The unfortunate thing about having hypersensitivity to textures is that there are entire swaths of dog breeds I hate on a purely sensory level

PART 5. THE INHERENT EROTICISM OF BUTTONING SOMEONE’S CLOTHES

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 3.0k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. sexual tension !! and umm sexual frustration ;p, not explicit but prob rated 16+, just read the title of this chapter BAHAHA

A/N. sorry this is coming a little later than planned ! :( but i hope the dressing room scene can make up for it u.u tysm for reading and for all the feedback! enjoy :3 xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

© myherowritings — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, copying, or translating of any kind is not allowed. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.

What were you supposed to wear to a shopping date? you asked yourself. Not that today was a date or anything. Though maybe you sort of wished it were… 

The Naruhata Charity Gala was in a little over a week and Shouto would be coming over to pick you up in less than one hour and you still sat in your room with nothing but a towel on feeling more and more hopeless. 

It was a strange dilemma. He met you in your work apron wearing an unflattering work shirt and work pants. And when you met up over the weekend previously, you never paid too much mind on what you would wear. In fact, you were positive he wouldn’t even care how you looked. So why was it such a big deal to you now? 

Probably because of your recent admission of your growing feelings towards him, you thought crossly. 

In your defense, it wasn’t like it was your fault! Right? Seeing someone everyday… Wanting to see someone everyday… Texting regularly about the most random things, having the most banal objects you saw throughout the day remind you of something Shouto did or said… With all those occurrences it would’ve been practically impossible to not start crushing on him! 

Time passed as you stared at your ceiling blankly. If you kept this up, he was bound to show up in your house and find you half-naked. (Now that you mentioned it, that didn’t sound like the worst idea. But it wasn’t something you’d randomly spring upon someone.)

“Get up, Y/N!” you scolded yourself, rolling off your bed and heading towards your closet. 

In the end, you ended up settling for another variation of your usual go-to outfit and called it a day. It happened to be perfect timing since, by the time you finished getting ready, you got a new message on your phone. 

Shouto: Parked in front of your place

Shouto: Sorry I’m a little early. You can take your time getting ready :)

Y/N: it’s okay i’m ready now!! 

After hitting send, you put your shoes on, gathering your belongings you wanted to bring with you, and headed out the door. Excited to hang out with Shouto again, you walked with a skip in your step down the path until you reached his car. 

“Hi!” You waved through his half-opened, tinted window. To no one’s surprise, his car was a sleek black color with dark, tinted windows, and gold details along the sides. If it didn’t look so oddly sexy you would’ve laughed at how cutely dorky he was for matching his car with his credit card. “This is one hot car.”

He turned his head to the side when you entered the passenger’s seat. “Should I turn the AC higher?” 

“Huh— Oh!” You stifled a giggle when you processed the pun he made. “You’re funny, Shouto.” 

He only looked a little confused. “Thank you.” 

The interior of his car was no less—for lack of better term—sexy than the outside. Leather seats, a large screen for the radio and carplay, and the dashboard and side doors lit up a nice blue color. 

“Pretty!” you complimented, poking at the colorful light.

“Want to pick a color?” 

Your eyes widened. “It can change colors?!” 

Shouto nodded.

“Can it be pink?” you asked intently. 

“Light pink or hot pink?”

“Light.”

He swiftly obliged and with a hit of a touchscreen button, the interior lighting changed from blue to pastel pink. 

“Green!”

It turned green.

“Orange!”

Cue the orange. 

“Purple?” 

Purple. 

Once you were thoroughly satisfied with Shouto showing you the whole color selection (you were almost embarrassed to admit it kept you entertained for a good ten minutes), you settled on a bright turquoise that reminded you of the color of his left eye. 

“Ooh, this color! My favorite,” you said simply, giving him a wide smile. 

A faint blush dusted his cheeks as he developed a sudden interest in adjusting his rearview mirror. “Hm.”

Shouto drove the rest of the way in a comfortable silence, occasionally asking how your week was outside of work and what type of outfit you wanted to wear so he could have a better idea on where to take you. 

“Did you eat?” he suddenly asked when he hit the next stoplight, one hand holding the wheel and the other resting comfortably on the gear shift. 

His hands looked nice and slender and soft to the touch. Pretty hands, you thought but shook yourself out of it because you could go down a rabbit hole of examining his hands and going into detail about them. 

You remembered the single, measly granola bar you had due to your rush getting ready. “I didn’t really eat yet, no. Did you?”

He shook his head and pulled into a food plaza with lots of stores to choose from. The two of you agreed on a noodle restaurant that apparently had some of the best cold soba (once you learned it was his favorite food, you wanted to be able to have some with him and today was the perfect opportunity to do just that) and promptly headed to the location. 

In the shop, a waiter sat the two of you down at a dimly lit booth with the perfect amount of ambience that if someone were to casually look over, they might even mistake this outing as a date. 

You grinned at the thought. 

“Excited for the soba?” asked Shouto, examining the smile on your face thoughtfully. 

That’s not why you were smiling, but it was close enough. “Mhm. And the udon. You can never go wrong with noodles!” 

Yes, you got both udon and soba. But in your defense, where else would the fun in life be if not in sugary sweets and carbs? 

As the two of you waited for your main dishes, you ate some fish cakes and edamame while talking about the ways in which capitalism could be dismantled. Rather sexy of him, if you did say so yourself. 

Before you knew it, you were done with your meal and headed back into his car to go fancy-people shopping. On the remainder of the ride, you asked yourself what color you should pick that would match well with both you and Shouto. After all, nothing said a cute couple who totally liked each other going on a totally real date to a gala like color-coordinated outfits, right?

He parked in front of a street of buildings with a dark glass reaching from ceiling to floor with security guards at the door. Just standing near it made you feel fancy. 

“This is a place my sister told me she liked,” he said, leading you to the store front with his hand on the small of your back to guide you. “I hope you’ll find something to your liking.”

You tried your best not to pay too much attention to the warmth you felt both on your back and your stomach from the fuzzy feelings that spread. 

“Hello, welcome!” the both of you were greeted as you walked through the doors. The interior of the store was lined with designer dresses, some long, some short, and all incredibly stunning. There were only a few other patrons in the store, but all of them looked so elegant as they tried on their dresses. “It’s so lovely to see you again Mr. Todoroki.”

Shouto nodded subtly. “Hello. This is Y/N, my date to the gala who’ll need your assistance today.”

“Hi!” you chimed in at his cue. “Nice to meet you.” 

The worker smiled and made her way over to you. “And you as well. I’m Masuda and I’ll do my best to make sure you leave the store satisfied with your purchase! Did you have a particular style or perhaps color in mind?”

“Umm,” you said sheepishly, looking around the wide variety of clothings and unsure where to start. “I’m not too sure. It’s my first time going to one of these things so maybe something comfortable, but also still...fancy?” You scratched the back of your neck. “Does that even exist?”

“Of course— Just have to find something that feels comfortable to you.” She told you to hold on one moment as she disappear into the rows of fabric. 

As Masuda collected some starter dresses for you to try on, a customer walked by with bags of clothes in her hands, her gaze lingering on Shouto, though neither of you paid her much mind. 

“In this setting, you look almost fit to be a sugar daddy,” you said jokingly, looking around in awe at the sophisticated yet lavish dresses. “You take all your sugar babies here?”

“Only the ones I really like,” he teased back. His voice was deadpan but there was the telltale hints of a smirk on his face to let you know he was only messing with you.

The door chimed to signal that a customer left and by then Masuda had returned with bundles of fabric draped on her arm. She led you away in a hurry and you hesitantly looked back at Shouto who followed in a safe distance. Seeing your moment of panic, he gave you an encouraging smile that somehow was enough to ease a significant fraction of your nerves. This may be new and confusing territory, but at least he was here to help you through it. 

Masuda set a dressing room up for you—it was one of those rooms in the middle of the store with curtains that reached the ceiling and mirrors all around—and placed a bunch of outfits she thought would suit your taste. It reminded you of when a bride would go wedding dress shopping with their family. When you had enough outfits for the first round, she told Shouto to sit down on a leather seat in front of your dressing room while he waited for you to try the different dresses on. 

In a way, it felt oddly intimate: Shouto sitting just a few feet in front of you as you undressed, only separated by the veil of a curtain. Would he offer to help button the back of your dress up, fingers brushing against your bare skin? The thought made you feel almost hot inside as you changed out of your street clothes and into the first dress. 

Unfortunately for you, this dress had no such difficult buttons to reach. 

“How’s it look?” you asked shyly as you emerged from the dressing room. 

The dress was pretty and didn’t feel uncomfortable to walk in, but there wasn’t any sort of attachment you felt towards it. In other words, it was simply...meh. 

Shouto looked up from his phone to take in the sight of you. He smiled. “You look amazing as always.” 

“You think so?” You spun around and curtseyed jokingly and he chuckled. “I don’t think it’s bad, but I’m not sure if it’s the right one.” 

“We’ll be here until you find the right one you want, then. Take your time, Y/N.” 

