiss as well as deepened it. She noted how she was reacting very naturally over the situation, and how inexperienced Damian was. And she pulled away.

“Is this your first kiss?” She asked him. And he looked away with a small blush on his face.

“It’s—I’m very inexperienced with dating…” He admitted, and she observed him as she wiped her tears.

“I’m assuming, I have dated before.” She replied impartially.

“Yes, Garfield.” He responded blankly, and when the name came off Damian’s mouth, he saw her expression soften. His eye twitched as he looked away. He suddenly felt her hands against his, making him turn to look at her again.

“Gar… field…” She muttered, his hand clenching at the way she called his name. “Was he the only one I dated?” Damian nodded in response.

“I see…” She said with furrowed brows. “My head is aching a bit. I think I should rest…” Raven lets go of Damian’s hands.

“Can we try going outside again tomorrow?” Damian was pulled out from his reverie with the inquiry, surprise in his eyes.

“Of course, I would love that.” She smiled at his response.

“Can you—” She looked at him hesitatingly. “Can you hold my hand when we do?”

He was even more shocked to hear those words, and he smiled as he placed a hand on her cheek. “Of course, Raven.”

“I would like to date you, Damian.” Raven stared at Damian, who just pulled his hand away from her cheek and straightened his posture as he looked away.

“Your memory isn’t like what it was Raven, I think it’s too early to say that.” His response wasn’t something she enjoyed but Raven pressed her lips together and did not push him.

She didn’t recall her love for Garfield at the moment and assuming she would choose Damian when she does recall, would be too much of wishful thinking on Damian's part.

~.~.~.~.~

The sun was setting and the white room was filled with an orange hue from the setting sun outside. Raven and Damian had just arrived from walking outside. This time around she was able to stay outside longer without having flashbacks of the night she got stabbed. It was great progress. But she always held Damian as if he was the only remaining lifeboat in an open, turbulent ocean.

Damian and Raven were continuing a pleasant conversation they had outside in her bedroom, when suddenly the door opened.

“Raven!” Garfield came in with such a relieved look on his face, his eyes expectant as he searched for her. Damian and Raven’s happy conversation grew stale as they turned their head to the door.

“Raven!” He called out again when his eyes landed on her but Raven remained in place. “Of course, you wouldn’t tell me she is awake!” Garfield added with a glare to Damian, whose head was casted down.

“Tsk, Greyson.” He muttered, Greyson right behind Garfield but was hidden from Damian’s line of sight. Despite Damian’s head casted down, he took note of Raven’s reaction.

She was still, she stood in place, but Damian could tell, she was so close to running to Garfield and hugging him. And all Damian could do was squeeze his eyes shut, as he inhaled softly while clenching his fists.

Seeing Garfield, Raven felt like her soul from inside her was vibrating with excitement. And yet, at the same time it felt as though a thin layer of frost blanketed her entire body, and it was enough to render her frozen. Despite her deep desire to hug Garfield, her feet were so heavily planted on the floor, that she didn’t even move an inch. Her breathing was shallow and unhurriedly soft, and she just focused on that.

The days had passed so pleasantly after Raven woke up that Damian had thought that he had a place in her heart. But seeing her like this, he knew—Garfield still outweighs him.

“Get out.” Raven said, to which Damian snapped his head to Raven’s direction, who had simply turned her back and walked to the window. “All of you.”

Damian wanted to say something, his fists curling and uncurling by his sides, but he saw her stiff figure with crossed arms as she stubbornly looked outside. He was the last to leave.

He came back a few hours later, to see Raven sitting by the windowsill looking outside.

“He hasn’t left has he?” She whispered hoarsely not looking at who entered. Damian shook his head as he replied, even though she would not see it.

“His downstairs, hoping you’d at least see him.” He got no response, but she tilted her head.

“I didn’t see him leave.” She muttered vacantly.

“I’m here to convince you to eat dinner.” And Raven turned to look at him, a frown on her face.

“Okay,” She sighed. “But you are eating with me.”

Damian was startled at hearing this, a second passed before the words sunk in.

“Alright.” He blinked at her.

“Here.” She added and he told her that he would be back, as he left for a moment to get them their dinner.

When he arrived with food, they sat on a pub table that was added a little after Raven woke up. It could only sit two people, and it was made of some nice honey brown wood. The cushions of the chair are red and its frame is made of the same wood as the table. It was rather small for two people, but they made do.

Raven was vacantly playing with her food while Damian observed her with a frown. He had not yet scolded her for not eating, as he was giving her just a little more time.

With a sigh she said, “It’s odd, when I saw him, it felt like I just realized the world was a puzzle with missing pieces, and his presence just made all the missing pieces appear on it’s designated places. He was familiar, he was someone I knew—love, maybe even… but something didn’t sit well with me. I didn’t want to approach him. And I didn’t want him to approach me.” Damian just listened as she said her piece.

The two were enveloped in a tranquility that evidently belonged to them, and them alone. They felt secured in each other’s presence and there was no response needed.

~.~.~.~.~

It took Raven three days to be able to even meet Garfield. The sun was setting, and from Raven’s window, one could see Raven talking with Garfield. They were sitting on a bench facing the sunset, their backs facing the window in Raven’s room.

So, it was a given that the two did not see Damian observing them from the window. He did not look upset nor joyful with the scene he was seeing. But once Garfield placed a hand on Raven’s hand, and she tilted her head a bit towards Garfield, you could see Damian’s face slowly turn into unpleasantness.

When the minutes passed, and Garfield nor Raven had not pulled away from one another, his face contorted to wanting to storm out from Raven’s room to standing still and just holding his breath—just hoping and wishing—that she had not chosen Garfield.

But the minutes continued to pass, and Garfield’s hand continued to rest on Raven’s hand. And Raven glanced at him with a smile forming on her lips. And Damian couldn’t help but think that despite Raven having difficulties in leaving the building with him, if it was Garfield with her—of course it would be easier for her to be outside with him-- with Garfield.

And Raven started closing in on the space between her and Garfield, and Damian did not want to see that. So, he turned around quickly, and he stood with his back against them, as he flexed his fists, and sighed. He had hurried to see her; he had gone through the garage so he was unable to see them in the yard. Once he got into her room, and she wasn’t there, Damian absentmindedly walked to the window. That was when he saw her and Garfield together on a bench, looking like lovers.

He wondered how long he stood by the window looking at them. He closed his eyes and sighed again, by the end of the day it was never him. He walked to the door without looking back.

A few days later, Raven is pacing her room anxiously. She had not seen Damian in days, she worried he saw her and Garfield the other day and that was why he was nowhere to be seen. But she wanted to explain to him what he had seen wasn’t what he thought. She had to tell him.

And she could feel the panic go up onto her throat. She sat on her bed, facing the door. She had refused to step out of her room after she talked to Garfield—not without Damian. She could not find the strength to go out of her room after her chat with Garfield.

Raven buried her hands on her face as the tears started to stream from her eyes. All she could see under her closed eyes, was the time—that night, when she reached out for Damian. The pain when that black spike hit her sternum.

She recalled her desire to be with Damian, but right now she felt it so very intensely that she was afraid. She was so afraid that she had lost that chance. And the door opened, and in an instant she was up on her feet with wide eyes. Seeing that it was Damian, she sobbed as she ran towards Damian and tackled him with a hug.

He was startled and it took a moment for him to realize that she was hugging him so tightly. He gently returned her hug.

“I thought you wouldn’t come back. I was so scared.” She wept on the nook of his shoulder, her feet not even touching the floor.

“I’m sorry for worrying you.” He replied softly, and tightened his hold on her as he set her down a bit so that she could touch the floor. They stood like that for a moment.

Raven eventually pulled away and tried to collect her bearings. She wiped her tears and looked at Damian in the eyes. On the other hand, he was wishing she hadn’t pulled away-- maybe that was the only time he could hold her like that. And she reached for his hands and it felt so right.

“When Gar came, and guided me outside, I couldn’t find the strength to step through the door. All I could think about was that I need you. I need you to hold my hand as I step outside. While that night kept flashing through my mind. But he held my hand—and it felt so familiar. And all my fears just vanished.” She looked down on their feet. “And I found myself outside—with him.” There was guilt in her face and on the tone of her voice. And Damian honestly did not want to hear what she had to say next. But she held his hands tighter, making him decide to just keep quiet. A small smile formed on her lips as tears fell and splatter on the floor.

“I forgot the time I was injured, till the time before he held my hands. It felt like I could breathe again.” Damian’s right eye twitched, he wondered what was her point. She suddenly flicked her head to look at him, and he was startled.

“He will always be someone that matters to me, we will always have history. I have loved him for nine years, we shared so many memories—so many firsts. But I do not want to be with him. I want to be with you. And I know I am asking a lot, but if all these don't bother you—I would love it, if you would date me.” But she was greeted with silence. “I want you. I want to be with you.” She softly added, her confidence fading.

“I don’t mind.” He said so softly, but Raven didn’t hear it.

“If that is an issue for you, then I completely understand.” She continued on.

“I don’t mind.” He repeated.

“I know it’s been two years, and that there must have been someone you became interested in. Or maybe you’ve even dated a bit. I know we don’t talk about it, but I get that—” She squeezed her eyes, her tone ready to break in a sob.

“Raven, I want to be with you.” He cupped her cheek and tilted her head towards him. She looked at him with the slightest hint of distrust. “I’ve always wanted to be with you—I waited for you.” He said, being able to say those words felt like such a relief to Damian. And the tears started falling from Raven’s eyes as the distrust was washed away.

“I almost gave up, I admit that.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at her anymore. She cupped both of his cheeks.

“If I were in your place, even I would waver.” She told him, trying to catch his dodging eyes. When she finally was able to lock her eyes with his, she added. “Garfield will always have some meaning to me—his all I have known for nine years, even before sleeping for two years—my history with him is half of my life. I was afraid. I thought he was the only one who could possibly love someone like me—I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. I want my next memories and moments-- with you. And slowly those memories I had, and my history with him, will just be a fraction of my life. I want you. I want every possible milestone with you, Damian.”

He slowly nodded, and when Raven’s eyes registered the nod, he couldn’t help but smile and chuckle. But she looked like she was going to cry out of happiness and disbelieve. This time she has chosen him.

“I never thought this day would happen.” He leaned in to rest his forehead against hers, and a soft smile formed on her lips. And they shared the moment in silence. After a while, Damian talks.

“I was afraid to ask, or open up about this, especially since you were still recuperating—and your memories are fuzzy. But who would have thought you would catch me by surprise and open up the topic yourself?” Raven took the opportunity to plant a kiss on his lips, and he conservatively kissed back to which she deepened the kiss. And she pulled away recalling Damian’s inexperience last time.

“We will take it step by step. I might still remember more about Garfield, and I might get a little confused. But remind me that I chose you since that night.” She leaned her forehead against his, eyes locked with one another. Damian’s eyes flickered with surprise and the confirmation that she chose him that night, made his eyes soften with the acknowledgement. He caressed her face with his thumb.

“I finally caught up to you.” He whispered, a giggle bubbling up on the base of Raven’s throat.

~.~.~.~.~

A few months later, the white sterile room was no longer white nor empty. Raven had flipped the room with Damian’s help and approval. Its walls were now a soft lilac color. The room’s furniture was either accented with white, glass or silver metals. And the ceiling was littered with little crystals, that once the lights were off, would illuminate like stars in different colors. The medical bed swapped for a king sized bed. Her sheets were navy blue and white.

“Raven, are you ready?” Damian’s voice came from outside her open door. She turned in her white fitted dress with the thinnest spaghetti straps. Her long hair that passed her waist was tied into a fishtail braid.

“Of course!” She replied happily, as she ran towards the door, and tackled Damian with a hug and giggled.

“Excited for our brunch?” He teased.

“Absolutely!” She replied without missing a second.

Later that night they were in her bedroom. Damian sat on her bed and she was kneeling over his lap. Raven’s hair slowly unravelling from its braid. Their lips have been intertwined with one another for minutes now. He had one hand on her waist and the other on her thigh, a bit too afraid to rest it on her bum. While her hands were on his neck and on his chest.

Raven broke off the kiss, and started kissing his neck.

“If we’re going too fast, you can tell me.” She muttered in between kisses. But when she did not hear any response, she pulled away to look at him.

“I know Garfield and I had a lot of firsts together, if that bothers you…” Damian broke away from his dazed state and looked at her questioningly.

“I admit, at first it did,” His eyes followed his hand as it traveled from her thigh to her waist which he caressed. “Thinking of how he knows how to please you…” He looked back at her conflicted eyes. “But that just means I have to learn how to please you my way. You two were together for so long—it would be a given that I’m not your first. That is alright. But you are mine.” He admitted a small blush on his face. And she smiled as she kissed his eye and trailed kisses to his jawline. He was being brought back to his dazed state.

“I feel honored.” She whispered in between her kisses. And she playfully bit his ear after. Damian was startled and grabbed her butt and she gasped.

“Then I will take the lead then.” She whispered alluringly by his ear, as her hands travelled under his shirt. Her braid was completely undone at this point, soft black wavy waist length hair cascading down her head.

FIN.

Bonus Scene:

Garfield and Raven were outside on the yard and they had been talking for hours that the sun had finally begun to set.

“You know, when I woke up, I couldn’t find myself to walk out of my room. Eventually, I was able to overcome it. But I found that it was so difficult to step outside the villa. All I could see was that night and being stabbed, and the last person I saw.” Raven confessed and Garfield placed a hand on hers to comfort her.

“But Damian was there, he guided me and stayed with me as we walked outside.” A small smile on her lips. “I always held him like I was in open water and he was the lifeboat. I was afraid of losing him. I mean, I still am. I still hold him so tightly, because I’m afraid that it would be my last chance with him. I thought I was going to die that night, Gar.”

“But when you offered your hand and held me, after you said you knew of my condition—my fear outside.” She glanced at the open area. “I forgot how afraid I was of going outside. It was like my fears these few months were nothing but a phantom. You were always associated with love and happy memories for me. But you and I both know, Gar, we were imperfect. We were destructive. We had become unhappy together for a very long time.” And she glanced at him fully.

“I want to say goodbye.” She finally said, and Garfield looked at her gently as Raven extended her arms to hug him. “I want to start a new romance—with Damian.” She whispered as they embraced one another.

“I wish you two happiness.” Garfield said as he pulled away.

“Yes, thank you.” She looked back at Damian’s villa. “I was so afraid I would lose him, I still do now, it's why I always hold him tightly whenever we go outside.” She looked back at the sunset that was facing them.

“I held on because of him—I’m sure it was him, I could feel his hand and hear him every now and then, until all I knew was his presence.” She mumbled mostly to herself.

Alternate (timeline) Ending:

Damian was asleep on the table, and had woken up with a jolt, all teary eyed.

“Damian, what’s wrong?” Raven said as she approached the table.

“I had a dream, you got injured and you were in a coma.” He replied. And he tells her what happened in his dream.

Alternate’s Alternate Ending: (Reciprocate timeline)

“I had a dream, you got injured and you were in a coma.” He replied as Raven sat down beside him. She gently places a hand on his, as she smiles softly.