His voice was normally on the deeper side, but it sounded even more sensual and gravelly at this very moment. You felt goosebumps on your arms and it wasn’t just because of the sleeveless dress you currently had on. 

“T-Thanks, Shouto,” you murmured, turning around and walking back into the changing room to hide the look on your face. You didn’t even know what kind of look you had on your face, but you knew it was one that might give too much away. 

It wasn’t fair that he had to be so sweet and caring and thoughtful and handsome and rich… Most guys you met barely fit into one of those criteria, let alone all five. (Sure, the last two weren’t necessary in your opinion, but you couldn’t deny they were a nice bonus.) It was too bad you had no clue how he felt about you. 

There were moments where he felt flirty and teasing, like maybe he viewed you in a more-than-friends way. But other times he was so polite and proper and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was just being nice because that’s simply the sort of person he was to everyone. 

While you were trying to sort through all your thoughts, you completely forgot to change into a new dress the whole time you were in here. 

You saw a shadow at the floor of the curtain before a voice said, “Y/N? Are you okay in there?” 

Jumping at the sound, you scurried to put the next dress on, a blue one with almost translucent fabric and a delicate neckline. Judging from the proximity of Shouto’s voice and the shadow of his shoes, he was right next to you as you changed. 

“I’m okay!” you managed, hoping you didn’t sound as wobbly as you felt. You held the dress closed at the back, fumbling with the fastens. “I just, ah, needed help buttoning this one up.” 

A light ruffle on the curtain then a pause. “Should I...come in and help?” 

Your eyes widened, not expecting him to actually offer to button it up like you fantasized earlier. You fully thought he might called the worker to aide you just so he wouldn’t risk making you uncomfortable. (Not that he would’ve. At all.) 

“I apologize,” he said somewhat tensely after you didn’t respond. “That was indecent of me—”

“No, no!” you said profusely, poking your head out of the curtain while holding the fabric at the front of your dress to your chest. You tilted your chin to meet his gaze with a determined one of your own. “I’d love your help, Shouto.” 

With a dusting of pink coloring his cheeks, he nodded and entered your dressing room. “This dress is a nice color on you.” His voice was loud against the silence. 

Shouto ran his hand down the length of your spine and then up to unfold the column of buttons on your dress that curved inwards at your movement, his knuckles grazing against your skin like lightning striking water. You jolted at the sudden feeling but he didn’t remove his touch when he felt it.

“Sorry.” His voice was low, almost like a whisper. “Was just getting the buttons out.”

“N-No worries!”

His fingers began working on the bottom-most button at your lower back as he applied a steady pressure on the base of your spine to control the motion. Shouto slowly began his way up, fingertips cold to the touch. But you knew that wasn’t the only reason you felt yourself shiver. As he fastened the dainty buttons with immense concentration (much more concentration than was actually needed to fasten buttons, you were sure), you felt the heat of his breath tickling the back of your neck. You almost couldn’t keep yourself from arching your back in a mixture of anticipation and delight at his constant touch. 

When he finished the last button, Shouto let one hand rest on your hip, grasping the fabric between his fingertips to examine its silken texture. Your breath caught in your throat as you stepped back and bumped into his chest, but he was already there to steady you. 

With his arm on your waist and your back leaning against his chest, you made eye contact through the mirror in front of you. You weren’t sure if the pounding you felt was from your heart or his or a combination of both. 

There was something almost erotic about holding each others’ gaze in the mirror after Shouto just helped you dress, the two of you still not letting the other go despite the task being complete. 

“The dress… You look gorgeous,” he said, not taking his eyes off you for one moment. 

You nodded slowly. It did look amazing on you. And it was breathable and soft. (Plus, Shouto liked it, which made you happier than you’d care to admit.) “The only downside would be I need help getting into it.”

“We could get ready together so it’s no issue.” 

“I’d...also need help getting out of it.” 

You held your breath as his eyes darkened, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly in a way that made you curve your back before you remembered you were flush against Shouto and he could feel even the most subtle of movements coming from your body. But by the time you stopped yourself, it was too late. He already felt it and you wanted more.

His voice was hoarse. “I could help you with that too.”

Instead of beginning to unbutton the dress like part of you thought he would, he surprised you by spinning you around to face him, your shoulder blades pressed against the cool glass of the mirror and your palms lingering on the muscles of his warm chest. The contrast of the cold glass and Shouto’s body heat left a shiver down your spine.

“And how do you plan to help take off my dress when you can’t even see the buttons?” you said challengingly, a smirk on your face despite knowing full well your body was showcasing just how affected you were by this situation. By Shouto.

He tilted his head to the side in response to your daring tone, hands swiftly finding their way to your back and unbuttoning the top five buttons. It wasn’t enough to completely expose your breasts, but it was enough to loosen the fabric at the neckline in a way that made you gasp. 

“Seems doable to me,” he commented. 

You tugged him down slightly by the collar of his shirt. “I don’t quite believe you. Maybe you should prove it.” 

A guttural noise sounded from the back of his throat as he cupped your jaw and leaned in closer. You inched forward, eager to meet his lips. But before they could touch, a knock came from the wall next to the curtain, causing the two of you to freeze in your spots, bodies pressed against each other in an intimate flush.

“Hello, Y/N?” said Masuda cheerfully, blissfully ignorant about what was about to happen in a public dressing room in the middle of the store. “How are the dresses coming along? Did you like any?”

“Ah, actually…” you trailed off, exchanging frustrated but amused glances with Shouto. “I think we’ll take this one.”

a/n: so...mirror sex/sex in a dressing room as a bonus chapter? u.u why yes of course. i’m one step ahead; did u even have to ask? LMAO and hm i wonder if y/n’s fEeLiNGs~ are reciprocated skfkfkdg ALSO THEY WERE SO CLOSE TO KISSING BUT DIDN’T I CRY hopefully the wait will be worth it ;3

what to expect in the next part:

GALA TIMEEEE

yes y/n finally gets the fancy candy they so desired

we get to see shouto’s sexy penthouse

shouto says eat the rich >:c

A Wife for Thor Pt.20

Changes

03/21/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 6,206

Warnings: ANGST up the whazoo! Like seriously, angst. Language, more angst, talks of pregnancy, relationship troubles

A/N: Oof, this one is pretty bad. First of all, I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me. But anyone who knows me and my storytelling, I always ramp up the angst around here. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this chapter to the best of your ability! If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

It’s nearly nightfall when Thor lands on the drive in front of your house.

His honeymoon haven, as he thinks of it often.

There’s hardly any impact from his descent, but what little there is kicks up a puff of dust despite the heavy gravel.

It crunches beneath his feet as he makes his way towards the front door. His boots fall heavy on the aged wood and before he can knock you’re there, pulling the door open.

You’re the most wonderful sight he’s ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on. You’re perfection. Even tired as you look, eyes bloodshot, lips slightly off color, no glow in your cheeks or brightness in your gaze. You’re still the most beautiful creature in all of the universe.

He smiles at you but you stare at him stoically, then step aside to allow Dr. Wilson passage.

“Dr. Wilson,” Thor suddenly remembers sending her to be with you.

He smiles at her and she gives him one in return, albeit small and tight and it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Your Majesty,” she curtsies quickly before turning to you and placing her hand on your arm. “If you need anything, you have my number.”

“Thank you, Dr. Wilson, I’ll use it if I have to. Which something tells me I will.”

“Are you not better yet, cherub?” Thor asks, worry creasing his forehead.

You don’t meet his eyes and he notices the way Dr. Wilson steals a quick glance at him before she gives you a curtsy too then moves around him towards the drive to a shiny silver car.

You step out to the edge of your porch, waving at the Doctor until she’s gone.

As you turn back to him, Thor breathes in deep, almost taking a step towards you to wrap his arms around you and kiss you and quench this thirst for you that has been growing larger and more demanding every day that the two of you have been apart.

Before he can, you point towards the doorway and move past him, “You better come inside. It’s supposed to storm tonight.”

“Storm?” Thor asks incredulously. “Shall I chase it away for us?”

You don’t answer him and instead walk into the kitchen, disappearing from his sight as you move around the counter towards the sink.

Thor hesitates, his heart dropping for the first time since he arrived. At first he merely thought you exhausted from your illness, but now he’s wondering if there might not be something more going on.

Are you angry at him that it took him so long to come and see you?

As he shuts the door then steps towards your coat rack, he hangs his hammer carefully before moving towards the kitchen no longer in uniform but in a plain gray t-shirt and dark blue jeans.

“Are you not well at all yet, cherub? Will you need more time away from home?” he stops by the edge of the island, his hand reaching over to poke at the smooth wooden counter nervously.

The longer you take to answer him, the more he thinks something must be wrong, beyond your falling ill.

There’s no possible way that you might have found out about-It’s almost too unbearable to think of but as you keep your back to him, hands calmly but with purpose filling your kettle with water and dropping tea bags into a pot, his stomach begins to churn.

“Y/N, if something is wrong, I-”

“I’m pregnant, Thor. I’ve known for a week. Since the day in your war room when you were telling Loki that you wanted to get an annulment so that you could marry Jane.”

Thor’s heart stops. Outside the storm grows nearer faster.

Any light left from the setting sun is snuffed out by the black clouds of thunder and rain that Thor’s panic pulls from the atmosphere.

“I was coming to tell you, but you left your door open. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but then you said Jane was pregnant and for a moment I was hoping that maybe she was pregnant with someone else’s baby, but it didn’t sound like that’s what you were thinking so, I listened.

“My mind, at that moment, was a little foggy. You know? It took me a second to really think about what we could do. Because for me, I knew that even with this new hurdle, I wanted to overcome it with you. At your side.”

Thor watches as you step to the stove and light the burner, placing your kettle over it to boil.

His limbs are fuzzy, his mind a hive of buzzing bees and crackling electricity. His heart is still not beating but he can feel it breaking. Every fissure, every tear, he feels it from end to end. His mouth will not open and even if he had something to say, even if he could think enough to say it, you don’t sound finished and he will not interrupt you.

You move to pull two cups out from a cupboard and place one in front of the nearest stool to him, then the other on the island in front of the sink where you’ve been standing. You move the teapot over to the island too, then place both hands on the edge to lean all your weight against it.

Somehow, having you look at him is worse. He can see the heartbreak in your eyes, the betrayal. He can feel the anger surging beneath this calm exterior you’ve pasted on.

He’d rather have you rage at him, throw things at him, than see you keep your composure and think about this rationally. Because what can that mean? Have you given up on him? What does this mood of yours mean for your marriage?

“One of the first things I thought was that we should get Jane a room, or maybe a proper house where she and the baby could live because I could never keep you from your child. Not when they would be the rightful heir to the throne. And even if they weren’t going to be the heir, that baby would be your baby. Your child. So how can I ever keep them from you?

“I wasn’t exactly happy that Jane would be in our lives forever seeing as she is so openly…” you tut, looking up at the light fixture above as you search for the right word. “...not hostile. But she doesn’t like me. I could see it the moment she arrived but you seemed, I don’t know, oblivious of it? I’m not sure if that’s because it’s Jane or not, or if you seriously just didn’t notice?

“Every time we were alone, she always made sure to keep her distance. She never talked to me unless she absolutely had to, but as soon as you'd come into  the room she was all politeness and sociable,” you laugh without humor. “I still have no idea how you didn’t notice.

“It was sad, honestly. It made me sad, a lot. But I kept my mouth shut because you trusted her so wholeheartedly even though I could feel the snake she was. Maybe I shouldn’t be saying this, especially since she’ll be part of our lives now, but-”

“She won’t.”

You stop talking, fixing your piercing gaze upon Thor and all he can do is shake his head in rebuttal of what you just said.

“She won’t be part of our lives,” he continues, explaining himself as quickly as he can.

Now that he’s got a word in, he’s eager to tell you how silly all of this has been. How stupid and unnecessarily taxing the stress was.

“She’s not pregnant,” Thor smiles, and he is glad to see your relief.

It’s brief and subdued, but it’s a small sigh and a relaxing of your shoulders.

After a moment you take several steps back to lean against the sink.

“So we have nothing to worry about,” Thor continues, hoping to latch onto his spark of hope.

He rounds the island with godly dexterity but you take a step back, looking up at him with narrowed eyes.

Your anger is less hidden now, and he can see the outrage in your face.

He stops his pursuit to give you space.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Your demand confuses him. Doesn’t it make you feel better? It makes him feel loads, tons, millions of times better.

“I-” he begins confused.

“You were willing to leave me...to end our marriage, for a baby that hadn’t even been confirmed yet. You think telling me that Jane not being pregnant so now you don't have to erase our marriage as if it never existed is gonna make this better?!”

Thor is speechless, trying desperately to understand the problem, the confusion. Why are you still angry?

“Y-yes, my cherub. No baby, no Jane, no need to figure anything out,” he insists.

“YOU CALL AN ANNULMENT FIGURING SHIT OUT?!”

Thor winces, never having heard you this angry before. You’re livid and that scream is directed directly at him. It takes him a moment to regain some composure but when he does, he sputters to get his story out.

“I-I admit that perhaps the moment of my finding out about Jane was not my finest. I just learned that the once woman I loved was having my child and the scandal that would bring upon my people-”

You scoff and turn away from him, moving back towards the stove as a small stream of steam begins to rise. It’s not hot enough yet though.

Thor doesn’t understand. You know how life works. You’ve been there daily, watching him say and do things that he wouldn’t normally do. He’s being forced just as much as you are to deal with things, only his opportunities are much richer in variation.

“You’re angry with me?” Thor knows this, but something about saying it out loud hits him with a harsh sense of injustice. “What choice would you have had me make?”

You stiffen at his new tone. He can see the shift in your body, and he instantly regrets the momentary anger that boiled his blood.

The way your shoulders slump has his heart beating wildly with new panic. How does he fix this? How can he make this up to you? How can the two of you find some common ground?

“Not this,” you say, quietly.

Thor almost doesn’t hear you but only almost..

“Y/N…” his voice is softer, negotiating in an attempt to calm you.

The placating tone has the opposite effect on you.

“The one thing I asked you to do is to be honest with me. I asked you not to make a fool of me and you did it anyway. You lied to me-”

“I didn’t lie-” Thor begins, but he knows that omitting the truth is almost as good as. His voice trails off.

“Not only did you lie to me but-but when we took our vows, I thought-”

Thor clenches his fists, watching you struggle to overcome some emotion that he can’t see because you’re still facing away from him.

“I feel so stupid,” you gasp, and as your voice hitches, Thor realizes that you’re crying.

He rounds the island but you turn to look at him, throwing your arm out towards him, “No!”

He freezes, breathing labored as his stomach aches. His heart tears again, searing pain ripping at his chest.

It only feels worse as he gets a good look at your face, tears streaming down along your cheeks as despair washes over you.

“Don’t touch me,” you beg of him and Thor can’t believe you mean it.

You can’t mean it.

“The only thing I’ve ever wanted was to have a family of my own,” your words aren’t weak or stuttering now.

Your voice is strong and sure, the week of uncertainty having firmed your resolve.

What have I done?

“When you married me, when you accepted me as part of your house, I thought that I’d finally found that. Not just in you but in Loki and Hilde and Heimdall and the rest of our people. And in three seconds, you took that away from me.

“You abandoned me,” you declare and Thor can’t stay silent anymore.

“No! No, Y/N, I have not abandoned you. I’m here. I’m right here. I came for you. To take you home!”

“BUT YOU THOUGHT ABOUT IT!”

Thor can see the frustration in you, the utter befuddlement you must have felt, the betrayal. There’s disappointment and fear but most of all there’s loss. You’ve lost something this week, and even though he doesn’t know what it is for sure, he can guess.

“You gave the thought a presence and you meant it. You would have left me!”

“No!” Thor protests, an anguished cry of his own sorrow. A refusal of your conclusions.

“That’s what I was coming to tell you today. I woke up with the firm belief that Jane was still with child and as soon as it was confirmed, I was going to come and tell you that even with her carrying my child, you are my Queen.

“Nothing could ever change that and the only life I can imagine living is one with you at my side.”

You’re already shaking your head in protest, already disbelieving him. Thor attempts to step closer but you renew your extended arm.

“No,” you tell him firmly, voice low and quiet with resentment. “I need you to stay away from me.”

“You want me to go?!” Thor asks in pained disbelief.

You keep shaking your head, not answering his question.

The silence in the kitchen is heavy and to Thor, it feels endless.

Too few mornings flash through his mind of you waking beside him to turn and recount your plans for the day, your hopes for your lives together. You’ve always wanted to talk to him. You’ve always wanted to be with him.

His touch has never been unwelcome even in the first days of your courtship.

Your eyes are still flooding over, lips trembling, chest rising and falling with the effort of your crying.

His own body is still. This is the lowest he’s ever felt and he’s not sure what moving will do to him.

The quiet is ripped apart by the slow build up of your kettle’s whistle, but you don’t move to take it off the heat.

“Should I leave, cherub?” Thor asks again, his deep voice weak with emotion at the very idea that you’ll tell him to go.

You reach up to wipe at your cheeks, fingertips sweeping new tears away from the edges of your eyes as more rush to replace them.

You reach over and take hold of your elbow.

You’re thinking about it. You’re actually thinking about whether he should leave.

“No,” you finally whisper, unable to say it any louder he guesses.

It probably goes against every instinct in your body to allow him to stay.

Because he needs something to do, because he can’t stand there and just watch you hate him, he turns around and goes back around the island so that he can go to the stove behind you and move the kettle.

Thor watches you follow him with your eyes as he moves then take a step away from him when he slides behind you to get to the stove.

You move to take your seat at the island and Thor pours the heated water into your teapot.

He places the lid on top, the clink of the ceramic loud in your silence.

Your shaking hands give him worry and he moves towards the small pantry to pull a tin of cookies you’d bought in New York during your honeymoon.