“Damian, that did happen.” She replied unhurriedly.

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scuttling · 3 years

Text

While You Were Sleeping (Okay, in a Coma)

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Derek Morgan & Latina Original Female Character Aaron Hotchner/Latina Original Female Character Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid Word Count: 2,058 Chapters: 1 of ? WIP Tags: SFW so far, Sophie is not in the BAU, While You Were Sleeping (film) AU, Coffee shop, Unrequited love, Canon-typical violence, Slow burn

Summary: What happens when Derek Morgan, the man Sophie Cortes is secretly in love with, goes into a coma, and everyone around them mistakes her for his girlfriend? As if things weren't complicated enough, his boss is sweet, kind, incredibly handsome, and makes sure she's taken care of while Derek is in the hospital. Plus, she thinks one of Derek's coworkers is more secretly in love with him than she is. Feelings shift, but how does Sophie explain to the world that she fell for Aaron while Derek was sleeping, without hurting everyone she's come to care about?

Read on AO3 or read more below! The morning that changes Sophie Cortes’s life forever begins much like any other: she wakes up at 3 AM to her blaring alarm, slides out of bed with a groan, tugs off the oversized t-shirt she slept in and pulls on a sports bra and leggings to go for a run. She knows this makes her sound like a lunatic, but with her schedule, if she doesn’t exercise before the crack of dawn, it just doesn’t happen.

After her run, she goes home to shower and change, grabs her bag and drives to The Busy Bean, the coffee shop she co-owns with her best friend Jocelyn. Jocelyn is the brains of the operation, the one with all the great marketing ideas, the one who handles the finances and vendors and supply issues and makes sure everything is Fair Trade or else—Sophie bakes cookies and makes macchiatos, but everyone’s got their strong suits.

She loves the coffee shop more than anything, its bright brick walls and dark wood floors, the smell of fresh beans and sugar, the bustle of regular customers they get from being so near Quantico; most of them are serious suit types, always in a hurry, but some of them are sweet, take their time to say good morning, like Sophie’s favorite customer, Derek.

She knows Derek is a fed of some sort, even though he’s not usually in a suit. He has that air about him, like he’s powerful and capable, like he’s seen things, but he never fails to flash her a megawatt smile, to lean against the counter while she makes his mocha and ask her how her morning is going. She’s a little bit in love with him.

Jocelyn knows this, and always makes sure Sophie is the one to wait on him; when she calls Sophie out from the kitchen specifically because Derek’s there, she knows he knows, and she flushes, but he says she makes his drink better than anyone, always asks her for a cookie recommendation on Fridays so he can take a box to the office, so she thinks it might not be completely one sided. Maybe. Or he’s just a really, really sweet guy.

On the morning that changes her life forever, he’s still very sweet, but she also sees a side of him she’s never seen before.

Someone tries to rob them. The man walks right up to the counter, no mask, no nothing, and tells her to put all of the money from the register into a cookie box or he’ll pull out the gun he’s got in his pocket and blow her face off. Her first instinct is to be pissed about this, which she knows is really stupid. She takes a step back, looks at the guy like he’s an idiot, crosses her arms.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Do you know how hard we work for this money? We don’t sit around… playing video games in our mom’s basement, like you do, by the looks of it.” The guy is obviously not happy about this, slams his hands down on the counter, and Derek, who is two spots behind him, leans slightly out of line to get her attention.

“Sophie, is this guy bothering you?” Before she can answer, the guy turns to look at Derek; he takes one glance at his hot, strong physique, and then his gun and his badge thing, and books it out of the shop. Derek tears off after him, and Sophie can see this ending very badly, so she grabs Jocelyn, asks her to cover the register and tells her she’ll be right back.

She jogs outside, expecting to see Derek manhandling the dumbass robber, or at least still chasing after him; she does not expect to see Derek laying on the ground, bleeding out, a bullet wound in his stomach.

“Oh my god, Derek!” She skids to a halt next to him, pulls off her apron—it’s mostly clean, she thinks—and lifts up his shirt, presses it to the wound to stop the bleeding. “Are you okay? That’s dumb, you’re not okay, but can you hear me? Are you going to die?” He chuckles, and that makes her feel a little better, but then he coughs up blood, and that makes her feel much, much worse.

She pulls her phone out of her back pocket, calls 911, and just stays with him, talks to him about nothing and everything, until the police and paramedics arrive. At that point, he has passed out, looks drained and weak, so unlike the Derek she has come to know… and love. Fuck. If he dies because of something that happened at her shop…

“Excuse me, miss, but we need to get him on the stretcher,” an EMT says, putting his hand gently on her shoulder. She backs off, knows he needs to be attended to, but she can’t leave him, she just can’t.

“Can I ride to the hospital with him? Please,” she asks the other tech, and she glances at her partner, who nods. Sophie sighs a breath of relief, sends a text to Jocelyn explaining what happened and that she’ll need to be out of the shop for the foreseeable future.

She notices that Derek’s phone has fallen off of his belt, and she picks it up, since the paramedics don’t seem interested. She absently decides to look through his recent contacts, to see if there’s someone she should inform of the accident: the last number he dialed belongs to someone named Hotch, and she vaguely remembers him mentioning the name before. It might be his boss, or something? He dials the number frequently, anyway, so she figures it’s worth a shot.

“Hotchner,” the man answers after two rings, and Sophie sighs, glad she got through to someone. Even if he’s not the person she should be contacting, he might know how to reach them.

“Uh, hello. I’m pretty sure you’re Derek’s boss, but even if you aren’t, you��re the last person he called, so… There’s been an accident. Derek’s been shot. We’re headed to the GWU Medical Center; I thought you would want to know.” She can hear the man moving some papers in the background, banging something around on his desk, maybe.

“We’re on the way; how bad is it? Is he conscious? What happened?” The paramedics signal for her to hop into the back of the ambulance, so she does, and she takes Derek’s limp hand. Her eyes well up with tears, and it feels real, now, that she has to relive it.

“There was someone trying to rob the coffee shop, and—and Derek went after him; he had a gun, and I guess he shot him. I mean, he obviously shot him. In the stomach. He’s not conscious; I don’t know how bad it is, but he was coughing up blood. Oh, god,” she breathes, voice shaky, and the man on the phone makes a soft sound of reassurance.

“It’s alright. He’s a very strong person, I promise you. He’ll be okay. You said you were headed to GWU Medical Center; are you with him now?”

“Yes. The paramedics let me ride with him. I can text you an update when we get there, his room number if he has one.” She can hear him talking to someone else in the background, but it only takes him a moment to answer.

“Please do. We’ll be there as quickly as we can. Thank you,…?” He pauses, clearly wondering who the hell she is.

“Oh, Sophie. Sophie Cortes.”

“Aaron Hotchner. Thank you. We’ll see you soon.”

The paramedics push Derek into the emergency room entrance, and Sophie follows behind, feeling anxious and out of place, and worried about his injury. They push the gurney through a set of double doors, and Sophie goes to follow, but a stern looking nurse in gold scrubs puts a hand in front of her, doesn’t even look up from her clipboard.

“You can’t go in there.” Sophie’s heart-rate jumps, and she shakes her head.

“I need to go in there, I need to make sure he’s okay. Please.”

“Are you family?” she asks, giving her a once-over; she clearly decides that Sophie is not family, and she doesn’t want to lie, anyway.

“No, I’m not family, but—”

“Like I said, you can’t go in there. Family only.” She moves her arm, waits like she dares Sophie to try, but she just sighs, sags against the wall, and the woman walks away.

“But you don’t understand,” Sophie says weakly, to herself. “I’m in love with him.” She brings up a hand to scrub at the tears forming in her eyes, and another nurse, one with blue scrubs and braids and a kind smile, rests a palm on her shoulder.

“Come with me.” Sophie looks up at her—she looks kind of like an angel, but it’s probably just the fluorescent lighting—and nods, follows.

She takes her through a staff only door, sneaks her into the OR hallway, where they can peer through a window at Derek, surrounded by doctors, surgeons, nurses. Sophie has only seen this kind of stuff on TV, so she doesn’t know how it’s going, but the nurse who brought her tells her to stay there for one second and bustles off.

It’s really scary to watch: there are bloody cloths being thrown around, and tubes and clamps and other medical devices she’s not sure the use for, but after a moment, she can see a doctor lift up a pair of surgical pliers, and there’s a bullet between the prongs. That’s a good sign, she’s pretty sure.

The nice nurse comes back, and she scares the shit out of Sophie when she puts a hand on her arm, making her jump a foot. She smiles apologetically, and Sophie returns it.

“I found out his room number, if you’d like to go sit and wait for him to be brought in. It's an ICU, so technically visiting hours haven’t started yet, but I can make an exception—for an hour, okay?” Sophie nods, wraps her hands around the nurse's wrists.

“Thank you so much. Really—I just need to know he’s okay,” she says, and the woman nods understandingly and takes her to room 104, where Derek will be placed after surgery.

She texts the number to Derek’s boss, takes a seat on the chair in the corner of the room. She gets restless quickly, stands up, uses the bathroom sink to scrub at her hands, because they’re still stained with Derek’s blood. It’s quiet, eerily so, until suddenly it isn’t.

Derek is wheeled in on a bed by a couple of nurses; he looks a little better, all wrapped up in gauze, and they hook him to machines, displaying a steady heartbeat. She breathes a sigh of relief. He’s alright. He’s not dead. That’s incredible news. She takes his hand, wills herself not to cry, murmurs that she’s so happy he’s alive.

As soon as the nurses leave, a group of people who can only be Derek’s coworkers enter the room. There is a tall, serious looking man with dark hair and a dark suit; a woman with thick fringe, a kind face; an older guy with facial hair who looks worried and weary; a skinny guy who looks about the same as Sophie feels; a petite blonde woman with the bluest eyes Sophie’s ever seen; and another blonde woman with crimped hair and glossy lips who has absolutely been crying. They look at Sophie, and she stands, drops Derek’s hand.

“Um, hi, I’m—”

“Who are you?” a doctor says suddenly from behind the group. The kind nurse who let her see Derek is behind him. The serious looking man reaches into his pocket, flashes a badge with a no-nonsense expression.

“We’re with the FBI. We’re his coworkers.” He looks over at Sophie, and she takes a deep breath. Before she can explain who she is, the kind nurse steps around the doctor, flashes Sophie a smile.

“And she’s his girlfriend.”

Uh. What the fuck?

Derek’s coworkers exchange a look that says pretty much the same thing; the tall skinny one looks like his heart has been broken.

Sophie opens her mouth to correct that extremely incorrect assumption, but she can’t find the words, and then she passes out.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner/original female character #aaron hotchner x original female character #aaron hotchner fanfic #derek morgan #derek morgan fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #latina original female character #moreid #while you were sleeping #coffee shop au #derek morgan x spencer reid #derek morgan/spencer reid

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albino-whumpee · 3 years

Text

WIJ Day 6: Mistake

This aren´t new ocs, exactly, but here´s some more of that one thingie about a pet whumpee who doesn´t know they´ve been saved and visits whumper´s home accidentally. For @whumpmasinjuly day 6 “mistake“

Taglist: @liliability @newbornwhumperfly @boxboysandotherwhump @haro-whumps

CW// Pet whump, sci-fi whump, lab whump, ableism, mass production of humans for selling, dehumanization, manhandling, creepy whumper, syringes, implied euthanasia. Ask to tag!

The samples that hadn´t been released yet slept in their tubes peacefully. Their bodies floated curled tight in the greenish water, silicone cords going down their throats for oxygen tangling around their limbs.

They were supposed to be finished and shipped to their respective owners in a week, when their bodies had absorbed the last few doses of the cocktail of chemicals in the water surrounding them. The person verifying the status in the tube´s holographic glass and passing the required paperwork on their tablet was a certified technician at the lab. They had seen thousands of assets grow from embryos to adulthood in those tubes in their two years in the field.

If it had been the luxurious, beautiful assets the scientist prided themself on making, they wouldn´t have clocked out before checking in the back corner, far from the light where the cheapest and rushed assets rested. Where one large tube containing the asset Z0-954, had been leaking for a week now.

By the time the technician noticed, the asset was already in process to pop out of its tube.

A mechanic arm held the asset below the armpits as a hatch on the ground drained the dubious water. When the asset hung from the mechanic arms, slowly, the tubes buried in its body began retreating into their hatches on the ceiling, coming out their orifices with a wet pop.

“Initiate reanimation” the Technician´s boss told them as they broke in a sweat.

They looked at the asset for a moment. They could notice just by the asset´s vibrant green hair, that there was something wrong. But, there had been cases they had to dye the asset´s hair or they came out with a funny pattern in their skin.

Praying that was the case with Z0-054, they pressed the button to initialize the process of reanimation.

“Reanimation in process” a mechanic voice beamed, followed by the strident sound of an alarm going off. The arms holding the asset extended two black pads, previously rubbed together before setting them in the asset´s bare chest.

“Clear” The asset´s body violently jerked forward.

“Clear” their boss repeated, watching closely the way the asset´s pulse began racing.

“Eye movement detected” the technician said before another wave of electricity made the asset swat the glass with its hands. “Motor skills status: Normal. Proceed to breaching, sir?” they asked the man before them as the asset lazily began trying to open its eyes and tossed its head around.

“Proceed. Call the hatching team and run an extra diagnostic exam on Z0-054, Collins”

Collin´s heart skipped a beat as their finger strayed from the pad in their hands. “I-Is there something wrong with it, Sir?”

The man´s eyes pierced through them “You tell me, Collins. What is this asset missing?”

Collins took a deep breathe. Of course their boss had noticed. The older man hadn´t been in that position for ten years for nothing. They gulped before looking back at the asset.

“It´s lacking a 30% of the expected muscle mass and brain activity had a decay during last week´s checkup...” Collins could feel their boss´ eyes drilling him to the ground “Despite the counter measures to fill the gap, the asset still grades 3% lower in brain and muscular functions. I-I would request an extension for its caring after breaching, sir. In order to verify its quality before being shipped” Collins quickly tried to bargain to their boss.

“Read to me again why this asset took only a month to produce, Collins” the man said severely, not bothering to look down at his subordinate as the crystal enclosures opened wide. The hatching team already positioned right in front of them to receive them.

The mechanical arms gently settled the assets in the floor of the tubes. As procedure dictated, the assets would instinctively try to stand by themselves once the arms retired into their hatches. Trembly figures of all sizes and colors managed to stand up in wobbly knees and lost looking eyes.

Then the hatch team member in front of them would open their arms wide and call for them by their serial number.

Collins whipped their head up at the green haired asset before them when the mechanical arm retreated and it fell to its knees and then slapped its head against the cold floor.

The hatching team member in their white hazard uniform rushed to pick it up when the asset stayed in the ground, but was interrupted by the boss himself.

“Leave it. If it doesn´t incorporate, follow protocol 13″ the man ordered.

“Y-Yes, sir” they replied, turning their eyes at the asset.

A thick worry began spreading through Collin´s body. They had never had to dispose of a mistake like this and the guilt of not having seen their error before began nibbling at their consciousness and pride.