You’d gone on and on about how much you enjoyed them and now that memory feels like a lifetime ago.

A happier one.

He moves around the kitchen taking a large plate and loading it up with your cookies. He grabs the milk from the fridge and pulls the artificial sweetener from the far end of the island to move it closer to you.

He’s aware of your eyes on him still, watching his every move with a gaze to rival Heimdall’s. He doesn’t try to dress his actions up as anything other than what they are; concern.

He places your cup closer to you, fills it with tea, milk, and your sweetener. Once done, he moves back around to his side of the island and takes his seat once more.

~~~~~~~~~~

You’re almost angry enough to be petty. You almost want to take your tea and pour it out. Just to show him how much things aren’t okay.

The way he’d walked in here, brazen and as if he hadn’t attempted to take the only true family you’ve ever known and erase it...you can’t.

More because you need to relax, in fear of the little life growing inside you, you take the tea and take a sip.

Thor knows just how you like it.

He’s watching you, staring. He's full of self-loathing and what you'd once thought was love for you. Concern emanates off of him.

He reaches out, and for a moment you think he might take your hand.

You flinch, pulling both your hands onto your lap, but Thor’s hand only meets the edge of the plate of swedish dream cookies you’d bought on your honeymoon. 

He pushes it towards you, and your heart aches painfully. This agony is unbearable.

Your lip quivers again, unable to contain the sorrow of what your marriage is now facing. You know just as he does that you're at an impasse. Tonight things between you will change.

For the better? For worse?

Thor loves you. You can see that. You saw it the moment he showed up, smiling and so happy to see you that his electric blue eye was beaming.

It was that love that made you so angry. It’s why you shouted when you’d promised yourself that when he came, you wouldn’t raise your voice.

Heimdall had been nice enough to give you warning this morning that Thor would be coming today and that nothing would deter him from seeing you.

You’d been so angry when you’d gotten the call, but you’d talked to Dr. Wilson about staying calm and she'd pointed out that having all of these unresolved feelings would do the baby more harm than good.

While deciding to resolve this today, choosing to stay calm had failed dramatically.

“Please, love, eat something,” Thor begs. "You're shaking. I know you've eaten nothing all day."

How the hell can he tell?! Was Dr. Wilson spying for him?

Even she'd been unable to force more than a few bites of a sandwich into your stomach. You've been dreading this confrontation all day.

Now that it’s here, it's worse than you imagined.

You hate how much hearing the pain in his voice also hurts you. You don’t want to feel any kind of sympathy for him right now. After what he said…

You eat because you’re worried about the baby. Not because Thor is asking.

One cookie is enough to help your queasy stomach feel better, a sip of tea settles your frayed nerves.

You relax a little, the tension in your body partially gone.

Neither you nor Thor say anything for a while and you’re grateful for the silence. You need lots of time to think.

While you think, you eat.

Cookie after cookie as your stomach groans in relief of finally being fed. Not exactly nutritious but it's something.

Despite your body's reaction to the unexpected junk food, the revelation that Jane isn’t pregnant after all is the only thing that you can really focus on.

You'd know she would try something. Not this though. You'd expected a pass at Thor. You'd expected her to try and get him back and you'd been so sure about his feelings for you that you'd been sure nothing would happen.

You hadn't expected her to find a way to reach in and pull it all up by its roots.

Finally, Thor clears his throat. There's and eager shine to his eye now, curiosity needing answers. In this moment you realize that his mind is filled with something else. Something much happier to think about that while it does bring you joy, you can’t share in that joy with Thor yet. Not after everything.

“Is it true?” he asks, the corners of his lips curved and the set of his brow eager. He can't help it. “Are you really pregnant?”

You meet his gaze and reach up to wipe the last of your tears away.

“I’m about three months? A little over. It would have happened during our honeymoon.”

Your explanation brings a smile to his face and he’s so beautiful you find yourself hardening again in defense.

"Your Asgardian blood was making it difficult for my doctors to confirm the pregnancy. The first was negative. The second, inconclusive, but then negative. The third was also inconclusive but this one didn't change to negative so they tried some other things and it finally showed positive.

"They tested my blood over and over. It’s real."

This is what both of you have been wanting since before you were married. You’d wanted to give him an heir and he’d wanted one. You’d wanted to start a family and he’d been desperate for the same.

This is the moment the two of you have been dreaming of and now that it’s here, it’s nothing like you’d pictured.

The joy you’d felt on your trip to the war room to give him the news is lost on you now. Tainted.

“Are-are you not happy?”

“How can you ask me that?” you frown, hostile resentment tainting your features.

He deflates at your tone and you almost regret letting how you feel show so openly.

Almost.

Thor’s face pales and he looks down at the island, his own cup still empty.

Because you do feel bad, though you don’t regret letting him know how angry you are, you get up and pull a beer from the fridge.

Placing it in front of him, you take your seat again.

Thor’s face floods with hope.

"The only reason you're here is because Heimdall knew you'd come. He saw that you were decided and would stop at nothing to come here but if he hadn't given me the warning, you'd be standing outside on the porch banging on the door asking me to let you in. You need to know that.."

Even though the hope in his eyes had made you so angry just a moment ago, as it disappears, you feel a surge of grief.

"I don't understand," Thor begins softly, both hands reaching across the island towards yours wrapped securely around your tea cup. "Why are you so angry, cherub?"

He's not putting it together? Does he seriously not see how what he did is a problem?

"I've told you that Jane is not pregnant so there will be no child and even before I'd found out, I had made my choice to stay with you. These are good things, aren't they?"

The wonder in his voice is real. The agony of his confusion is real.

Somehow you need to make him understand.

You scoff, trying hard not to be cynical after the blow you've taken to your pride.

"Do you remember the day we got married?"

"Vividly," Thor nods and attempts a smile.

A quick stern glare from you settles him down.

"Do you remember welcoming me into your house? Do you have any idea what becoming a member of your family has meant to me?

"I have lived my life alone, Thor. I had no one. From the day my parents died to the moment I agreed to marry you, there was not a single person who I belonged to who also belonged to me.

"Marrying you gave me a home. It gave me people to call my own. It gave me a kingdom full of loving and loyal subjects.

"Marrying you took my loneliness and destroyed it. I had a brothers, sisters, and a husband who I thought loved me as one of his own. I thought you had accepted me as part of your family until the day I died."

You sigh, voice tight and always on the verge of breaking into tears.

"I have, cherub. You are my everything!" Thor’s interruption doesn't phase you this time.

You keep talking as if he'd said nothing.

"And when I've finally done it, when we've finally got what we wanted, you throw me away."

"No!" Thor rises and moves around the island towards you.

This time you don't stop him because nothing he says or does will change your mind. Nothing will fix this.

He sweeps you into his arms, pulling you close so that you have to look up at his face from your spot in your seat. His massive hands caress the sides of your face as his pleasant warmth chases away the horrible nightmares you’ve had all week.

But his arms, his touch, can’t chase away the break in your heart. It can’t fix the pain that feels etched into your veins. Your sinew is rewritten with the agony of his fleeting choice to leave you. Nothing will ever be the same.

“I didn’t throw you away, I was confused. I didn’t know what to do or what the best course of action was. I should have come to you. I should have told you about Jane and I should have consulted with you, my wife, my Queen before making any rash decisions.

“I know that I did wrong, but believe me when I tell you that I love you more than my own life. I can’t imagine my life without you, cherub. I’m sorry that I have caused you such distress. I am sorry that I made you think, even for one second, that I could make my way through this existence without you.

“I love you. And I am never letting you go.”

Your heart is unmoved. Even as he stares down at you with his eye clear and sure. The set of his jaw is firm, and his hands keep stroking your cheeks, temples, and scalp as you watch the fire in him fade.

Slowly, he realizes that the damage is done.

It takes him a long time. His body falls, shoulders slumping, arms not so tight around you, hands a little more gentle. It’s the set of his lips that tells you when he’s accepted it. That he’s broken you and your marriage and there is no repair here.

Not now.

“What will you do?” he asks, hands gliding down along the sides of your neck, shoulders, arms, and elbows where he finally lets go and moves back around the island to take his seat again, throwing himself down in defeat as his hand wraps around his beer.

“I’m still your wife, Thor,” you sigh, turning to look at your cup of tea. “I am still Queen of New Asgard. I’ll do my job as best as I can, from here.”

“Here?” he asks, shocked.

“I can’t go back to the palace. Not right away. I need...I meant it when I said that I needed a break.”

“From me?” Thor guesses, and you can see his heartbreaking.

“From us, yes.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “A few weeks? Months? Years?”

He looks more devastated the longer you speak.

“I don’t know how long it will take me to trust you again. When you told Loki that you’d get an annulment and make me out to be the problem by my not giving you any kids, you took any faith and confidence I had in us and your love for me and flushed it down the toilet.

“I can’t just pretend that didn’t happen. Even though we have nothing to worry about now, I can’t just forget the way I felt. I’m gonna need time.”

The war raging within Thor right now is painful to watch. You can safely assume that he’s almost refusing to go another day without you, much less weeks, months, or years. 

You can also see the regret he’s feeling. The anger. It passes quickly though, and Thor takes another long drink from his beer, draining the bottle before he sets it aside.

He reaches up to wipe at his fuzzy lips, his beard scratchy as he breathes in deeply.

He meets your gaze and nods, “I will give you whatever you need. I will send you a guard. I don’t want you here alone.”

You’re not about to oppose the protection. Not with the baby on the way.

“You should probably make the announcement of the baby. And give some excuse about me staying away. Our people deserve to know. They’ve been waiting too.”

“Mm.” Thor agrees. “What shall I tell the others?”

“Loki already knows. He’s known since I came here.”

“What?!”

“Hey, no!” you frown at him, anger tinging your words. “You can’t be angry at Loki for doing as I asked. I’ve been alone up here waiting to know whether you’re going to leave me or not. He only did what I needed.”

Thor’s anger passes through him in phases. In seconds, he’s calm again, but still breathing through flared nostrils.

“Why did you not tell me? If you’d told me sooner-”

“If I’d told you sooner then I wouldn’t know if you were with me because you love me or because the baby was finally coming. I didn’t want to live the rest of my life never knowing whether your sticking by me in this marriage is because I was finally having our kid. That’s not the kind of life that I want for myself.

“I’m not sorry that I didn’t tell you, Thor. Because even if I can’t trust you, at least I know whether you’d decided not to leave me before you knew I was pregnant.”

Thor’s face is full of sorrow. He’s coming to terms with everything as quickly as he can since you’re not giving him much choice. Are you wrong to put some distance between the two of you?

Should you forgive and forget?

Part of you, the part that loves the man you married, wants to reach out and touch his cheek. You want to tell him that you love him and that nothing will ever change that. You want to celebrate the future you have growing inside you and revel in the fact that Jane’s lie is over and move on with your lives.

The bigger part of you can’t trust his words. Can’t trust his touch. In a few moments, Thor had torn apart the truths of every caress and declaration that he’d made since you got married.

The bigger part of you knows that you can’t trust him. The bigger part of you knows that he could hurt you again. He might very well rip your heart in two for good the next time, and what kind of life can you have like that?

No. As much as your heart loves him, your brain is telling you to play this cautiously from here on out.

“I’ll come to any functions I need to. I’ll make sure I’m there on your arm. But don’t expect things to be the same between us Thor.”

He nods in defeat, “Can I fix this? Is there anything I might do to prove to you that my love is real?”

“It’s not a question of me not believing that you love me,” you explain, sighing lightly as you come to these realizations yourself as Thor makes you face the inevitabilities you’ve been avoiding all week.

You’ve tried hard to keep from pondering the future with or without him. Now that he’s asking, you can’t avoid it anymore.

“I know that you can’t put me before your throne. I know that your people have to come first. I’ve known that since I married you and when I talked to Loki and David about what happened they both told me what I already know.

“You have responsibilities to our people first and foremost and any choices, whether you want to make them or not, are made for them. I can never be first for you. I know that. My mind knows that. It’s honorable that you will always do right by your people.

“But my heart can’t accept that,” you’ve been trying to keep from crying again but as you admit your insecurity aloud, your heart clenches painfully drawing from your eyes a welling of tears. “Because I’ve fallen in love with you completely, Thor. I never knew that loving someone could be this terrifying and painful. Just the thought that you’d decided to make our marriage disappear as if it had never happened ripped me to pieces and I don’t know how to come back from that.”

You sob and Thor leans over the island to take your hand. You don’t pull away this time. You let him give you this small bit of comfort because you need it. Your heart, the fact that he wants to touch you, needs it.

“Even if it was only for a moment, you left me. I want to be first for you. I want to be the only thing that matters. And I can’t be. And I know that. Which makes me feel like such shit because I shouldn’t be asking you for this. I know that you can’t give it to me.

“It’s why Jane told you no. Along with her job, I know that it’s the reason that she couldn’t marry you. She knew that for you, she would always come second to New Asgard.

“I knew that too. When I agreed to marry you, I knew that you’d have to do things for them first. But I love you so much and I-it sucks that I know now if you have to choose between me or your people, you’ll choose your people.

“It’s right. You should. But it fucking sucks and it hurts too much.”

You’re full on crying now and Thor gets up, but you raise your hand to stop him. With a shake of your head he sits back down.

“So…” you sniffle. “What you can do for me is give me the distance I need to work through this. I need to come to terms with the fact that after our baby is born, I’ll be third. I need to just learn and accept that no matter how much you say you love me, you can never choose me.

“Can you give me that? Can you give me space?”

As you meet his gaze, his intense unrelenting stare, you can see him warring with himself. You can see the confusion and the indecision. You can see the agony of what you’re asking of him but somehow he manages to nod.

His own eye waters and after a second nod, his tears spill over to trail across his cheek and lose themselves in his beard.

“I’m sorry, cherub,” he grieves. “I never meant to hurt you like this.”

“I know that, Thor. But I have to find out how much of myself I can invest in our marriage. Because if loving you like this means I have to feel this kind of pain over and over again, I don’t think I can keep loving you. Not like this.”

Your words hurt him and you regret them, but you can’t take them back because they’re truth. You need to guard yourself and you aren’t going to apologize for putting yourself first when no one else in your life will.

The silence is never ending.

The two of you sit sniffling at the island for what feels like hours. Finally, your stomach rumbles loudly and Thor springs up from his seat to the fridge.

He starts pulling out an array of ingredients that you don’t pay too much mind to.

He fills the house with the smells of chicken, paprika, rosemary, lemon, and some other spices you can’t pick out. It makes your stomach growl more loudly and at least with his mind and hands busy making your dinner, he stops crying and that at least gives you a little bit of a break from the horror you’ve been feeling at causing him so much pain with your choice to distance yourself from him.

“Might I stay the night?” he checks, surprising you a bit by the question.

“On the couch,” you whisper, unable to speak any louder.

The idea of him sleeping in the same space but not next to you is unbearable, but somehow you find a way to deal.

His hand stutters over the pan but after a moment he goes back to cooking.

“The couch is fine,” he agrees. “Whatever you need, love.”

And even though his words tell you he’s fine, you know him well enough to recognize the depression in his stoic gaze.

Returning from the Dead is Easier Said than Done...

Request: Welcome, Shiny! May I request an x Reader (can be fem or gender neutral) where Echo (post-citadel) comes up to their s/o's doorstep to give them flowers and ask them on a date? A plus if the Bad Batch teases him for dressing up nicely and buying flowers. Thank you! (@handmaidenthesimp)

Author’s Note: Enjoy! If anybody wants me to repost with a gender-neutral reader, just let me know. 

Story Notes: Some swearing, not much else to warn you about. Take place in-between Season 7 of CW and The Bad Batch. No Omega this time, sorry! 

🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑

Being declared dead was uncomplicated. Your Republic file was branded with a "KIA" stamp, everyone stoically mourned, and someone just a bit shinier would step in to fill your shoes. 

Being declared undead, however, was decidedly more complicated. Oh, Echo was reassigned to Clone Force 99 easily enough. But it was the little things that seemed to get mired in red tape. Getting his few personal effects back. Re-opening his modest credit account.

Approving a rental application.

Admittedly, it wasn't that Echo really needed his own place; clones were conditioned to be accustomed to share minimalist, often-cramped quarters. And they were always on the move, so it hardly made any financial or practical sense, in the long run. 

But right now, oh, did Echo dearly wish that he was dressing up in the privacy of his own space...and not the shared cabin area of the Havoc Marauder. 

He kept his face stoic, as though readying for battle, refusing to acknowledge his teammates goggling in the background. They had returned early from their supply run. Echo had meant to be out of here an hour ago, but (somehow) hadn’t counted on just how difficult it would be to get dressed into multiple clothing pieces with a scomp link for a hand. 

So that’s how his comrades found him: trying to wrangle a neck accessory into submission by sheer will. 

Oh, if Fives could see him now. 

“You look funny,” Wrecker had declared decisively after an unbearably long silence. “What’s that thing you’ve got on?” 

“It’s a suit,” he grumbled, refusing to look any of them in the eye. “I’m going to see Y/N.”

Wrecker gasped like a fishwife. He leaned forward, and pitched his voice low. As though the others couldn’t still hear him in the tinny space.  “Your girlfriend? You mean you’re going to see her for the first time....since…” Wrecker made a muted cartoonish sound with his mouth, clenching then expanding his fingers in a gesture for ‘explosion’.

Echo stared at him for a moment disbelievingly, before nodding slowly, forcing the sarcastic response he really wanted to say back down. He couldn’t fault Wrecker for being...well, Wrecker. He had all the tact of a rampaging bantha. 

“An’ what’s that? Around your neck?” 

Echo opened his mouth, but someone cut across his response. “A bowtie,” Crosshair drolled, though his eyes glittered with amusement. Echo tensed, knowing that he wasn’t going to like what was coming next. 

“Fifty credits says he chokes, and he ends up strangling himself with it in shame." 

“No way!” Wrecker exclaimed, always the optimist. He clapped Echo on the back, who was unprepared so his knees buckled. He felt his metal joints strain. “Don’t worry, Echo,” his brother rasped in the loudest whisper known to man. “I bet she’s gonna love it!” 