The asset´s green hair flopped over their face as they pulled its arms on either side. It groaned as they tried to put strength into them to push itself up, but when its face fell again into the ground with a groan, Collin´s fingers tightened around their tablet.

“Stand up, Z0-954″ they tried, a tremble to their voice that made evident their fear.

Z0-954 turned its head to Collins, green hair sticking to its mouth before it dragged its wobbly limbs to the front again. Whimpering slobbery as it successfully pushed its chest up and kept its head high. Brown, glassy eyes fixed on Collin´s sighing in relief expression.

“Make it stand” the boss told the hatching team member, pulling on the knot forming on Collin´s gut.

“Yes, sir. C´mon here” the member said, slowly standing up with palms extended to the asset, just a few centimeters out of reach. The asset observed carefully how to incorporate and in a messy attempt to lift itself up it slammed it’s back against the tube.

Collin jumped when their boss walked past them and threw them back to the ground. The asset yelped in surprise, but this time, it put its hands before hitting the floor.

“Stand up by yourself” the man ordered the limping creature at his feet. It whined scared at him, before the man took a deep breath and fisted on its hair, lifting them a few centimeters off the ground before he hissed “Stand”

They let go and the asset attempted to curl into itself before the man kicked its arms away.

“Trust me the last thing I want is to put you down. Stand. Up” he snarled, drilling the asset with his glare alone.

The asset looked down at its hands before pulling strength into its limbs. Sniveling as drool dripped from its mouth, the asset pulled its butt up, extending its limbs fully before groping if it could separate its fingers to straighten. Slowly, fingertip by fingertip, it curved its back to standing, swaying back and forth and putting its hands in front for balance, before finally, it stood up.

Collins sighed in relief at the asset, smile widening when the asset smiled back. They couldn´t hold the gasp they made when the asset stumbled forward. Luckily, the hatching member´s job was to catch them when they attempted to take their first step.

“Well done, Z0-954. Good job” the guy cooed as they put a face mask with pump to the asset´s face. They usually swatted before finally the sudden abundance of oxygen made them light headed and easy to handle into a gurney. “The asset leaned into its handler´s hand and fell unconscious almost immediately as it was taken to another room, where it would be washed and dressed to observe its mental and physical development.

As the doors closed taking the last of the assets, another team emerged to clean the tubes for the next batch of embryos.

“S-Sir?” Collins timidly asked their superior as they followed him to the back of the tube. They saw him crouch and then tap the glass of the tube. Probing with his pen the width of the hole that provoked the leak. Barely a few millimeters in diameter. But even one was unforgivable.

“This section is also under your jurisdiction, Collins. Any leaking should have been reported immediately”

“I-I know, I take full responsibility for Z0-954. I´ll personally supervise its development to meet its owner needs”

The man snorted “It will be a miracle if it passes the first round of evaluations”

“Engineered humans were a miracle when they first started, but now they can be produced in mass. They´ve stopped being called human because they´ve been specially designed to perfectly fulfill different purposes no ordinary human could. I promise Z0-954´s development will be the closest to ideal as possible” Collin´s refuted, lowering their head to their boss´ silence.

The only noise in the room, the cleaning team´s hoses streaming against the hard glass of the tubes.

“Don´t promise impossible things, Collins” the man said “Even if Z0-954 passes, there will be unavoidable mistakes to explain its owner. Don´t expect them to take lightly that their money was wasted in a mistake”

Collins gritted their teeth “Yes, sir. If...If they ask to return the asset and ask for a refund then what should-?”

“That´s gonna be a problem you will have to handle yourself, Collins. As the technician responsible, the company won´t cover you on this one” the man turned on its heels towards the door “Be sure to mend your mistake. You don´t have authorization to run protocol 14 either. This time, I want you to prove to me you can do your job”

Collins stood there in the middle of empty tubes and watched the cleaning team hose scurrying green liquid down the drains in silence, before taking a deep breath and walking out to the development wing.

One stain wouldn´t destroy their career. One defective asset was nothing in comparison to the deluxe assets they had provided to satisfied clients. Besides, this one was designed to be effective in a fight ring, it didn´t need anything else but know how to move.

Its owner was known among laboratories for asking for quicker, smaller and stronger assets for dog fights in the underground. Collins was sure the man would just place another request in a month for a new asset to replace the last one anyways.

If the asset was gonna be set up to lose, then they didn´t have to worry about anything. They could shove their mistake under the rug and pass it as the asset´s inability to fight against better, stronger ones.

With a devilish grin, Collins stepped into the room where the asset was now sitting in the metal table wearing its white uniform, big brown eyes locked on him that softened when the asset smiled dumbly at them.

Collins smiled back before pushing it down. It whined and began babbling in panic when the technician strapped it with the thick leather belts. The asset´s breathing quickened, but slowed down when Collins patted the asset´s head, shushing it softly.

“It´s gonna be alright, mutt” they said as they reached to a little table by the side and prepared a syringe with an orange liquid. The asset only looked with wide, frightened eyes as Collins cleaned the inside of its arm with alcohol “As you are, it will be too evident that you´re just a mistake. But don´t worry, I´ll make sure you last just long enough to be useful to your owner. Fighting doesn´t suit you little one. That´s why I´ll make you durable at least” Collins said stroking the asset’s face before pinching their arm. The asset cried, but went ignored as Collins prepared for the liquid to spread. “If you´re gonna die anyways, at least, give a show worthy of your price”

Collins then took a sharp scalpel from the tool table and cut its wrist. It took a moment for the asset to notice it its cut.

Delaying its reactions to injuries would make it fight longer, giving the illusion it was far more resistant than it was. It would collapse eventually, but at that point, it would be too injured for someone to realize the truth.

Collins carded their fingers through the mop of the asset´s green hair.

“Happy birthday, Z0-954″ they sing-songed as they prepared the tools for the real tests to begin.

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etherrealoblivion · 4 years

Text

Chapter Two: Crude Awakening

Table Of Contents

Fic summary: Owning a bookstore in downtown D.C. came with its fair share of downsides. You never thought that being the target of a serial killer would be one of them. Luckily, a nice FBI agent by the name of Spencer Reid is assigned to watch over you. What's the worst that could happen?

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Reader

Words: 1,191

MASTERLIST

When you woke the next morning, you knew immediately that something was wrong. The air didn’t smell like a Saturday morning. There was a distinct aroma that you could only classify as . . . man.

Fuck, you thought, getting out of bed as quietly as you could. You’d only had someone break in once before, but that was enough to scare you now.

Heart pounding softly, you tiptoed to your bedroom closet, withdrawing the bat kept just inside. Feeling a bit ridiculous, but scared, all the same, you crept into the living room, holding your phone with 911 pre-dialed, ready to press at the slightest threat.

“AH!” you shouted as you jumped forward ready to swing at—

—your empty living room.

You sighed, dropping the bat and making your way to the bathroom. It was probably just the landlord smoking again, blowing in through the vent.

Nearly out of bitter toothpaste and barely any money left from last week's paycheck. Great. It’s not like you could give yourself a raise, that’s not the kind of business owner you were. If you gave yourself a raise, you’d have to give one to your employees. And you certainly couldn’t afford to give Claire and Caleb a fatter check.

Stale coffee and a migraine was a horrible way to start a weekend. Not to mention you actually thought someone had broken into your apartment. Thinking back on it, it was rather far-fetched. You had nothing of value here. Your TV was years old and your computer probably held the world record for the slowest system ever. The only thing of value you had was cash and your Grandmother’s locket.

You reached up to your neck to hold the locket for comfort but all you felt was your clavicle.

Rushing to the bathroom mirror, you pulled off your pajama top and scoured your neck and chest for the pendant.

Instead, you were met with your shirtless self staring back at you, no necklace in sight.

You ran to the bed, stripping it of all covers and scrambling to find it. You had surely had it on last night, you remembered!

But the locket was nowhere to be found. Anywhere in your apartment.

Thinking you might have left it at the bookstore, you slipped on some shoes and made to unlock the front door . . . only to find that it wasn’t locked.

You froze. There was no way you hadn’t locked the door last night. It had become such a part of your habit you didn’t even notice doing it anymore. Fear settled in the pit of your stomach like a stone.

Within 10 minutes you were on the phone with the police, trying to explain your situation.

“No, it’s more than a feeling,” you said, annoyed, “I locked my door last night and when I woke up this morning, it was unlocked and my necklace is gone and I can’t find my hairbrush, just. . . . Send someone over here . . . please.”

The voice on the other end of the line was patronizing and bored, spiking anger in your gut.

“Are you positive that you locked your door last night?”

“As positive as I am that you’re an asshole!”

Before the man could retort, you slammed the phone down on the receiver and dropped your head into your hands. The bourbon in your kitchen cabinet was calling your name, but you weren’t ready to let your guard down yet. The situation was too unnerving.

Deciding that an in-person confrontation would have a stronger impact on the police, you grabbed your purse and took the elevator down to the lobby. You only lived ten minutes walking distance from the police station. A brisk pace would get you there in five. And after that exchange with the idiot on the phone, you didn’t feel like wasting any time.

“And when did you first notice something was off?”

The cop taking care of you was a woman, thank god. All the men you’d spoken to were so dismissive. This lady was a nice change of pace. You could do without the interrogation room, though.

“I guess the moment I woke up? I just sorta knew something was . . . off,” you said, shivering at the thought of someone being in your apartment while you slept.

“Don’t worry, Miss. I’ve taken your report and sent a unit to your apartment. In the meantime, is there someone you can stay with? A friend? A family member?”

Maybe Steve would let you crash on his couch. Claire was out of the question. Other than those two, you didn’t have any friends in the city.

“No,” you responded sadly, “There’s no one.”

The door to the interrogation room slammed open and five people wearing thick vests that said FBI barged in, quickly moving the officer with you away.

“Officer Lombardo, if you’d come with me,” a tall skinny man said, escorting her from the room.

You slid your chair back, alarmed, and stood against the wall, hands up in a defensive position.

“What’s going on? I don’t—“

A neat woman with black, pinned-back hair came up to you and put a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Hello, hi, I’m Emily. Everything’s alright.”

She had soft eyes and her tone was gentle but you could tell this was a front she was putting on to comfort you.

“What’s going on Emily?” you asked, voice wavering.

She spoke calmly, trying to keep you distracted from the men holding guns behind her.

“The report you just filed came up flagged on our database — in reference to an alleged new serial killer. The second it was in the system we were called over here to. . .”

But everything had gone silent. You watched her lips move but no sound came out. Why is the room tilting? was the last thought you had before you hit the ground.

Bright light hit your eyes. Squinting, you tried to take in your surroundings. There were tubes in your arm and you weren’t wearing clothes. Ok. Hospital.

To your left, the woman from earlier, Emily, was talking quietly with a muscular bald man.

“Emily?” you rasped, still foggy from sleep.

Both of them looked at you, Emily stepping closer and holding your hand.

“Hey, how are you?” she said, then, to the man behind her, “get Hotch.”

“Who’s that?” you were confused and your head hurt. I just want to go home, you thought.

“That’s my boss, he’s gonna help you. We all are.”

Head pounding, sick to your stomach, you managed to get up out of the hospital bed and yank out the IV.

“Hey, woah. Slow down,” Emily tried to block your path, and you would have given in but for some reason, you kept pushing past her.

“I need to know what’s going on!” you said, a little too loud. “Please, just let me go home.”

“We can’t.”

You turned to a tall man with sharp facial features and a set jaw. He wasn’t smiling. The lack of lines on his face hinted he’d never smiled.

“Why not?” you whispered, unsure if he’d be able to hear you.

“You’re a target for a serial killer.”

taglist: @aperrywilliams @mjloveskids666 @dolanfivsosxox

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid gifs #fluff #smut #angst #fanfiction #fanfic #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #slow burn

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ketsuyuki-hibana-typed · 5 years

Text

I get it, Anon, I get it. All of the Pillars are alive. But, I'll be lying if I said I'm not mad at Muzan, but he's hot. And Muzan you is still a dick.

HEEE HEEE *MJ voices*

Overall, this is really fun to write!

Kibutsuji Muzan x Friendly!Reader (Domestic Taisho EraAU)

Let's say. Muzan didn't really care about the Pillars. He actually sickened by "Killing Muzan by Ubuyashiki: A Whole Plan" scenarios, but keep searching for Blue Spider Lily.

He didn't order his Upper and Lower Moons to kill the Pillars. Whatever, they could slay his minions, yadda yadda but he will not lay up his hand on the Pillars nor the Ubuyashikis.

The reason was simple.

You.

"Muzan, it's me!" Your cheerful voice was heard from the front door, he stopped everything he do and quickly rushed to you

"Good morning, (y/n)."

"Morning, Muzan!" You put your shoes on the shoe rack. "I will make breakfast, like always! What do you want, Muzan?"

"Everything you cook will be fine by me."

"Okay!"

He actually didn't need to eat that, but seeing you with your Demon Slayer uniform covered with apron every morning was really pleasant. Also your food is somehow great on his taste bud.

"Oh, thank you for the antidote! Shinobu-chan said that she wanted to know you, but since you said to not tell anyone, I came up with a reason!" You put rice on his bowl and gave it to him.

"And what kind of reason you give to that Shinobu?" He took that bowl and started to eat. Who the fuck is Shinobu, he thought.

"I said that I picked it somewhere on the ground!"

"That's the stupidest reason you could come out with. And she believed that?"

"I don't know, she just sighed and continued her works." Muzan chuckled. He usually stared at you eating, almost forgot his own food.

He remembered the first time he met you. He was hiding after he lose on his fight with Tanjirou and the Pillars at Ubiyashiki residence.

Muzan recognized you as one of the new Pillars and about to change his appearance but he was caught by you. He really thought he will be killed

But instead, you said, "Are you lost? Can I help you? You look pale."

Instead killing you on the spot for saying him 'pale, he's playing along with the role, told you that his name is Toshikuni Muzan and he's a doctor who had special disease that couldn't stand under the sun.

When he knew that you are new Pillar, he thought about taking advantage from you to gather information about Demon Slayers. He thought about turning you into demon, or abducting you from there.

But none of it was done.

Now, the whole plan is a mess. His intelligence and tactical thoughts are useless. He was simply enthralled by your own charm. He could read your mind, clearer than the sky. He never sense any animosity thorough your head. It's just cloud of full happiness and full of kind thought.

He fell, really hard, for you.

And you didn't realize because thanks to you, the demon races including Upper and Lower Moons were about to extinct because he didn't create them anymore. He simply ordered his only trusted demon and Upper Moons now, Kokushibou and Akaza, to searched Blue Spider Lily. The rest could fuck off.

And now, you became his 'personal assistant' including his lover.

After cleaning the plates, you headed out to headquarters to give daily reports.

"Where's my daily kiss?"

"Hm, what kiss?" You stood in front of the shoe rack, looking confused.

"Here." He pointed his cheek.

"But aren't that supposed to do by married couple?" You tilted your head.

"Aren't we going to be a married couple soon?"

"We are going to be?" You became more confused, it made Muzan infuriated but he hid it well. "Just once won't hurt, I guess."

You tip-toed and hold his shoulder, did a quick kiss on his cheek.

"Have a good day."

"Bye, see you on night!"

You didn't live with him because you still have sick dad and little sister at your home. He has offered you to stay at his house, along with your family but you refused since you didn't want to disturb his research.

When you don't have something to do on the headquarters or currently not training your students, you visited him again in the afternoon.

You usually asked him what he wanted to do, helping him or sometimes just sitting on his lab and reading some journals he made.

"How is your father? Did the medicine I made worked?" He asked while shaking his test tube slowly.

"Yes!" You jumped from your seat and ran towards his desk. "He felt so much better! Thanks to you, Muzan! I probably never find a kind doctor like you!"

"Well, that compliment seems super honest to me."

"Of course, I'm honest! Right! How should I pay you back?"

"Date with me, tonight."

"Whaaat?? Aren't we always dating at night? Well, except the day when I have mission."

"That's fine."

"If you insist, we'll go!"

He smiled again. You always succeeded on attempt to make him pleased, more than anyone else. It's just a simpel thing though, but he appreciated it.

After eat lunch, you took a seat on his sofa, doze off and take a nap there. Muzan joined you, sometimes he slept on your thighs, sometimes you slept on his shoulder when he reading his book.

"Muzan-sama, I came to-"

"Ssh." Muzan put his finger in front of his lips when he saw Akaza from the window.

"Ah." Akaza lowered his voice when he peeked up on Muzan's shoulder. "Miss (y/n) is here, I see. Excuse me."

He didn't want anyone to disturb your nap. Not after he saw your eye bags, plus scars here and there.

Well, should I ordered my remained demons to escape or don't attack her, he thought. He looked at you again. Wow, what an idiot expression.

"Mu... Zan... How about... Scaly... Skin..."

He wiped your drool, and smiled with the same idiot expression with you.

It really hits different when people were in love, indeed.

When night comes, your 'date' with him is started.

You will hold his hand and pulled him around on the way. The reason, again, is simple.

"I'm not really familiar around this city."

"Huh? Even though you live near here? No worries! I'll be your guide!" You showed him smug smile, and grabbed his hand.

If Douma was around, he probably laughed at you because he knew that Muzan could remember roads and places in the blink of eye.

But, no, he won't tell you the truth.

When you walked around, you usually bumped on your fellow Pillars.

"Tanjirou!!"

"(y/n)! How are you doing?" Tanjirou approached you with bright smile.

"I'm great!"

"Did you just go alone? I just got news from Kasugaigarasu about this place. There are demons, it's dangerous to walk around alone in this city."

"Huh, but I walked with Mu- I mean, Toshikuni-san, my- eh? Where did he go."

"Hm?"

"It- It's my acquaintance." You looked around like a chick lose its mother.

"I see. Anyway, please be careful."

"I will! Thank you, Tanjirou!"

After Tanjirou waved his hand, you looked for him. "Muzan! Muzan, where are you- whoa!" You almost slipped and someone caught your back in time.

"Careful there, lady."

"Muzan! Where have you been? I just meet one of the strongest Pillar, I wanted to introduce you to him."

"I didn't want to meddle with Pillars except you."

"Why is that?"

"By the way-" He put a red hairpin on your hair. You tapped your head, feeling something. "Perfect."

"Muuuu, you always bought me things when we're dating! The only things I ever gave to you were handmade omamori and knitted scarf. It's so unfair!" You light-hitting his chest, he just laughed while playfully fend your hand.

"That's the essential of dating." He patted your hair. "Let's go."

You're still grumpy but soon forget about that. Both of you continued your walk, from the square to a little bit quiet place.

"Oh, hi, grandpa!! How is your udon selling today?"

"Auntie, let me help you!"

"Girl, you look cute on that dress!"

Muzan rubbed his forehead. Are you really not knowing the concept of 'Minding your own business'?

"You're really friendly."

"These are the people who helped me!"

"Just a little help."

"It means a lot for me!"

"Hah, read the situations will you." He mumbled. He didn't really like her being so friendly towards other. It really pissed him off.

"Oh? Oh? Muzan, are you jealous?" You elbowed his ribs.

"Yes, so kiss me." He moved his face towards you. You hold his face down.

"Why is everything had to be resolve by kiss?! Muzan you-"

You suddenly stopped. The sense of demons lingered around your body.

"Muzan, back off." You unsheathed your hidden sword. "The demons are here. Tanjirou was right about the rumour."

You didn't waste your time. Not wanting the demons attacking first, you went to the direction where the demons were ready to kill you.

He just stood there while crossing his arms, smile proudly of his little baby slashing down numerous demons in no time.

Oh, what a poor demons, they probably wanted to report something to Muzan. But nah, he will just ask Akaza what happened

"Done! I'll give the reports thorough my crows later."

"What a reckless move." He wiped the blood on your cheek. "I see you're not hurt anywhere. Thank you for protecting me."

"Of course!"

"Let us continue our walk."

It's just both of you now, heading back to home.

"You see, Muzan. I might kill demon and all but..." You looked down and smiled vaguely. "I wonder what kind of life they had before they become demon. Is she a daughter? Future bride? A samurai? I don't know. But I always pray they will get a good life in the next reincarnation after I ended their life as a demon."

"Really? How thoughtful of you." He stopped and stood in front of his house.

"Yeah. So-" You looked at his eyes, grabbing his hand and clasped it gently. "I hope you could heal, I hope you could see the sun, feeling the warm dissipate into your body on our next life. I hope we could meet on our next life."

Again, he read your mind. Nothing. just pure thought about him being a complete healthy... Human. It's weird because he saw the human value inside you.

He didn't just fell for you, he was demolished by you to the ground.

Your sister sometimes told you to stay him at night because he seems lonely.

"Nee-chan, I will take care of father."

"But-"

"I'm a Demon Slayer too, count on me!"

"Well..."

"Toshikuni-san looks lonely in that big house, as his lover shouldn't you accompany him?"

Since there's no problem with it, sometimes you went to his house an sleep with him. When you do, he's really happy and always promised he didn't do anything weird towards you without your consent.

His bed was so big, unlike the futon on your house. After change into your bed robe, you likes to roll around without worry.

"You really like my bed?"

"Uh-hum." You put your cheek on his pillows. "It smelled like you."

"That's why I told you to move here." He positioned himself besides you. He tugged you into the blanket, kissed you on the forehead and brought you closer to his chest. He caressed your back until you fell asleep.

"Good night, Muzan."

"Good night, (y/n). Sweet dreams."

He didn't need sleep, he only need you to stay by his side.

Oh how he wish he went back to human again.

#kimetsu no yaiba imagines #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba scenarios #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba headcanons #kny x reader #kny #kny imagines #kny headcanons #kny scenarios #kny muzan #kimetsu no yaiba muzan #kibutsuji x reader #kibutsuji muzan x reader #muzan kibutsuji x reader #muzan x reader #kibutsuji muzan #muzan kibutsuji

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dopescotlandwarrior · 4 years

Text

Sinners & Saints-Chapter 10

A special thanks to @Statell for all your help and wisdom

Previous chapters at AO3

Chapter Ten

The sun bounced its light off the surface of the water looking like a million diamonds sparkling all around them. Jamie watched Claire laughing at something Darius said and he almost pinched himself to verify this wasn’t a dream. He had not seen her this relaxed in quite some time and she looked so beautiful. Adso stretched out on her lap and she stroked him while her attention was on Darius. She turned to look at him suddenly with a smile that would melt a glacier.

“Happy birthday Jamie. I have a present for you, want to see it?”

“Nothing can top the day we’ve already had but yes please show me.”

She led him below deck and unlocked the door to the guest cabin pushing it open. Jamie’s face was unreadable as his gaze swept the room and stopped at the tubes of oil paint, the container of brushes, a pallet, turpentine, and empty canvases waiting to come alive with color. He pulled a brush and bounced it between his fingers and then smiled at her. His heart was beating rapidly as the paintings appeared to him, one after the other.

“Do you like it? Will you paint?”

“Come here Sassenach. I love it, yes I will paint,” he whispered.

Jamie kissed her softly and when she moved into him he could hear his heart ramming as his large warm hand slid down her body making his intentions known. The mind-bending heat came on them so fast their mission in life was suddenly to get the other naked. Jamie pulled where the sarong was tied and it dropped to the floor around her feet. She was naked except for her tiny thong panties.

“Ah, God, you’re a beauty Claire and I love you.”

One grab of the bed cover stripped the bed and Jamie pulled off his clothes while Claire reached for him. They were out of control and Jamie pulled away and looked into her eyes.

“This is the consummation of our marriage, Sassenach, I feel we should slow down and pay it the attention it deserves,” was panted out.

“Too late.” Claire pulled him on top of her and raised her knees on either side of him. “I’m with you until the wheels fall off sweetheart.”

It wasn’t the slow-burn lovemaking they had fantasized about but reinventing themselves, breaking all the rules, and finding the alternate route had become their forte. When they dropped back to earth, panting and clutching each other, it was just perfect.

Maia served a late lunch and then it was time for bikinis and jet skis. They played until exhausted, pulling themselves up on the lowered aft deck as the beautiful sunset filled the sky.

It was the perfect ending to a perfect day when the couples curled up on the deck couches and watched Casablanca. Jamie carried Claire to bed and spooned her into a deep sleep. He was restless and his hand itched to paint. Rather than wake his bride, he went below deck to find a suitable place to work and he set his watch for two hours to prevent painting all night. Just before dawn he pulled his wife to him and sighed his appreciation. Claire smiled to herself in the dark room, aware he had been painting all night and thrilled she could lead him back to the canvas, even if she slept alone occasionally.

In Washington, Hesser sat back in his chair and thought about Claire Beauchamp. He was impressed with what she had overcome in her short life to become a full professor at the University of Chicago. A virtual globe trotter because her appraisals were in such demand. He wondered what caused the birth of Casper and how she became so notorious for stealing art. Most likely Javier pulled her into the dark side and he would spend the rest of his life in prison. It wasn’t enough to save her, but he would be punished for what he did to her. Hesser would keep her leash short and execute Javier’s lover, Joseph, as a warning to stay in line. Jamie Fraser would be of no use to him. There was a kill on sight order on him so he couldn’t be used to pressure Claire. He just wanted this resolved and these loose ends cleaned up. It was taxing to even think about.

Claire let Jamie sleep and pulled Adso from under the covers while he stretched and yawned. Adso’s preference was to stay in bed if either of them was still in it but his purring right into Jamie’s ear would surely wake him up. She held him against her mouth and gave kisses all the way to the galley.

“Time to head out Claire,” Darius was smiling and looked sleepy. “Or, we can stay right here for as long as you want, the choice is yours.”

“I got rather excited about seeing Croatia and eating more lobster of course.”

“Where is your husband?” No response. “Your husband?” Nothing “Who is your husband, Claire?”

“Hmm?”

“Your husband.”

“My hus…” Claire’s eyes went from conversational to lovesick in seconds and she left the galley, drawn to him, awake or asleep, she wanted to cuddle with him.

“Nice going, Darius,” Maia giggled, “ my egg casserole is done and there’s no one to eat it now.”

“I can fix this sweet girl.” He bent over and hoisted her over his shoulder heading for the stairs to the upper deck. He kept climbing and smacked her ass when she tried to get down. At the highest deck, he set her down and smiled like a fox. When she turned to the stairs he ordered her to stay. Maia knew his voice intimately and could recognize happy, bored, stressed, aroused, and dangerous. She closed her eyes and felt the excitement of what was to come.

“Come here, Maia.”

“No.”

“I will come over there and get you.”

She turned around as he was advancing and she held her hand up, “I will jump overboard if you come any closer!”

Darius let his eyes wander up her body slowly and he noticed her nipples standing at attention and the flush to her face. It was like catching a wild cat that wanted to be caught sometimes but he would trick her. He held a quarter up and asked her to call it.

“Fine, then I’m jumping, heads.”

She watched the coin toss into the air and land on his arm. “Ha, you lose!”

Darius pulled his shirt off and the sun bounced off his toned bronze torso. Maia licked her lips open so she could breathe. He told her to call it.

“Heads again!”

“You lose girl, off with the shirt.”

“But I have nothing on under my shirt.”

“You should have thought about that when you got dressed this morning.”

Darius had a beautiful smile with bright white teeth and full lips that made her weak. “C’mon little one, off.”

Maia raised her chin in defiance and finally pulled her shirt off, naked to her shorts barely hanging on to her hips. She was breathing hard and called tails for the next toss. Darius barely touched his cut-offs and they fell to the ground around his feet. He was uninhibited by nature and Maia was stuck on looking at him letting him sneak forward and pull her to him.

“You have a choice, dear one, I can pull them off, or you can.” She felt his hands pull once on her shorts and they were off. He pulled her up on the handrail at the top of the stairs and sank to his knees using a slow tongue to pull her into orbit. He watched her head go back to lean against the boat and her breasts bounce as she got close.

He kissed her and carried her to a mattress dropping onto his back and pulling her on top of him. Darius moaned when she dropped her body onto him. He sat up and pulled her feet behind him pressing down on her knees to supply the needed friction. She was too good at this and he held her still while he regained control. He slipped out of her body.

“Put your legs over my shoulders.”

When she did he told her to bring it to him and pushed her pelvis up and to his mouth. Maia was losing her mind and her arms burned from holding her weight up. She was making strange noises that made Darius pull her higher and then over the top as she screamed his name. Her arms buckled and she came down on the mattress as her orgasm ripped through her. Darius pushed into her and hammered with his own need until he growled and held her against him.

“That’s a good girl,” he panted. “Now you can jump overboard.”

He kissed her face a dozen times and then ran a towel under the cold water tap behind the bar. She looked like a sated angel lying there with her eyes closed. When he ran the towel down her arms, chest, breasts, and stomach she moaned and smiled at him.

“Will you be flinging yourself into the ocean?”

“From way up here? Not a chance,” she giggled and reached for her clothes.

In Paris, Joseph sat on a park bench and watched Javier walk around the park while he talked on his phone. They had been on the surface too long, Joseph felt, and he flicked his eyes to Javier as a warning, it’s time to go. Javier walked back to Joseph growling into the phone to go two-million and make the deal by noon tomorrow or he was out.

“Two million Javier?”

He sat down heavily on the bench and exhaled nodding his head. It looked like he had aged a decade in the past week and it broke Joseph’s heart.

“Our girl needs a miracle so two million is a small price to pay.” He looked at Joseph and his eyes were full of love. “I have lived a full life, I want Bear to have that chance and it’s all I want. I’m ready to rest in the ground and wait for you Joseph.

Joseph pulled him up and walked him toward the path to the bunker hoping the package would be delivered at noon tomorrow.

Cruising back to Greece would be a memory Claire would not soon forget. She glanced at Adso sitting at the edge of the deck watching something in the water. When she looked up the water was boiling with jumping dolphins who were keeping up with the boat like it was a game. She grabbed a phone to the bridge and asked Darius to drop the speed so she could see the dolphins.