“You know,” Tech piped up unhelpfully, “Your strategy may backfire. The current deviation from your usual appearance may be so jarring for your beloved that she refuses your offer out of simple self-preservation instincts.” 

Echo gritted his teeth. “Right. You have stats to back that up, I suppose?” 

Tech blinked at him owlishly. “Of course I don’t. This is an obvious possible outcome.”

“I’m trying to look nice,” he snapped, scowling. 

There was a loaded pause. “...’trying’ being the objective word here,” Crosshair smirked.  

Before Echo could wipe the look off his comrade’s face with a well-placed ARC trooper punch that would’ve made Hardcase proud, Hunter wedged his way in between them, hands up in a conciliatory gesture. 

“All right, laugh it up, fellas. Personally, I think you’re all jealous because you don’t have a girl waiting for you like Echo does.” Hunter turned to face their newest member, took the bowtie that was clenched in Echo’s fist, and smoothed it out before proceeding to tie it around his neck with surprisingly deft hands. 

Crosshair ‘hmphed’ while Wrecker verbally agreed, looking slightly put out by the undeniable truth. Tech simply nodded in neutral confirmation. The group lapsed into a somewhat awkward (but not unwelcome) silence as Hunter finished tugging at the folded ends of the bow, then double-checking to ensure it was straight. He stepped back to assess his work.

“You look good,” he said sincerely.

Echo thought he was in the clear. 

Hunter frowned. “But...it looks like you’re missing something.” 

Or not. 

“Like dignity?” Crosshair drawled from a dark corner of the ship that Echo frustratingly couldn’t glare at. 

“A sense of self-confidence,” Tech suggested. He wasn’t joking. 

“FLOWERS!” Wrecker boomed confidently. “All girls like flowers. You gotta get her some before you see her!”   

“I...fine.” Echo relented, anything to get his teammates to shut up. He shoved his way through them towards the bridge. “I’ll get her some flowers. You all stay here until I get back. I mean it, Fives!” he warned.

An uneasy silence followed him, which he didn’t register until he reached the landing ramp. 

He shot an exasperated look back at them. “What?’ 

“...Your former comrade is not here, Echo.” Tech finally spoke. His words were clinical, as always, but there was a touch of understanding underlying his tone. 

Echo froze, just for a moment, then shook off the shock of his faux pas as best as he could. 

It wasn’t the first time that had happened, after all. 

Echo descended the landing ramp, squared his shoulders, and marched into town. 

Y/N lived in a run-down but culturally distinct district of Coruscant, characterized by food stalls from species and ethnicities all over the galaxy. Children often ran through the streets, sellers in colorful robes and attire shouting their wares and art for all to peruse. It was one of the nicer markets, he thought, having come here once. He had been accompanying Y/N on her usual run for specialized ingredients that made the diner she worked at the talk of the galaxy. 

Echo elbowed his way through the crowded street, content to simply blend in with the crowd, to forget about being a soldier for a moment. 

He paused at a flower stand and was mindful not to draw too much attention to his scomp-link hand as he ordered a dozen sunflowers, which he remembered were Y/N’s favorite. When his credit chip was declined, however, he sighed and reached into his pocket to see what spare change he could muster up. Being that he was wearing a never-worn suit, however, meant that there was no change to be found, and the unimpressed florist snatched the bouquet away. 

That’s okay, Echo. Y/N doesn't need flowers. She just wants to see you.

At least, he hoped that was the case. He hadn’t exactly written to her yet, unsure that he could sufficiently explain his sudden non-death in typed words...

Surprise! I’m not dead! Hey, you know that explosion on the citadel? Well, I survived! And out of it, I got an all-expenses paid trip to  the Techno Union research facility! Why didn’t I write? Well, I was in stasis most of the time and that part’s a bit fuzzy. I also was responsible for killing my brothers by using their own battle plans against them. Oh, and you might notice that I’m missing most of my fleshy bits these days… 

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, which were more rapid these days thanks to his enhancements. He was good at compartmentalizing, though. He had to be. He was still a soldier, through and through, and no one wanted a soldier who was about two seconds away from a mental breakdown.

Yeah, a letter to Y/N wouldn’t have cut it. But he still felt like maybe he could have sent ahead some sort of...heads up? A warning? A ‘Please don’t scream when you see me because I don’t think my heart could take it?’ 

His feet finally guided him to the front entrance of the building where he knew she lived on the 14th floor. Glancing around, he spotted some blue flowers sprouting in a planter near the entrance. He yanked a fairly healthy-looking handful from the soil, shaking the roots to get most of the dirt off. He tucked the strangled roots into his fist so that they would be less obvious. 

It was time. He nodded to himself, squared his shoulders, and entered the building. 

A short elevator ride later, Echo could feed the sweat beading at his forehead and neck. At least his fight or flight response seemed to be healthy and alive, and Echo tuned out everything but the door in front of him, adorned with a purple wreath of lavender flowers. 

He stood in front of the door, and raised his hand to knock. 

He stood…

In front of the door…

...and raised his hand…

...to knock, you coward. Just fucking knock. 

His raised knuckles, however, refused to move. Echo caught a glimpse of himself in the curtained window panes on the sides of the door, and at the sight of his bloodless face, suddenly felt a whole lot less sure of himself. 

He looked ridiculous. 

He and Y/N had barely gotten to know each other before his untimely death. 

What if she was with someone new? 

This was a terrible idea. Echo should leave now, before he caused himself any more embarrassment. Crosshair might get his fifty credits, after all. 

Echo had just convinced himself to turn around and admit defeat, when the door suddenly swung open. 

Two Y/C/E eyes met his. 

There were points during Echo’s battle career where time slowed to a crawl. When an explosive grenade was thrown just a bit too close, or the comrade you had just exchanged banter with received blaster fire to the face. 

Echo was experiencing the same sensation now, but he would voluntarily stay in this moment forever, if he could. He fervently hoped his nightmares would be replaced with the sight that was etched before him. 

She was wearing her yellow work uniform, white apron pressed crisply with starch...and was as beautiful as ever. Her hair was up in a messy ‘late-for-work’ up-do, a smudge of blushed color not quite within the lines of her lips smearing her cupids’ bow where she had applied it in a rush.

He couldn’t determine whether her reaction to his sudden appearance was positive or not, and so didn’t dare speak first, breathlessly afraid that if he did, the moment would shatter. 

He saw her swallow hard, glancing at him from head to toe, gaze landing on his right hand. 

He guarded his heart. 

“Ech? Echo, is that you?” she whispered. Her eyes tore away from the scomp link hand, and began searching his face as though just as afraid he would disappear. 

He nodded. “Yeah,” he rasped, then cleared his throat. “Yeah, it’s me.”

The silence stretched out, and the fight or flight response was creeping back. 

“I know I look a bit different.” He tried for a light-hearted joke, but couldn’t quite get his tone to match. “Had some work done. What do you think?” He winced slightly.

She stepped forward and he froze as Y/N lifted her fingers, hesitating briefly before gently touching one of the metal bolts by his left temple. Her eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“...do they hurt?” 

He gasped a little as he remembered to breathe again.

“No,” he reassured her, raising his undamaged hand to steady hers. “No, it doesn’t hurt.” 

“...good.” 

The wind was knocked out of him as Y/N flung her arms around him, burying her face in his neck, tardiness to her job completely forgotten. 

She began sobbing. It wasn’t neat little sobs, like in the scripted holovids, but heaving sobs that wracked her whole body, and he worried slightly that she was going to faint on him. He forgot about his scomp link for the first time as he rubbed it in circles against her back, murmuring nonsense words of comfort in her ear. 

After several minutes, she sniffled, stepping back. She rubbed her nose ungracefully where snot was leaking out, but Echo could have cared less about any of that. He only kept his arms out to steady her, in case she needed support again.

Y/N glanced down suddenly, and flushed.

“Oh. I’ve crushed them.”

Echo followed her gaze and saw that he was still holding the blue flowers from the planter in his good hand, the bouquet having been caught in between their bodies when she had thrown herself at him. They did look a little worse for wear. 

He shrugged unconcernedly. “They were free,” he said, not wanting her to feel guilty. 

She stared at him for a moment before a bubble of laughter burst from her lips. She still looked like she was about to sob at any moment, but she smiled tremulously at him through shining eyes. 

Desperate to make her feel better, he began rambling. 

“I can get you better ones! N-not right now, though,” he stuttered. “Actually, it turns out that I don’t have any credits on me at the moment. Everything’s still kind of backed up at the bank regarding my accounts. Also, this suit is new. Well. Not new. It used to belong to this woman’s father who we rescued during a mission on Bith. Long story.” His brain, which worked faster than usual these days anyways, still couldn’t seem to catch up to his mouth.

He forced himself to get back to the task at hand. “I was actually here to ask you for a date. I mean, assuming there’s no one else at the moment…oh, but you have your job to go do…bantha spit, I forgot about that...” He would have to ask Tech if it was possible for his brain to actually short-circuit.

Echo finally trailed off. Now he was the one blushing. 

The whole of Domino Squad was probably having a good laugh at his expense right about now, wherever they were. 

But Y/N was still smiling at him. And her chin had stopped wobbling. She gently took the flowers from Echo’s hand and placed them on one of the side tables in the hallway before intertwining her fingers with his and grasping his right hand without hesitation. 

“Forget about my job. Let’s go on that date. My treat. Though, if I know Dexter, he’ll give us a free meal, on the house. And the rest of the day off."