The yacht stopped moving and Darius came down to lower the hydraulic aft deck to the water level. The four of them sat with their lower legs in the water watching the playful dolphins. Several of them came close enough to touch their feet and babies would swim between their legs. When Adso sauntered out and jumped down on the platform everything changed. He sat watching like he was unimpressed and the dolphins gathered around the platform trying to see him. He walked forward and batted at the long noses making them lurch back and blast out of the water like it was the most fun thing to happen in a long time. They tried to lift their upper body out of the water to see him bringing Claire two inches from a large wild dolphin who was captivated by her cat. She didn’t dare move and scare them away but she got brave after a while and reached out to touch one of them. Jamie got to his feet which dipped the platform underwater and Adso ran into the boat like a shot, shaking his wet feet as he went.

He pulled Claire up and walked her inside because the dolphins were leaving and it was too dark to see anything. He looked at her face and chuckled at the wonder in her gaze.

“Well, my wife is in a dolphin stupor so we might have to hold dinner for a bit.”

When Santorini was in sight the next day, Jamie and Darius were chomping at the bit to go spearfishing. Once a mooring was purchased the women saw them run to the tender and wave goodbye.

Claire laughed and followed Maia outside with a pitcher of iced tea and a deck of cards. Darius had secured a commercial grade fishing pole to the boat and the baited hook drifted out to the current to spin and bounce while the girls played cards.

Claire looked up sharply at Maia, “what’s that sound? It’s like a huge zipper going up and down.”

“It’s a fish,” and then she yawned.

“It’s a what?”

Claire looked at the pole and the line was being dragged out to the open ocean at a rapid rate. She felt adrenalin course through her body while Maia walked over and waited for several minutes, then reached down and locked the reel causing the pole to jerk almost in half.

“What now?”

“We play another hand and then bring him in if we can. It’s a very big fish.”

Halfway through the hand, the pole almost jerked out of the holder and Maia ran to grab it but the pole slammed her against the railing and she couldn’t move.

“Oh my God Maia, let me help you!”

Claire held onto the pole and both women were straining to hold onto the fish. They fought with it for twenty minutes before Maia could feel a bit of slack and started reeling with all her might. The fish would let them reel it in for a few minutes and then suddenly dash back toward open water pulling the line with it. They were exhausted after an hour and both sat down on the deck, holding the pole, sweating through their light clothing. Maia smiled when she heard the tender coming.

“Reinforcement.”

Jamie came running when he saw Claire looking like she went three rounds with Mohammed Ali. When he was told there was a monster fish on the line he ran to get Darius.

Strong male hands took control of the pole and they took turns reeling the fish in. Darius had the timing down to snap the reel lock driving the hook deeper into the fish. Jamie had the strength to drag it closer to the boat. Claire brought cold beers out for everyone and was captivated by the muscles that bulged in Jamie’s arms and chest.

“It’s close Darius, how do we get it onto the boat?”

Darius laughed at the question and told him it would be several hours before they got it close enough to grab it.

“No, it’s close, I can feel it getting very close.”

When the monster fish came to the surface and saw the boat it dove deep and ran the line out to the original distance.

“My turn!” Darius sat down on the deck and pushed his feet against the rail. He let the fish fight until he got tired and then started reeling. He worked the pole, pulling it taught and lifting high overhead like he was dragging the fish toward him and reeling quickly to take up the new slack. Jamie watched and learned.

The girls brought dinner to the table and ended up setting the plates and food on the deck and they all sat cross-legged eating and encouraging whoever had the pole.

A fishing boat passed slowly coming in for the day and two crew members laughed and pointed to the line in the water giving them a thumbs-up as they motored by.

The sun was starting to go down and Jamie warned Darius the fish was close. Darius looked out at the water and seemed to freeze and blink his eyes. He squinted and stared at the water.

“Holy shit!” In the next instant, he was overboard swimming toward the fish, he yelled to Jamie to pull it to the surface and waited for the fish to come up. When he saw the sword break the surface he yelled holy shit again and swam hard toward the boat. He climbed up on the aft deck and dripped water running through the saloon to the forward deck getting a stern look from Maia.

“It’s a Swordfish for Christ’s sake! Oh my God, what is he doing close to the island? He should be long gone by now. Oh! Jamie, don’t let go.”

Claire wondered if she had ever eaten Swordfish, she didn’t think so. It wasn’t long before Jamie’s strength was too much for the fish and it was reeled close to the boat. One last push of fight or flight from the Swordfish and it was completely out of the water dancing on his tail with the long sword in the air. Jamie looked at the gorgeous fish shimmering in the moonlight, thrashing up out of the water and crashing back. He had never seen anything so beautiful come out of the water.

Darius grabbed the pole and walked it back to the aft deck by the side deck that ran along the side of the boat. He sat Jamie on the deck and told him to keep reeling. He was back in two minutes with orange gloves on a grappling hook that he carried out to the lowered back platform. When the fish came alongside the deck, Darius swung the grappling hook into its side and told Jamie to hold it. He jumped into the water and fought the wounded monster. Once he got a hold of the sword and the body Jamie lowered the deck under water so Darius just had to sit with the fish on his lap while Jamie lifted the deck up. Darius sent the fish’s soul to heaven and once dead he took a picture of it and then cut it into thick fillets.

He and Jamie worked quickly to cut and clean sections of the Swordfish put them into freezer bags and stow them in the chest freezer. Jamie was sitting on the deck with his feet in the water throwing the waste far from the boat.

“Get your foot out of the water before you get bit,” Darius warned. He flipped the underwater lights on and Jamie looked down at a dozen large sharks right under his foot. He jerked it out of the water and they wrapped it up for the night. They both carried their loves to bed and Jamie locked up and set the alarm. It was a very good day.

Claire stretched and gave kisses to Adso who purred contently next to her ear. She showered and dressed before finding Maia in the galley.

“Where are the guys this morning?”

“Darius had to clean the bottom of the boat and Jamie jumped in after him to help. You two don’t act like millionaires.”

“Ill-gotten gains, sweet pea.”

Claire looked down both sides of the boat from the foredeck and could not see the men in the water.

“Maia they aren’t in the water.”

“They are under the boat and use long tubes to breathe. Look harder for the two clear tubes just above water level.”

“No need, I’ll wait until they’re done, just looking for a morning hug.”

Claire felt her phone vibrate and opened her text messaging. She read Javier’s message and walked up the stairs to the bridge computer to read his email. She knew he was working tirelessly on a solution and she loved him for it, hoping for a breakthrough. She downloaded a video file, hovering over the video she clicked the mouse and waited for it to load into the player. She was looking out the bridge windows when she heard Frank's voice and a child crying. She turned her gaze to the video.

Maia heard something crash upstairs and called to Claire but got no answer. She bounced up the stairs and found Claire on her hands and knees retching on the floor. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and tried to say “Jamie” but she couldn’t push the words out. Maia ran to the deck and pounded the side of the boat until they surfaced.

“Claire is in the bridge and something is very wrong Jamie.”

Enough said and he was taking the stairs two at a time.

“Sassenach! What’s happened?”

He pulled her to her feet but she couldn’t do more than snivel and shake. She pointed at the monitor and said watch. Jamie felt her pull away from him and head for the stairs she turned and put her hand up telling him to watch the video. She was crying and apologizing and then slammed her hand against her mouth and ran down the steps.

Jamie started the video and the images shot into his brain where they would torment him for the rest of his life. He had seen a lot of violence in prison, some that made him physically ill, but nothing could have prepared him for this. He turned it off and ran to find Claire wondering who he would strangle for sending this evil video.

Claire laid on their bed in the fetal position, clutching Adso and crying.

“Who sent you the video Sassenach?” said through his clenched teeth.

“Javier.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s Frank!”

Jamie struggled to hold onto his composure. He wanted desperately to run to the deck and throw himself in the ocean until he felt normal again if that was even possible. He heard Claire crying and forced himself to sit down and take a deep breath. He put his hand on her thigh and promised to make everything alright. He told Claire that no one else should ever see such a thing and he was going up to the bridge to shut her email down.

“Claire, hold on for five minutes, I will close your email and clean up the bridge and be right back. Okay?”

When he saw her nod he ran upstairs and read Javier’s email message. “Darling Bear, First, load the VPN and the email security program attached to this email. The video and documents attached are not to be viewed by you, I forbid it. Forward the attached to the Washington Post and every major news outlet, the DC chief of police and the DC district attorney. Send the attached to Senator Frank Randall as well. Above all, do not view the video, just forward them. This will save you Bear.”

Christ Claire, did you not read Javier’s message? Jamie closed her email and locked the video so no one else could open it. He cleaned the floor of the bridge and went back to Claire.

“Sassenach, come here love.”

He laid against the headboard, held his arm out to her and she crawled into his strong embrace. Her crying subsided and she gripped him around his waist like a shield against the horror she witnessed.

“We will forget, eventually, your mind wants to protect you and what you saw will be forgotten. Now tell me what you intend to do with the video.”

“I will ruin Frank Randall so he goes to prison forever,” said through clenched teeth. “I don’t care about the blowback. He belongs in a dumpster, dead and rotting. I’m sending it everywhere Javier told me to.”

“So you read his email and played the video anyway?”

She dropped her head, “I wish I hadn’t but there is no turning back now.”

Jamie tried to get Claire to rest but she was hell-bent on following Javier’s instructions. Back on the bridge, she loaded all the email addresses and attached the video. Jamie watched her finger hover the Enter key and then she pushed it. Her eyes instantly snapped to his and she looked scared.

Jamie sat in the captain’s chair and pulled her into his lap where she laid against his chest with her head under his chin. He stroked her hair while they were silent, watching the water and boats below. They didn’t move or speak until the sun had set.

“It feels like we just lit the fuse on an explosion we know nothing about Sassenach.”

“I agree, but I trust Javier, implicitly. One thing is certain, Frank is no longer a candidate and I won’t be forced to marry him.”

Jamie felt their story was racing to an end and he didn’t know what to do, except run. He helped Claire downstairs and they sat at the table when Maia brought dinner from the galley. While they ate, Jamie gave a brief version of what had transpired and now felt they needed to put distance between them and Greece.

“I say we leave in the morning and head somewhere far away. Maybe Jamaica.”

Claire looked pale since she and Jamie returned from the bridge, now she stuttered out her concern.

“I need cat food, litter, and treats before we leave. It’s still early, can we tender to Santorini tonight and be ready to go in the morning?”

“I’ll go with Jamie and you two can rest. You don’t look so good Claire.” Darius looked concerned. “Let’s go, Jaime.”

Jamie and Darius made short work of their trip ashore and were on their way to the tender in thirty minutes. A junior CIA agent recognized Jamie and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head. After they passed him he stayed in the shadows and watched them tender out to a huge yacht. He pulled his cell phone out with shaking hands and dialed the private number for Hesser who was throwing every object in his office against the wall in a rage over a video that was sent to him. Hesser could hardly speak through his panting and told the agent to give him the details and say nothing until he arrived. He pulled a notebook out of his breast pocket and wrote while the agent talked.

Frank Randall sat at his desk and stared at the monitor. He knew the video was a fake because he had no memory of such brutal behavior. His mind raced to find a solution and he tried to reach Hesser over and over again. He finally made his way to Hesser’s office and was jogging to the building when he saw the man walk out. Frank caught up to him and begged for his help. Hesser towered over him, looking down at the hysterical Senator with a menacing face.

“You’re finished in politics you pustular pimple on the ass of humanity. You better get your affairs in order before they come for you. Get the fuck out of my way.”

Frank argued that the tape was fake and someone was trying to ruin his campaign. Hesser pushed by him but before he reached his car Frank pulled his arm and drove his fist into his face. Hesser was shocked and staggered a bit looking down at Frank with bulging eyes. Then he dropped to the pavement, out cold.

Frank searched his pockets and pulled out the notebook he was always writing in or reading from. He pushed it into a pocket and ran for his car. He found a parking garage to hide in and read the notebook cover to cover. He giggled hysterically at the names and events he read, happy to have dirt on the powerful people in Washington who would have to help him. He flipped through to the last page and read the notes from the junior agent in Santorini. There was a description of the yacht and location of the mooring. He read the other notes on that page where Hesser had written video=Claire? Frank’s blood boiled and he headed to the airport.

The close circuit security cameras in the parking lot recorded a clear picture of Randall attacking Hesser. It would be added to the list of atrocities and they would nail his prison door shut with the evidence. Hesser didn’t know that Frank was already at cruising altitude on his way to Greece. He got lucky, had his passport, and found an open seat immediately.

While Jamie and Darius plotted a course to Jamaica Claire slipped away to soothe her jagged nerves in a hot bath. After drying her hair she slipped her new nightgown on, and it was a near duplicate of what she wore in Paris. Candles were not allowed on a boat but every lamp in their cabin had a dimmer switch and she turned them all way down and opened the big doors to the outside.

Jamie watched Claire lean against the door looking at the water. Her bare back was crisscrossed with tiny straps from her nightgown that stopped high-thigh to show most of her tanned shapely legs. He crossed to her quietly and kissed her shoulder feeling her press into his chest. When he asked her to wait for him to shower she looked up at him with wide eyes that he couldn’t read. Worry had settled into his stomach after they sent the video so he assumed that is what he saw.

After a calming shower, Jamie dried off and walked naked to his wife. He had pulled the bedding off the mattress and wrapped an arm around her to lead her to it. She giggled at him for running his hand along the satin garment whispering how soft it was. He started at her feet and talked about how beautiful Jamaica was while he rubbed and pulled moans out of his lover. His strong hands wrapped around her calves and massaged them to her knees for ten minutes. He was not in a hurry and noticed her smile when he described the crystal clear water around the island.

He moved to her side, slowly massaging her thin arms and hands explaining how long it would take to cross the ocean to Jamaica.

“Poor Darius will be stuck on the bridge for days, I don’t suppose we can take turns driving the boat.”

“He will set the autopilot once we’re at sea. The boat will warn him of other boats or objects under the water.” He turned her over and rubbed her back, then butt, and then down her legs.

Claire wanted to look at him and flipped onto her back, searching his eyes.

“I knew you before we met at Sotheby’s, not what you looked like but certainly as an artist. I broke many hearts appraising paintings that were fake. Every master painter has distinguishable strokes and I would know your work anywhere.”

Jamie blushed and looked at the skin he was working on. “I am a forger, not a master painter love.” He kissed her before she had time for rebuttal. She felt the kiss to her toes and wanted more but Jamie indulged himself in sliding his hand up and down the satin material getting closer to her breasts and core until she opened her mouth to breathe.

When his hand slid down her inner thigh she gasped and looked at him with a mixture of heat and pure love. Jamie twisted himself and settled between her legs where his soft, wet tongue made promises of the heights he would take her. He stopped before she lost her mind, wanting to love her slowly and let their passion build with simple strokes. He entered her, feasting on the story her eyes were telling, about love, hero-worship, and devotion. She looked at him like he was the king of men and he stopped moving so he could kiss her until he found her soul. She breathed into his mouth, “I love you so Jamie.”

When they cuddled to sleep Jamie hoped to find a jewelry store in Jamaica and a beautiful diamond befitting his extraordinary wife.