For the first time since he had joined Clone Force 99, since he had been rescued on Skako Minor, and even before the Citadel...Echo allowed a true grin of happiness to spread on his face. 

“A free meal,” he echoed. “Sounds like a plan.” 

REPUTATION|| Min Yoongi

Summary:

You were in the top. There was no person in the world who didn't know your name, either for your success or your reputation, believing that the only thing you should do is smile, be a good girl, don't force your opinions on people, and NOT for any reason deny the dating rumors. But then a gummy smile and a sweet accent came to change all your believe system, from a friends with benefits to falling in love, you encounter a new fear: would he love you despite your reputation

Pairings: Idol!Min Yoongi(SUGA) x singer!reader   

Warnings: distorted body image and unwarranted fear of gaining weight. Unhealthy habits like starvation, underage alcohol consuption. Mild smut and age gap (Yoongi is 25 and reader is 20) but everything is consensual). If i miss something please let me know.

Gorgeous

You should take it as a compliment That I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk You should think about the consequence Of your magnetic field being a little too strong And I got a boyfriend, he's older than us He's in the club doing, I don't know what You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much

You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have Guess I'll just stumble on home to my cats Alone, unless you wanna come along, oh

Anxiety was a familiar feeling, a daily occurrence even before you knew how to call it. The constant fear of making the wrong move, not filling everybody's expectations. But it never gets easier, walking a red carpet was nerve wracking at 20 like it was when you were 13, but expectations were higher, every single album need it to be different, different  sound, different style, you need it to be more mature but not to sexy because then you were to provocative for kids who follow you, but not to demure because then you are a prim. And then, you were too fat, and then too skinny, or you would have the nice flat stomach that people expect but you didn't have the hourglass figure. So everything you stand in an outfit risky enough for you, you would shake like a leaf, praying that the apple and the water that you had eaten would not somehow make you look bloated. That you contour was blended, that the powder under your eyes would not flash in camera. 

You were about to promote your second single of your album, a song who was for a ex manager and ended up seeing as a call out for war for a singer whom you were friends but ended up splitting ways when she started dating an ex boyfriend, an ex boyfriend that you don't actually love but it was still awkward going out with the new girlfriend of your ex. Your team takes it as publicity, even if there was not an actual feud, good or bad, publicity is publicity, and so the music video only seems to spark even more fire. Still you invited all of your friends, friends that you met through other friends, in fashion shows or while performing in lingerie runways, the kind of friends that you partied with in your mansion in Coney Island or the one in Malibu. But that only sends a spark of worry, appearing in a music video with models with perfect bodies only makes you even more insecure about your own, and you were scared about what people would think about it.

A tug in your arm pulled you out of the dazed of the camera's flash and your thoughts, Calum King was a producer, a handsome embodiment of masculinity, a strong build body, a short beard, barely there but enough to let you know that he was a man. He was older than you by a lot, not enough to be scandalous but enough to raise a few eyebrows.

 He smile and you copied and hold his arm to the cameras, the lady assisting the red carpet gesture you to move and once you were out of the sight of the camera you let a shaky breath a pound in the head and the emptiness of your stomach make you feel dizzy and your publicist move quickly, holding a hard candy to you.

“Are you okay?” Calum asks, still holding you, you nod immediately and put the candy in your mouth.

“I´m good, the lights make me feel light headed but nothing that a little bit of sugar does´n fix” you say tasting the candy, feeling a little bit less tired, he nods but his sight was already far away from you. 

“Baby, i´m going to say hello to a few friends, I¨ll see you in our seats, okay?” He doesn't wait for an answer, his manager following behind, you let a sigh of relief, relieved that you don't have to keep pretending anymore, Calum and you met a few months ago while visiting a friend of your to the studio, a paparazzi saw you having coffee and after that you kept seeing each other, he would be your date in events and to the world, you were official, but you didn't even be intimate,barely hold hands while walking in the streets, or kiss each other more than a few pecks when winning a prize, but even that, it felt forced. Your publicist looks away from her phone to look at you and gives you an indifferent look.

“A new korean band is in here, apparently they are very famous and are contending against you for one of the awards, maybe you should go and see them so people see that you support new talents”

Curiosity sparks within you  “Korean band, is it BTS?” you asked, sipping your water you publicist arch an eyebrow

“Yes, did you know them?” she looks rarely interested, you nod reminiscing how  a few weeks ago you had stumbled on a fan edit of you and one of the members titled “1997 golden babies” seeing the dark haired boy dancing and performing with that much passion caught your attention, looking at his name and thus his group, fascinated enough that you had expend a few hour looking at the music videos and some of their performances, a bubble of excitement grew in your stomach making you feel energized again and you started to walk knowing your publicist was going to take you to them, skipping to some people you got to the corner where a group of at least 10 men stand, you immediately felt short and tiny and intimidated but you put your confident face and wait for your publicist to talk with one of the men, who yo assume was their manager, he look surprised and his gazed fall to you where you standing sandwiched between your bodyguards, he nod and went to say something to the remaining men 7 of them wipe their heads instantly to you and you smile, you make the remaining and they scatter in formation, pushing the taller men in front, he gives you a smile and flashed with a set of dimples.

“Hii, is so nice to meet you guys” You break the ice, you scanned every single one of them, from the tall broad shoulder one to Jungkook, the one of the edit and then your eyes fall to one of them, instantly draw for the way he looks at you, like he knew something your eyes goes back to the taller guy as he start to talk.

“It's so incredible to meet, we are big fans of your music” he says, you had heard that a lot but he sound genuine and the rest of the boy nodded, your eyes went back to the guy with the feline eyes and you see something that you had seen before but rarely from another artist, admiration, but also understanding, like he understanded something and he was fascinated by it. 

“Are you performing tonight?” you asked trying to shake the feeling that he was reading you like a book he understands the language. 

“Ummm, no, not tonight, hopefully someday”  he looked a little ashamed but that only made you feel more admiration for them, they are escalating little by little.

“Id watched some of your performance” a chorus of ¨whoas¨ breaks their silence and you smile wider “You would have made us look like kids beside you, you are truly amazing” you compliment, the words flooding with ease, all of them let a ¨thank you¨ and when you meet eyes with the feline eyed boy he gives you the most beautiful and shy gummy smile, something inside you felt warm and fuzzy and you enjoy it so much that you wish it never went away. Your publicist asked for a picture and you stand with them.

The flash was quick, you changed the pose and at the same time you felt a delicate brush of fingers in your back. Tingles run down your spine and your hair stands, how was it possible that a man could make you feel that way without talking, without knowing him? You didn't even know his name, or how he was, he could be an asshole. 

The camera stop flashing and the warm fingers leave your trembling body (you didn't know if it was of starvation or the adrenaline running through your veins) You look at him, the man with the gummy smile, cat-like eyes and the rose petal lips, he bow and you did the same as a reflex, that make him smile fully and the giddy, warm feeling bubble in your stomach all the way up your chest. You broke eye contact and with warm cheeks you went to hug the taller guy hugging all of them (not without almost melting in gummy smile boy, and breathing deeply his mainly citrus smell).

Your entrance was cut out by your manager, who led you backstage and you hope you bump into them, to talk to him, to hear him and let his fingers pay with your skin, but you were immediately trap in the changing room pulling other set of clothes and when you get out your publicist was waiting with a mint and a glass of ice you chew while letting the makeup artist  retouch your makeup.

You had already stood up 5 times to receive an award and Top Social Artist was the last nomination before going to change for your performance. Sitting on the front row with Calum on your side being the perfect supporting boyfriend and with Zendaya on the other side beside her a bunch of other models friends, big names in the industry who appeared in the music video that had already premiered a few awards ago. And although you should've be worried if you would win the category you were already seeing black spots, nausea and heavy eyelids accompanying, and sitting beside with the most beautiful, tallest, slimmest, women of the moment didn't make you feel better, you could barely hear anything but the sound of blood pumping through your ears but after hearing your name and the loud cheers of your fans a smile appear in your clammy face, you wonder if you could even stand to get  the award if you win, a louder cheer broke in the arena and looking to the screen you saw the south korean band announced and when it disappears it took a few seconds for the screams to stop, the announcers opened the envelope, two seconds of silence in the speakers and then...“BTS!” You jump clapping finding strength out of nowhere and with a smile you saw the band walk in front of your eyes with wide eyes, open mouth and smiles, a single hand sticking out for you and knowing who it was you brush his hand with yours. 