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lambroseforlife · 4 years

Text

Well, this has been sitting in my drafts for a while now. After sudden renewed inspiration and a bunch of half-done research over a year later, here goes nothing. I felt that the best setup for this would take place between books 2 and 3 so maybe like 2 months after returning from Egypt? For those that are squeamish and dont like stuff about periods then duh, skip reading this.

— — —

'Blast it all!' I huffed as I dropped the stack of boxes on the floor. Pretty sizable ones, by the noticeable thump as they hit the ground.

'Mr Linton.' I heard a curt voice. Looking up, I stared into a pair of cold, familiar eyes.

'Yes, sir?' I grimaced at him. It was much easier than smiling when your ribs were aching and lungs wheezing for air.

'You are two minutes and twenty-three seconds slower than you were yesterday.' Snapping his pocket watch closed, he tucked it back into his waistcoat pocket. His gaze flickered back to me. 'I do not pay you for your tardiness.'

'No, sir.' I beamed. Well, I tried to anyway. 'Just for my delightful company.'

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. His mouth parted slightly as if to retort but then closed.

I made the mistake of looking into that glacial, intense stare of his and felt trapped. But I didn't want to escape. Not when I felt like I could forget my worries and problems from the rest of the world when it was just him and me. His gaze held mine and I had to suppress the urge to shiver. Not out of fear, though.

A flash of images came to mind. Soft lips melded to mine. Ripped clothing on a hotel bed. Cold desert nights spent in strong, comforting arms.

Snapping out of my daze, I shook my head.

'I...' I cleared my throat and glanced away. 'I better get a move on. Wouldn't want to waste time.'

Without waiting for a reply, I hurried back into my office and closed the door without looking back.

I met my reflection in the glass windows overlooking the tall buildings of London on a typical gloomy morning. If I squinted hard enough, I could see a blush forming on her cheeks.

Get a hold of yourself, Lilly!

This past month I had been polishing my acting skills. By that, I meant pretending that certain things in Egypt had never happened. In general, both my employer and I had smoothly settled into a routine that, well, made it seem that Egypt had never happened once we both returned back to London two months ago. A bit too smoothly, actually.

Although there were times when our gazes would linger on each other for one moment too long just like earlier...

Enough, Lilly! Back to work.

Marching back to my desk, I sat down and stretched. What was wrong with me today? I slept mostly decently last night, save for waking up late with some soreness in my lower back—

Plink.

Opening the metal tube on my desk, I unfolded the paper.

Mr Linton,

It is already thirty-two minutes past nine and I fail to see my daily correspondence on my desk.

Rikkard Ambrose

So we were back to communicating through notes now, were we? Flipping it over, I picked up the fountain pen on my desk and began to write.

Dear Mr Ambrose,

On it immediately, sir.

Yours, Lilly Linton

I folded the note and placed it back into the tube, pulling the lever. I opened one of the desk drawers and found the pile of letters Mr Stone had left for me to sort through. Pulling them out, I began to go through them when I heard a gurgling noise. I looked around, confused. Then I heard it again.

What was that noise? It sounded like it was coming from someone's— oh.

As if in protest, my stomach growled even louder.

Right. Another thing I forgot to do this morning after waking up late.

Well, times like these called for extra measures. Opening another desk drawer, I found out my treasured stash of chocolate and grabbed a bar.

Not exactly the healthiest option for breakfast but so what? It was chocolate!

Unwrapping the bar, I began to sort through the stack of letters for Mr Ambrose's correspondence for the day. I managed to finish going through it in under five minutes too— both the stack of letters and the bar of chocolate.

No sooner after sitting back down at my desk once I passed the letters through the letter slot at Mr Ambrose's door, I heard another plink.

I removed the letter from the tube and picked it up, beginning to read.

Mr Linton,

Why are there brown fingerprints on my correspondence?

Rikkard Ambrose

I frowned. What brown fingerprints was he referring to? Setting the note down on the table, I was about to reach for the charity letters in the waste paper basket when I noticed something odd about the note.

Upon further inspection, there were brown fingerprints on there too! But how did it get there? Where was it coming from?

Wait...

Slowly, I looked at my fingers and then at the wrapper of the finished chocolate bar. Then my fingers. Then the wrapper again.

Oops.

Wiping my fingers and the pen on my trousers, I thought about how to explain my slight predicament.

Dear Mr Ambrose,

There was a small accident while sorting your correspondence. I fixed it immediately so it shall not happen again.

Yours, Lilly Linton

That should suffice. I sent the letter through the tube and took out the small appointment book with all of Mr Ambrose's scheduled meetings. I had barely opened it to the current week when I heard another plink.

Mr Linton,

What do you mean by 'small accident'?

Rikkard Ambrose

Darn! I thought I had gotten away with it. I picked up the pen to write again.

Dear Mr Ambrose,

Just a small, teensy-weensy, tiny incident that is barely of any consequence. Really, no need to worry yourself. I've taken care of it.

Yours, Lilly Linton

Not even ten seconds had passed until the next plink.

Mr Linton,

Do not test my patience. Tell me what happened.

Rikkard Ambrose

Blast! He wasn't going to let this go, was he? Chewing my lip, I picked up the pen with sweaty palms. What to write this time?

Dear Mr Ambrose,

The aforementioned incident was minor, completely inconsequential. Not even a small accident, really. Just a small inconvenience involving chocolate.

Yours, Lilly Linton

With bated breath and my heart ready to jump out of my chest, I pulled the lever.

Perhaps he would move on from it?

Ha, as if! This was Mr Ambrose I was talking about here. Getting the Queen to dance on the rooftops of Buckingham Palace in her undergarments would have been more likely to happen.

As if on cue, icy silence radiated from behind the door to his office. The kind of silence that preceded judgment from kings before they gave the order for executions.

Now to any person, silence was just silence. But not with Mr Ambrose. As his secretary, I knew that there were at least ten types of silences after a few months of being in his employ.

Seconds stretched into minutes until finally...

Plink!

Holding my breath, I unfolded the letter.

Mr Linton,

I do not pay you to eat on the job as my secretary. There is a designated 30 minute break appointed in the afternoon for that. See to it that there are no more 'small inconveniences' to distract you. Knowledge is power is time is money.

Rikkard Ambrose

I suppose that could have gone worse than expected. Considering the incident at his factory two weeks ago. Also the other business deal from the other day. And...

Well, you get the picture.

Sighing, I set the note aside and decided to start on the day's tasks. Hopefully today would just be another day at work that would pass by quickly.

It wasn't until later that I realized just how wrong I was.

— — —

A few hours later, I was in the process of organising new files to be added to Mr Ambrose's already endless file collection when it happened.

I felt a building pressure in my lower abdomen, on the verge of becoming an entirely uncomfortable pressure in my lower regions.

Wonderful. Another thing that I had forgotten to do before leaving the house this morning.

Getting up slowly and carefully, I headed towards Mr Ambrose's door and knocked.

'Enter.' Came the composed, cool voice that I knew by heart at this point.

Shuffling into the room, I saw that Mr Ambrose surrounded by a pile of papers on his desk as usual, reading an opened file in front of him.

'Ehem.' I cleared my throat.

'What is it?' He didn't look up from the file.

I contemplated how to tell him that I needed to pee in the most delicate manner that I could currently manage. I decided to settle with:

'I need to use the powder room.'

He glanced up at me, then quickly back to his papers.

'Go in.' He jerked his head towards the direction of the small door that led to his personal bathroom.

Without expelling the contents of my bladder, I walked as fast I could to the door and shut it behind me. Dropping my trousers, I sat on the toilet to relieve myself.

This was one of those times when wearing trousers was more convenient than wearing a dress and hoop skirt. Once I finished my business, I was ready to pull up my trousers and get back to work.

That's when it happened.

That's when I saw it.

A small, reddish stain on the nether region of my brown trousers.

Oh no.

No.

No, no, no, nononono !

No! No! No!

Why now?

Well, that nasty inner voice in the back of my mind retorted, that explains everything so far today.

My sore back, waking up late, feeling sluggish and extra emotional, craving for chocolate. It all made sense now but...

I frantically tried to think back to when was the last time this happened. Let's see...sometime shortly after I had returned back to London after the Egypt trip. But why wasn't this an issue then?

Because, my inner voice piped up again, you were home on a Sunday afternoon when it started.

Blast! What was I going to do now?

I went over my options.

Option 1: Try to endure the rest of the day and hope that no one would notice. I could even tie my tailcoat around my waist. It would definitely look odd and probably rouse suspicion but maybe it could work?

Yeah, right. If you bleed through your tailcoat too, then you're done for. Say goodbye to your job.

Couldn't that inner voice of mine shut up already! Why did it have to be so rational?

Option 2: Resign my job before I would be found out.

Definitely not happening. Not when I had been through so much for this job including leaving the country twice and risking my life multiple times. There was no way that I, Lilly Linton, ifrit extraordinaire, would let something like this get in the way of my independence.

Which left option 3: Ask Mr Ambrose if I could take my lunch break early to go home and change.

Just the idea made me want to disappear on the spot. It was embarrassing enough that this had to happen but having to involve my boss too? This made the situation more dreadful a hundred times over. But...

What other choice did I have? Unfortunately, this was the best option compared to the other two.

Closing my eyes, I couldn't help but to let out a loud sigh.

Remember what I said earlier about trousers being convenient? I take it all back. This was definitely one of those times when wearing trousers was definitely not convenient! If I was wearing a dress, then there may have been a chance that I could have held on a bit until lunch break. But there was no choice, I needed to go home immediately to change my trousers and retrieve that.

However, the bigger issue was how to convince Mr Ambrose to let me take my lunch break earlier. What to tell him?

Mr Ambrose, I'm feeling a bit ill and would like to take a break.

Great. That would give him the grounds to dismiss me for the day, possibly even sack me, especially after what happened earlier with the chocolate.

My younger sister, Ella, has food poisoning and I need to check on her.

Nope. Mr Ambrose would be moved to sympathy as much as a mountain could budge.

My aunt has arranged a meeting with a prospective suitor for me this afternoon.

Not convincing in the slightest considering that Mr Ambrose knew that I would do anything to avoid the topic of marriage. Especially when it involved me.

Drat! What could I say?

Unbidden, another thought popped into my head.

Why not just tell him the truth?

What? As if that would ever work!

Not to mention, a woman's....time was a taboo topic. Despite my mother's early death and limited knowledge provided by my aunt, even I knew that was something proper ladies did not discuss with gentlemen in society. It was highly inappropriate.

But then again, since when were you a proper lady?

Good point. It's not like Mr Ambrose was a gentleman either by any means.

Still, the main issue was that would Mr Ambrose be understanding even if I told him the truth?

I doubted that someone like him even knew something like that about females anyway, given that he most likely came out of a giant boulder. It was impossible to imagine him with a mother, let alone two human parents.

Enough stalling, Lilly! It's now or never.

Five minutes later, I stepped out of the bathroom after working up enough courage. Mr Ambrose was still flipping through the same file, not having moved from his position.

Standing in front of his desk, I cleared my throat. No response.

I tried to get his attention again. 'Mr Ambrose?'

'What is it, Mr Linton?' His eyes never left the file.

'Er, I was wondering if...I could take my lunch break now?'

Damn! Why did my voice sound so weak?

His hand paused, right in the middle of flipping a page. Slowly, ever so slowly, he raised his eyes to meet mine.

I swallowed.

'What did you say?' His voice was deceptively calm.

'Could I take my lunch break now?'

If his stare was cold before, it was frosty now.

'Mr Linton, did I or did I not mention earlier that there is a designated thirty minute break for all employees?'

'Um, you did, sir.' I looked down at the stone floor. For some reason, it was particularly interesting.

'So why are you asking me this?' He reached to grab another file from one of the piles on his table.

'Well,' I bit my lip. 'I had another accident.'

Silence.

I risked a glance upwards. He seemed frozen, his hand still holding onto the file, save for the narrowing of his eyes by 0.000013 of a millimetre.

'By any chance,' he finally ground out, 'is this "accident" of yours similar to what happened earlier?'

'No.'

'No?'

'No.' I repeated, my throat dry. Why was this so hard? 'A worse accident. Much, much worse.'

He cocked his head. 'How so?'

'It involves my identity.'

Based on his expression, he knew what I was referring to. While I was his personal secretary during working hours, it was as Mr Victor Linton, not as my true self, Miss Lillian Linton.

A female.

'Mr Linton.' His voice was soft. Too soft. Like the momentary stillness before a hurricane. 'What. Did. You. Do?'

'I- I didn't do anything!' Why the heck was I stuttering? 'Well, not yet anyway.'

'Yet?'

It was both impressive and a bit unnerving how ominous he made just one word sound. I felt like a mouse that had been cornered by a tiger.

'What is going on?' He demanded, eyes flashing. 'Tell me!'

I bit my lip and his eyes zeroed in on the action, following my every movement.

'I'm not sure how to bring this up since you haven't been out in society much but have you heard about a woman's time?'

'A woman's time for what?'

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. This really wasn't going to be easy, was it? 'There comes a time when a girl matures into a woman. Her body undergoes some physical changes and afterwards, every once in a while, she...'

Plop.

My voice trailed off when his hand let go of the file he was holding onto and it dropped back onto the table.

His mouth was now slightly ajar and his eyes were cast downwards, scanning the contents of his desk.

'Oh.' His voice didn't sound as collected as before.

'Yes.'

So he did know about it after all. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised as I was, given what he repeated about time and knowledge and all that. But still, considering this was Mr Ambrose...

'What do you expect me to do about that?'

'Huh?'

'Don't you females usually do something to deal with it?'

'Well...yes, but—'

'So do what you need to do. Stop wasting my time already.'

'That's the issue, sir.' I snapped at him, too annoyed to focus on the fact that he had acknowledged my gender. 'I need to go home and change. That's why I asked if I could take my lunch break now.'

'Why do you need to go home? Can't you do it here?'

I nearly choked. That hardheaded, miserly head of his was really made of stone!

'I don't have any extra clothes here and what I use to take care of it is also at home too.'

He just stared at me.

I shrugged. 'I mean, I suppose I can wait until later to take my break. You'll have to risk my true identity being exposed once your workers see me bleeding all over the—'

'Mr Linton!'

Oh my. Was it just me or were his ears now tinged a bit red?

Pressing my palms into the table, I leaned forward. 'Or you could let me go home now and get this taken care of so I can get back to work sooner.'

He leaned forward as well, sea-coloured eyes clashing with hazel ones.

'Indeed, Mr Linton?' I felt his breath on my lips.

I arched an eyebrow. 'Indeed, Mr Ambrose.'

'Very well then.' He straightened back into his chair and picked up the file he dropped.

'W-What?' I blinked.

'You may take your lunch break now.'

'Really?' I stared at him in shock.

I couldn't believe it had actually worked! This was Mr Ambrose we were talking about here. I had half expected him to tell me something ridiculous along the lines of controlling my body's functions and to stop bleeding. It wouldn't have been the first time he had said something like that anyway.

'I don't like to repeat myself. Go now.'

My face broke out into a broad smile. 'Yes, sir!'

'Also, see to it that this doesn't happen again.' His stare was disapproving.

'You mean taking an early lunch break? Or are you referring to my other problem? Because I don't know how to break this to you but—'

'The clock is ticking, Mr Linton.'

'Yes, sir!' I gave a salute and left his office.

— — —

It's surprising really, what one can accomplish during a time of emergency. If you were to ask me how I was able to go back home, change my clothes and even eat an early lunch on my way back to Empire house all within the span of thirty minutes, I would tell you that I had no idea it was at all possible until today.

Maybe it was possibly due to luck? That certainly seemed to play a factor as the only people home were my uncle, locked up in his study as usual, and Leadfield, cleaning out the attic. It was a good thing too, since I hadn't bothered to change back into a dress in the garden shed before climbing through my bedroom window.

I was able to obtain some linen rags designated for times like these (part of the wonderful experience of being a female) and changed into another pair of my uncle's old trousers. I even packed extra rags in my briefcase, something I probably should have done in the first place. But eh, better late than never, I suppose.

Since I had five minutes to spare on my return back to Empire House, I was able to buy a sandwich and eat it on the way. I was starting to understand the concept of efficiency, especially after working for Mr Ambrose. Huh, it might not actually be all that bad.

Thankfully, the rest of work passed by uneventfully. Once I returned to my office, I saw that Mr Ambrose had shut the door to his own once again. He still could tell that I had returned though, for I had just sat down at my desk when I was pelted with more tasks to complete for the rest of the day, including retrieving more files. But I was determined to work even harder to make up for this morning.

By the time I took a look at my pocket watch, it was already dark outside. Eight o'clock on the dot.

Packing up my things, I was ready to leave when the door to Mr Ambrose's office opened, revealing his tall, dark figure in the doorway.

'Would you step into my office for a moment, Mr Linton?'

'Why?'

'I have something I wish to discuss with you.'

'You can discuss it here.'

'I can, But I would prefer not to.'

'I would prefer to.'

'You do not get to decide, Mr Linton. My office, now. Close the door behind you.'

I reluctantly followed him, shutting the door behind me. He sat back down in his chair, his posture ramrod straight with crossed arms.

'In regards to the matter earlier today...' He began in a low voice.

'Yes?' Did I take more than thirty minutes to return? Were there more mistakes I had made after my break?

'Are you sure that you're fit to work?'

'What?'

'Are you fit to work with your current state?'

Was he being serious right now? Judging by the expression on his face (or lack thereof), I had to say that he was.

'Why wouldn't I be?'

'Given what has transpired earlier today, I have reason to believe so, Mr Linton.'

A spark of anger flared within me. 'Mr Ambrose, besides the two incidents that happened before my break, did I give you any other reason to believe otherwise?'

'Well, no.' He had the nerve to sound reluctant!

'Then yes, I am plenty fit to work.' I glared at him. 'Mr Ambrose, just because of I'm losing a bit of blood does not mean that I am incapacitated.'

He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.

'Furthermore, I am not weak. Women are not weak. We have been dealing with this since the beginning of time and haven't let it get in the way of doing what needs to be done.'

'I never said that you were weak, Mr Linton.'

'Then what are you trying to say?'

'I...' Something flashed in his eyes so quickly before I completely identify it. Concern?

'Nothing, Mr Linton.' That granite mask of his was back in place. 'You are dismissed for the day.'

I turned to leave but then paused.

'Thank you.'

He looked up from the papers in front of him.

'For what?'

'For letting me take my break early today.'

For being more understanding than I expected you to be.

Our eyes met for a fathomless moment. He nodded once.

You're welcome.

I gave him a small smile. Spinning on my heel, I left his office, feeling his eyes trail behind my retreating figure the entire time.

I guess that today may not have been a completely bad day after all.

— — —

Wow, that was a pretty long read. Kudos if you made it to the end. This was just my take on periods if they ever came up in the SnS world. I’m kinda sad that it never did considering this was a series about women’s rights and numerous other “taboo” topics in the Victorian era have been brought up in the books such as bathroom habits, “amorous congress” and “protection” for said congress. Oh well. I was able to articles to find 2 articles that I used for reference to write this. I’ll share them in a reblog since my post wont show in the tags due to the links. There’s not much known about periods in the Victorian Era since it was a “taboo” subject but there are some tidbits here and there that I was able to base this off of.

#storm and silence #in the eye of the storm #lilly linton #rikkard ambrose #fanfiction #oneshot #kinda a prompt but not really #repost since it didnt show up in the tags the first time #stuffartsy #knowledgeispoweristimeismoney

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sserpente · 4 years

Text

24 little kinks | Doors 3, 4, 5 🎄

“You remember that chocolate advent calendar I got you for December?”

“I do,” he chuckled and pressed a tender kiss to your temple. “You made me display it in the kitchen so I would not eat it all at once.”

Your smile widened. “How about we get another one?”

Loki raised an eyebrow, only now paying proper attention to the sex toy ad. Then, he frowned. It was an odd mixture of disgust, genuine curiosity and even a hint of arousal flashing in his blue eyes.

NSFW warnings: use of handcuffs and blindfolds

The God of Mischief blinked at you, both unbelieving and indignant.

“You will not dare stop now, will you?”

“Loki…” You knew how quickly you could make him cum to give him some quick relief from all your teasing but that would not satisfy him. Loki wanted to ravish you, he wanted to fuck you until you were unable to walk… but your sense of responsibility rang in your ears strongly.

“We are not done.” He did not need to nod down to his aching erection but his point was clear. His gaze was piercing, threatening, his nostrils flaring. Loki would be angry if you interrupted your lovemaking now but what other choice did you have? People’s lives might be in danger… and there you thought December would be a time of peace.

When he realised you were indeed not coming back to bed, he growled. Irritated, he stood himself, flicking his wrists to get dressed. His full amour wrapped around his handsome body, covering him wholly… and yet failed to hide the giant bulge in his black leather trousers.

He offered you his hand which you took, earning you a sigh and teleported you both to the compound.

Only the fraction of a second later and a funny tingling on your skin as Loki’s magic faded away, you found yourself standing in knee-deep snow, the falling flakes almost as beautiful as Loki when he slept next to you. Oh, cheesy… but it was the horror unfolding in front of you that made you gasp.

A large hole had been torn into one of the thick walls, foreign creatures snarling as they poured inside like crabs being washed away from shore—how many? One dozen, two dozen maybe? You could swear you had seen them before. From afar, they looked a little like…

Loki pushed you behind you protectively the moment he realised. Those were Chitauri. His still aching erection forgotten and arousal now quickly fading, his instincts took over. Two sharp daggers materialised in his hands, his jaw clenching.

“Are those… h-how? Where do they come from?”

“We will find out.”

He tossed you one dagger which you caught skilfully. Loki had taught you how to use just a small dagger to your advantage. You fought your way through to the Avengers rapidly, taking only a few bruises and a cut on your calf. Nothing Loki would be unable to heal for you later.

“What took you so long?!” Tony bellowed, his voice mechanic due to his Iron Man suit. Steve flung Thor’s hammer at one of the Chitauri, killing it instantly before he darted forward to give him cover.

“Where the hell are those things coming from, Reindeer Games?” Loki’s dislike for the nickname he had chosen for him showed when he slid a passing Chitauri’s throat. But what irritated him even more was that he did not know. Most of them had died along with their abomination of a planet back when Stark destroyed it and Thanos was dead.

There were only a handful of them left, with the heroes all flying and jumping around to end them quickly and Loki destroying most of them. The dreadful silence spreading in the compound when the last disgusting body dropped dead to the ground rang in your ears like the screeching of a bat.

“What on Earth happened here?” You said breathlessly, leaning against Loki for support. Natasha pursed her lips when she saw.

They had attacked out of nowhere, remembering whom they had dealt with back in New York, so you learned when you sat at the huge glass table in the conference room, clutching a hot cup of coffee. It would explain the explosions you had heard on the phone.

“Do you have any idea where they came from?” You asked Loki quietly. You were pretty much the only one speaking to him like you would to any other civilised person. The God of Mischief lifted his chin, leaning back as his blue eyes briefly locked with Thor’s.

“They might not be the only ones who survived. More of them could be hiding here on Midgard.”

“Where?” Tony probed.

“They prefer dark places, preferably underground.”

“The sewers.” Natasha concluded.

“That could be an opportunity.”

“I’ll contact the local sanitary district. They can give us instant access to copies of the ground plans of the sewers. FRIDAY will have them within the next hour.”

“(Y/N), you are coming to our Christmas dinner, right?” Tony asked. While FRIDAY was doing all the work and searching for any alien abnormalities in the country over the last couple of weeks, the Avengers took the time to finally take a breath again.

Fighting creatures from outer space had long become a routine—and none of them were willing to let the jolly Christmas spirit escape through that giant hole in the wall.

“Of course… if I can bring Loki.”

“If he behaves,” he retorted grumpily. The God of Mischief rolled his eyes in response in an annoyed manner, resulting in Thor patting his back fiercely.

“Well, that’ll be fun, brother. We’ll stuff ourselves with turkey, open those Christmas crackers (Y/N) brings every year, play some games and drink mulled wine and chocolate fruit… you will love this Midgardian holiday.”

Loki said nothing. He had been quiet ever since the attack, only speaking a few words if necessary. His bad mood infected you. A particularly hard blow from one of the Chitauri had caused you a growing headache, a slight concussion maybe.

“Let’s go home.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his body. “Call me if there’s any news. We’ll be here in a heartbeat.”

“Dr Cho should treat your wounds.” You shook your head quickly.

“Loki can do that.”

“Alright then... Anyhow, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can enjoy some mulled wine and fucking celebrate Christmas like we should.”

“Language…” Steve muttered. You nodded. Mulled wine sounded like a great idea, a Christmas market even better. You’d have to come up with something to comfort Loki after your prompt departure this morning after all.

His magic made it worse, the pain rippling through your head when he teleported you back into your bedroom nearly forcing you to your knees. Loki scooped you up like a bride when he noticed your growing weakness, making you lie down on your bed. His piercing blue eyes scanned your body so fast you shifted uncomfortably, hoping he would not find any major injuries.

“I took a hit on the head, should be fine in a few hours…” His gaze was strict, palm coming up to touch your forehead and ease your headache before he tended to your calf.

“Loki… are you okay? You’re being unusually quiet.”

“I am bursting.” You glanced down. He was still hard.

“How were you able to hide that from the Avengers?”

“You should be familiar with my illusions by now.” His voice changed. It became hoarse, demanding and darker, luring you right into doing his bidding—especially if that included you naked.

Both of you could tell you were in no condition to bring him release now. Besides, despite his erection, the moment was gone. There was a problem at hand—with aliens Loki would have preferred never having to see again.

A sigh escaped his lips as he joined you on the bed, pressing you against his strong body.

“Sorry…” Your eyes fell shut. “That’s not how I imagined our December to go.”

“Shh… never apologise, my sweet.” A small smile tugged on your lips when you fell back asleep to let your body recover.

The following days were no better. You woke to countless messages from Tony, busied yourself with meetings and first searches down in the sewers. You only hoped that their suspicions were right and the Chitauri were indeed hiding underground—not to mention the tube in New York. As long as you were unsure every last one of them had been maimed, people’s lives were in danger—and that was hardly ideal at this time of the year.

Steve had roped Loki and you in so much you even forgot about opening your advent calendar. Well—Loki did not forget about it. Every morning, after your coffee had woken you up properly from the lack of sleep and time for yourselves, you noticed one box missing. You did not know where they had gone but surely, Loki was up to something. If he knew what he unpacked every morning, that was.

The fifth of December was a Thursday. None of you had had luck thus far in tracking down any remaining Chitauri—if there were any—but slowly, the government started to panic, wanting this issue to be resolved when all you wanted was a break from the humid air underground, all the dirt, vomit-up, rat shit and other emetic smells, not to mention the darkness.

This was not how you had imagined your pre-Christmas time to be. Furthermore… well, not every couple had sex every night and morning. But the advent calendar you had bought was inspiring and it tore your nerves apart that even in sleep, you were unable to rest properly.

Loki’s unease infected you. The Chitauri reminded him of his time with Thanos and whenever he suffered, then so did you. That was what tired you both.

You flinched when your phone rang, forcefully ripping you from slumber. Loki growled. With a flick of his hand, he switched it off and rolled over, preventing you from stirring.

That night he had healed your concussion and that bleeding cut on your calf, he had relieved himself under the shower after you had fallen asleep. He needed you today—and he knew how much you needed him too. Both of you had to relieve some stress and that advent calendar you had suggested to buy would help you do just that.

Yesterday’s door contained a blindfold. The day before it was lust-enhancing lube which could also be used as massage oil. This morning… Loki had removed the box last night already and hid it under your bed. Handcuffs… this morning he would make sure you both relaxed.

You were still half asleep by the time Loki gently took your wrists and held them down above your head. In this state, you were too tired to question him—right until you suddenly felt something soft around them, locking you to the bedpost.

“Loki?” Your eyes flew open. You glanced up to spot a pair of plush handcuffs immobilising your hands all the while Loki already busied himself with your sleepwear, slowly pulling it off your body.

“Lights out, sweet one…” He mused hoarsely. You gasped when he slipped the blindfold on you, leaving you completely at his mercy.

“S-so that’s where the boxes went.”

Loki chuckled. “You are not surprised, are you?”

“Never, Trickster.” You shivered when he removed the covers, exposing your now naked skin to his greedy eyes. You could tell he was licking his lips without even seeing him.

He had to admit, the surprises the advent calendar had revealed in the last three days had played right into his cards. Robbing you of some of your senses was the perfect way to take your minds off things and make you relax for him—and if anything, Loki wanted you to feel as good as you made him feel.

The massage oil smelled like fresh coconuts, like that shampoo you had used at the beginning of the year. It warmed quickly in his hands when he poured it into his palms, then spread it all over your abdomen.

Your breathing was shaky already. He grinned.

Loki shushed you when you squirmed and bucked your hips up to meet his touch. “Patience, my sweet…”

“W-what is that?”

“Massage oil,” he explained briefly. “Now close your eyes and let me pamper that beautiful body of yours.” Let me prepare your wanton quim for my aching length… he added silently.

In any other universe, Loki could have been a massage therapist. Magical big and soft hands explored your curves and found your knots, focusing on the muscles which needed his attention the most. Not a single body part was left out. He massaged your thighs and calves, your feet and your arms, your hips, your hands… his own breathing growing heavier the closer he inched between your legs.

You were dripping by the time he paid proper attention to your clit, circling it lazily and applying just enough pressure to make you bucked your hips again, a scream escaping your lips when he slipped two fingers inside your warmth to test your wetness. You were so close… the knot tightening in your stomach warming your whole body from head to toe, making you ready for waves of pleasure cursing through your limbs…

You moaned his name when you fell from the cliff, your tight walls clenching around his fingers as he fucked you through your orgasm, kneading your clit firmly. He chuckled once more. With him, lust-enhancing lube was redundant.

“Loki, please…”

Your voice sounded like music in his ears. Freeing his pulsing erection from his trousers, he positioned himself between your legs, his tip, leaking pre-cum already, pressing against your wet and awaiting entrance. Power surged through him as he watched your blindfolded form awaiting his next move.

He sheathed himself inside you with but one firm thrust, his hands grabbing your hips for support. You moaned again, your cunt welcoming him as he retreated and rutted back into you, quickly finding a pace that made you both lose your minds.

The fact you could neither see nor touch him aroused you both even more. Never before had you felt such intense pleasure. Your wrists were getting sore from pulling at the handcuffs so much but you couldn’t care less. Knowing Loki was in charge and could do to you whatever he pleased felt so exciting by the time he was about to cum your body had already recovered for another orgasm.

You reached your high together, Loki groaning as he spilled himself inside you and his cock twitching against your walls as he filled you with your seed. You contracted around him, milking him for all he was worth until he collapsed on top of you completely spent, quickly waving his hand to free you from those handcuffs—even if he wished he could keep you like this for a while longer. Well… there would be a lot more time until Christmas.

“Thank you.” You murmured when he removed the blindfold for you and had you snuggle up against him. You didn’t thank him for the sex. You didn’t thank him for the orgasms… Loki and you were like two magnets, unable to resist one another. The closeness and body contact meant so much more than sex… and so did taking your minds off things before you returned to the exhausting life as an Avenger.

You had ended up as one of them by coincidence. You had no superpowers, no magical hammer that only you could lift and you did not turn into a green monster. You were merely a young woman with martial arts experience, pride and a sense for doing the right thing without being as self-righteous as Steve or as selfish as Tony had once been—you were somewhere in between, neither hero nor villain—which was one of the many reasons, so Loki had admitted to you once, why he had fallen in love with you.

A/N: Door 6 will be opened tomorrow, on December 6th!

Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my first (to be) published novel! Also, if you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

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delimeful · 4 years

Text

WIBAR Intermission: Making Adjustments (1)

welcome to the first chapter of the intermission! if you’re new to this AU, you can find the first chapter here and the ao3 story here!

warnings: tension, blood, fear, nightmares, medical torture, needle mention

Virgil’s first impression of their ship was that it looked a lot less futuristic than Star Wars would have had him believe.

It was less ‘fighter jet’ and more ‘classic UFO’ in style, cylindrical and all curves instead of edges. The panels on it seemed to be made of some obsidian-like metal, glinting in the storm’s light. He didn’t know how it compared with other ships, seeing as he’d spent most of his time in space stuck in a cell on one, and thus didn’t have many references.

Oh his shoulder, Patton shook, spraying water from his ruff of feathers like a dog after a bath. Virgil squinted as a few droplets hit his face, and ignored the odd staring that the thin, willowy alien- Logan?- was doing. If Patton’s friend had something to say to him, he could say it outright, because Virgil wasn’t a mind reader.

... Were there aliens that could read minds?

Patton tapped his shoulder with a clawed finger, pointing at a slight imprint in the ship. “There’s the door! Luckily, we’ve got one of the bigger models since Roman is on the larger end of the alien size scale! You’ll fit just fine.”

“Lucky isn't the word I would use.” Virgil’s shoulders rose slightly as he caught the grumble from a few feet behind him, unheard by Patton’s duller ears. If he wasn’t so on edge, he’d be annoyed. If Roman was going to shit-talk him, he could at least do it in something other than Common so Virgil didn’t have to listen to it.

It was already difficult enough just letting the Crav’on walk behind him; everything in Virgil screamed danger at even the smallest movement from the bulky alien. At a squat five foot, Roman wasn’t able to loom over Virgil, but his spike-like scales were all fully extended, making him look like a mix between an angry cat and a porcupine. His rigid, shell-like ears kept twitching, and frankly, Virgil was expecting to get one of those scales through his spine any minute now.

Patton shifted eagerly, his feathers fluffing in a way that meant he wanted down, and Virgil swiftly crouched to allow the Ampen an easier trip to the ground. Both of the others twitched at the fast movement, and he barely repressed the urge to flinch in response. Showing his nerves would only make them more anxious. Conceal, don’t feel, ect.

As promised, he only had to duck his head slightly to get through the ship’s main entry door, and the hallways were luckily tall enough that he could pass through in his customary slouch. He couldn’t help but stare like an idiot as Patton led him through the ship’s passages, getting glimpses of other rooms full of the alien versions of furniture and books. Such normal, everyday objects, but for a while he’d never thought he’d get to see them again.

Roman and Logan accompanied them, as though the moment they let Patton out of their sight, he’d vanish. Though he suspected this in large had to do with the Ampen dragging around an entire Human, he could understand it. He’d also do just about anything to keep Patton safe, after all. He couldn’t blame them for it when he himself had a panic attack nearly every time the Ampen had left for a town to get supplies without him.

“Here!” Patton announced, guiding him into what was probably a bathroom. The Ampen leapt up onto the counter, pulling a white cylindrical container from one of the shelves. “We’ve got plenty of bandages for when Roman gets himself into trouble. Can you rinse that scratch off for me?”

Virgil nodded and spent a moment fiddling with the sink while Roman protested loudly, something about defending his honor and trouble finding him. Once he managed to get the water running, he carefully peeled his sleeve away from his cheek, wincing when the fibers pulled at the newly clotted blood. Logan appeared at his side and offered him a dark cloth towel, making him jump in surprise. “Uh, thanks.”

After a fair amount of delicate washing and applying some basic disinfectant spray, Patton gestured for him to crouch. His eyes flickered to the other two, who were watching him with fascination and disgust, respectively. He… didn’t particularly want to be more exposed than he already was in front of them, Roman especially, but it was Patton asking, and what right did he have to deny Patton anything? He folded down into range of his little clawed hands, trying not to shiver at the cool air on the back of his neck.

Patton carefully applied gauze and tape all along the injury, making him feel like an underdressed mummy. “There! They’re pretty shallow, so they should heal up in no time with your healing rate!”

“Thanks, Pat.” He quickly rose back to a standing position, shoulders slouched.

The Ampen beamed at him, and Virgil felt more than saw the other two aliens stiffen. He let the edge of his mouth curl up in response, but carefully didn’t show any teeth. Never let it be said that he didn’t learn.

“Patton.” Logan reached out with one of his upper arms, settling crystalline fingers onto Patton’s shoulder. The Ampen leaned into the touch with a melodic hum. “Perhaps we could settle in the living quarters. We have a lot to catch up on.”

Virgil glanced between them, remembering that they were Patton’s real friends, and they’d been looking for Patton for ages, and had somehow managed to track them down where a huge smuggling organization had failed. Patton no doubt missed them just as much, his antennae fluffed out the way they were when he was truly happy.

He wasn’t about to ruin their happy reunion by making the others uncomfortable or worse, afraid. He couldn’t do that to Patton, even if his chest ached with the certainty that his welcome would only be temporary. Maybe the less he intruded, the longer they’d let him stay?

He cleared his throat awkwardly, drawing their attention. “I’m tired. Is it okay if I…?”

Patton frowned in worry and Roman sneered, but Logan was the one to speak, extra arms tucked behind his back politely. “Of course. We have a guest room, though it’s not particularly furnished at the moment.”

Virgil’s shoulders dropped a little at the idea of having some space to himself to breathe. “Yeah, that works perfect. Thank you.”

Once they reached the room, Patton was beckoning him down into a crouch again so he could check his head for ‘human illnesses’. Virgil chuckled quietly, still all-too-aware of the foreign eyes on him.

“No fever, Pat. I’m a little… too-much, right now.” He carefully moved Patton’s hand from his forehead and patted it like he was handling precious glass. “I’ll be okay. You said… they’re safe, yeah?”

Patton nodded exuberantly. “I would trust them with my life, Vee.” He paused, antennae flicking back and forth in uncertainty. “I… can I come check in later?”

Virgil felt himself soften further, well aware of Patton’s nerves at separating. He felt the same way, after all. “Always.”

Patton nodded again, gently bumping his head against the underside of Virgil’s chin before finally withdrawing. He watched as the three of them began to walk down the hall, Patton waving with a tiny hand and Roman shooting him a glare, and then ducked into the guest room, making sure to leave the sliding door partially open.

It was plain but had all the necessities, which was all Virgil really cared about, considering he’d been sleeping on the dirt ground for the past month. He checked the perimeter of the room carefully, exploring every corner and door.

Rationally, he knew there shouldn’t be any danger hidden away here, but he was too used to making sure his and Patton’s campsite wouldn’t be found by any stray locals. Habits that kept one alive were hard to break.

Eventually the paranoid itch in the back of his mind was satisfied, and he crawled into the bed, which was more of a hollow egg-shape, stuffed full of mounds of soft bedding. It was easily large enough for him, thankfully, and he settled in to sleep.

…

Sleep didn’t come.

Ridiculously enough, it was because he was too comfortable. The room was cool and quiet and dark, with no weather or local insects to worry about hurting Patton, but it was also wide and exposed to anyone who walked past his door. The bedding was soft and smooth, but clean enough that he felt bad for sprawling his dirty body across it.

He wondered vaguely if he could maybe shower, and then dismissed the thought. He didn’t even know what the supplies or facilities were like on this ship, and he really didn’t want to be without his clothes until he was sure one of the others weren’t going to attack him.

After what seemed like hours of tossing and turning, he gave in and dragged a thin blanket along to one of the odd circular storage cabinets in the room. It had a flat bottom, and it was hard and enclosed from any passerby, and that was enough for him. He had to fold his body slightly to fit in it fully, but he’d slept in worse conditions. Much worse.

Within moments, his eyelids drooped, and he was out.

He woke up strapped to a table, which was never a very pleasant way to wake. Above him, aliens in full-body protective suits muttered and babbled clinically in Common that was too complex for him to understand. He couldn’t struggle, stuck in his body looking out as he was stuck with needles and tubes.

At least this time whatever drug they had used to paralyze him was keeping him from feeling the pain.

His vision blurred in and out of focus, mind drifting as he watched bits and pieces of himself be cut away.

Suddenly, all the harvesters seemed to vanish, stepping back out of sight. He wished he could turn his head to see them, make sure they weren’t doing anything without him knowing, but what difference did it make? It wasn’t like he could do anything about it.

The horror of the situation only began to settle in fully when the Machine appeared at his side. His eyes locked onto its glossy surface immediately, his breaths coming quicker and quicker as gloved hands strapped cold bands around his forehead and wrists.

They flipped him over, and even though all he could see was the table, he knew the moment they’d attached the barbed metallic strip to his back, right along his spinal cord. His nerves jumped, feeling jolting through them again, minutes too late.

He had already been dumped in the arena, a room with cold white walls and windows set into the ceiling for harvesters to look down on him and whatever unlucky bastard they threw in with him today.

His gaze was drawn back down to the door lifting on the other side of the chamber. Speak of the devil.

Virgil rolled to his feet, ignoring the ache of his body to prepare himself. Almost all of the aliens they paired him with came out of the door ready to maul him, be it from anger, or drugs, or simple terror. He’d gotten enough scars trying to talk them down, enough to know the futility of it.

When the door rose, however, he knew the face behind it. Patton?

It was as though the past months had never happened, like they were meeting in that cell for the first time again. Patton shook and trembled, scrambling back against the door as it swung shut after him. Virgil felt something in him ache at the sight.

He opened his mouth to reassure him, tried to kneel and reduce the difference in height between them, to look as nonthreatening as possible. Patton, I would never hurt you.

His body was silent. It took a step forward without Virgil’s input. And then another. And then he was suddenly there, inches away from the Ampen, hand reaching out for his throat and Patton let out a desperate wail, the one he’d only heard once, just before their escape—

Virgil jerked awake like he’d been electrocuted by a guard taser, choking on his own spit as he struggled to breathe.

Just a dream. Just a dream.

He tried to concentrate, reaching out with a feather-light (never careless, never harmful) touch for the reassuring, fluffy weight of his friend against him. All he found was air, and his fear levels shot up into panic attack territory. Where was Patton? Patton wasn’t there, Patton was gone, Patton was-

Patton was home. Patton was safely bundled into bed with his real family, the ones that didn’t have violent, horrifying nightmares.

The memories of the past however many hours hit him, then, and his hands fell limp back to his sides. He shouldn’t be feeling this way, he knew, because Patton was safe and happy here, and that was what the Ampen deserved. That was what mattered, not his stupid little hurt feelings over the fact that Patton’s friends definitely hated him. He dragged a hand over his face tiredly, mouth sour with the knowledge that he was a bad friend.

All intent to sleep gone, he attempted to reach for the cabinet door, only to find empty air. He blinked, squinting in the dark, and found it easily enough. He’d apparently kicked out in his nightmare, because his right foot was stuck in the detached cabinet door, driven through the white material like it was cheap plaster. Oops.

This made it considerably more difficult to maneuver his body out of the cabinet, but he managed without driving the splintered door into his ankle too much. Still stung terribly when he pulled it off though, leaving several fresh new scrapes. Hopefully those wouldn’t get infected.

The door to his temporary room was still partially open, thankfully, and he quietly nudged it further to slip out into the hallway. The lights had been dimmed partially, probably to simulate night and keep them on a routine sleep schedule. The smugglers hadn’t bothered with light cycles for his cell, leaving one corner of the room darkened at all times for whenever he got exhausted enough to sleep. It was a nice change.

Aimless beyond an urge to ascertain Patton’s safety, he wandered the ship near-silently, glancing at any open doors he passed and attempting to figure out what the purpose of them was from what little he could see in the rooms. There were helpful labels on some of the doors, but he still didn’t know how to read the written form of Common. Patton had offered to teach him, but there wasn’t much time to waste writing in the dirt while they were on the run.

Still slightly out of it from his nightmare, Virgil almost walked right into one of Roman’s sharp-edged scales before realizing he was there. He froze, breath catching in his lungs as he waited for the bulky alien to notice him there at his side. The alien turned his head slowly, the horns atop it forming a distinct crown silhouette.

Roman’s red eyes were just light enough in color to be picked out from the rest of his face, and Virgil watched in disbelief as they passed over him without a second glance. The alien shuddered slightly, the movement making his scales rattle and shift, and then turned away to tromp back down the hall.

Night vision, Virgil suddenly recalled, thinking about how often he’d had to guide Patton through terrain in the dark. He’d thought it might have just been an Ampen thing, but it looked like Roman’s species didn’t see into shadows too well either. He let out a slow breath, watching as Roman began his circuit anew. He could only assume that the area he was patrolling was where the others were resting. Of course Roman would be up to guard them from the human.

Guess he wouldn’t be able to check on Patton after all.

Suddenly more tired than before, he waited until Roman’s back was turned and then bolted back the way he’d come on silent feet.

Well. It wasn’t like he hadn’t spent sleepless nights alone before now. A few more on a new ship wouldn’t hurt, since he couldn’t imagine it would be long before he was back to sleeping out on hostile planets.

#sanders sides #g/t #giant/tiny #ts virgil #space au #wibar #ts roman #ts logan #ts patton #wibar int: ma #watch it burn and rust #wibar intermission #*winks at you all* surprise!#writing #my writing

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