Then you turn back and with a bodyguard in front and another in your heels, you walk into the main stage of the arena. 

Everything was blurry, you followed the guard into the hallway and crouched to get in the elevator, holding the mic and letting your head go over the choreography. And when the voice in your in ear says “one”you feel the lift move and stand.You felt like you were going to faint, but still make your moves as smooth as possibly, it felt like forever but when you give the final move and look at the camera you give the most convincing smile ever. Wait for the count to end and the light to ade out to let your body fall to the ground. But the light did not fade, and the camera was still on you. 

The host appeared to your side to announce that your music had already broken a record and that you had won another 2 awards. You accept the award and let the host hug you and unintentionally your body stumbles, your eyes give a turn and feel almost lost conscious.“It's okay” you said to the man and pulled out with a smile, looking to the worried crowd,”It's okay” you repeat in the mic ” I very excited, to be here and to win this awards, thank you to everybody that make this possible, my fans, my family, my team, everybody that listen my music and the art i make, thank you so much, i love you” You said, making well rehearsed words leave your mouth, you leave following the lady with the awards, numb. 

The act seemed innocent and so quickly and random that nobody should have noted, but it set something, pieces clicking in place, for you felt illicit, scandalous, it ignited something that you have never let your body cave in, lust. A sin so impure that only thinking about it makes you flustered, but it only took a couple of glances, some brushes of skin and a hug for you to continue the seduction game he started. And you wanted him to win, to ditch all the circus and let him take you to the hotel, seeing him all in black contrasting with his soft creamy skin, a fallen angel.  

Wanting to feel something, did you deserve the awards? Your music had moved so much from your original goal that  you barely felt it was good. So you didn't feel proud, and you did not feel happy, or sad, or angry. You felt hungry, and tired.

 How dare he be so cool? With the glinting earrings and the necklaces and the deep voice and side smile, a dream, you never thought he was just your type. Was it possible for you to have him? A quick internet research let you know his name, his position on the group and his age, he was a little over five years older than you, younger than your “exes” but so much different, he felt real, a real man, but at the same time he was surreal, to perfect,  to gorgeous. And you wanted to know all about him.

You sit alone in the buffet of your hotel, with other people who also went to the awards, munching on a chicken salad with some delicious sauce and bread sticks and a glass of orange juice. Your orange juice, of course, was spiked with alcohol by your manager, a way to make you last giggly and awake for the rest of the night. Feeling already full with your second plate and with already a certain amount of alcohol in your system, you felt better, enough to keep looking at the table in front of you. Where 7 boy sit holding a camera laughing at one of them knocking the glass with the camera gummy smile boy who had, just like you, been looking at you smile with you and you hold the big stack of tissues at him, he walk to you and brushing fingers he take it from your hands “thanks” he said with a deep voice, one that you had already heard in his music videos but never compared to the real thing.

It took you 30 minutes to shower, dry your hair, put light makeup and a flowy black dress, that fall above your knees, do a quick google research of what to expect at losing your virginity and chugging the mini bottle of wine of your mini fridge, cleaning all of the clothes on the bed and quickly fix it. And when you thought that he wouldn't come a knock was heard. You look for the last time in the mirror and open the door.

 And he was there, his hair now completely straight  and soft looking and his face was bare, no necklace and simple cotton shirt and black cargo pants. Like he couldn't be more gorgeous.  Oh wait, he could, looking at you with the damn smile. “Hi” you said, already losing the game “Hi”, deep voice and cute accent, you can't help but giggle, boozing  alcohol in your veins.

“Please, please come in” You open the door all the way “ I´m y/n, by the way” you said and he looks at you, “I know, I´m Yoongi” he says laughing “I know” you respondHe lifted an eyebrow “you do?” he said with a smug smile, “of course i know, i'm not that  dump to hook up with a guy i don't even know the name of” you widen your eyes and blame the alcohol by your blunt remark, but feel relieved when he laughs. He let you lead the way to the living room and when he sits on the couch he notices the object on the coffee table, an unopened copy of BTS 'latest album you had.

They said goodbye and you broke contact, gulping the last of your orange juice and immediately got replaced, you looked back at your manager and publicist, talking to their manager, using the translator that look flustered, and you knew why, after yourself had talked with your manager about your request, voice confident but cheeks flushed, your manager didn't even had to approach BTS manager before he was already on his way, at that you felt a weird feeling, a territorial frown in your eyes, but you couldn't blame him. Every celebrity you have met has done this.  A simple deal, a way for celebrities to keep their affairs as private and publicly clean, both sides agreed to keep it quiet and not slip ups. When they finally look at you, turn again to him, his manager walking to him, and slipping a black plastic card. A key to the room to one of the suites. Your suite.

“I thought you could signed for me” you explained with a shy tone “I found it on the airport bookstore and since i kinda collect music album i thought it was a nice addition” 

He grabbed it “can i open it?”  he said with the cute accent, you nod excited and he carefully start to unwrap you sit by his side to get a better look, when he finished it, he looks at you

 “it has a photocard” he explains and you giggle again at the way he pronounce the last word, feeling the warm feeling in your stomach and he send your favorite smile at you.He opens the book and stop at the page with the card stuck to it “It's random so is a surprise, go, turn it around” he gesture to the book, you grab it and turn it around,

 “Oww” you let out a disappointed sound when you look at the man that clearly wasn't your Min Yoongi, he laughs and you pout “what can i do if i want one of you?” you ask with a distressed look. He dares to look flustered and he reach to his neck and the his hair, you wanted yours in its place, you licked your lips and look at lis face, “You could buy lots of album until mine come out” hmmm

“That's a good idea” his stare became intense and his eyes darken, his tongue brushed his bottom lip and someone must move forward because your lips replaced his tongue was now kissing his lips. 

Your fingers grab his shirt while his palms was cupping your cheeks, thumb brushing against it, the darkest desires in your mind, the need to be touch to be taken care of,taking his hand in yours you put it on your thigh, where your dress had lift and he complied to your silent request, pushing the fabric up and caressing your skin, but not where you need it him.

 You lean in the couch bringing him with you, but he pull from the kiss, leaving you gasping, “are you sure?” he ask, with his soft, dark eyes, lips swollen and flushed cheeks, you nod, but he shakes his head “are you sure?” he repeats, you think for a second looking at your giddy, boozy brain, “yes, i'm sure” you said with the most confident voice you could muster, he kiss you again and then its your turn to pull away from the kiss ”wait, wait, i,  i haven't, i never have i ever before, i mean, i never had done this before” you confess and he looks at you still panting, he nods, and ask again “are you sure?” and you are.

He didn't let you lay in the couch.

He let you run your fingers through his torso and take his shirt off.

You let him pull down the strips of your dress.

He let you know how much he desires you.

You let him touch for the first time against the wall, making you see stars and blow away in a climax.

He takes to the bed, carrying like you were a leaf.

You let him stole sweet moans out of your mouth

He takes it slowly, touching skin like you were fine china.

You feel like a confident woman when you whisper “you are so gorgeous, I can say anything to your face.”

He lets a deep chuckle and gives a deep thrust making you scream of pleasure.

A mix of sloppy kisses, discreet love bites, nails against skin and pasional hip thrust between the sheets you let yourself think for a second that is not a one time thing, that euphoric feeling you were experimenting and that it was the most happy you had been in years was going to finish the moment he finish panting against your neck.

You tried to not look disappointed when he stood up and walked to the bathroom, closing your eyes, letting yourself feel the remnants of your climax.

He came back a few minutes later, cleaning between your legs and leaving a soft kiss in your thigh before slipping your underwear in its place, holding you in his arms.

You cried for the first time in front of a person. 

He tells you that he knew you were hungry, he had felt it before. Not by his own choice.

You tell him about the empty feeling in your stage while on stage.

He kisses your face while rubbing circles in your back.

  When the morning sun came up you watched his sleeping figure, his back up and belly down, face facing you and his arm around you.

You mindlessly start writing invisible letters, your name. Wishing he could be more than a stranger.

He lets you a note. His number. Breakfast. And a single pink flower and a book from the souvenir store “ The meaning of flowers”

Azalea

 The azalea is the flower that ushers in springtime in the southern United States. That’s one reason it’s so closely associated with beauty and rebirth. 

These blooms are often given as a symbolic message to, “Take care of yourself,” which is an important sentiment to extend to the bereaved.

Little-Known fact:

 Azaleas are celebrated in festivals throughout the world, especially the U.S. and Asia. In Chinese culture, the azalea is known as the “thinking of home bush” and was immortalized in the poetry of a famous poet during the Tang dynasty.

HIIIIIIIIII

SO 

I FINISH THIS CHAPTER

It took years, but my mental health has been bad lately and also was hard to write the first meeting, if it look to rushed, dont worry its kinda the point, they are not in love but definetly know that they felt something. But they dont know each other,  i like to think of them as soulmates. 

We see how she was physically and mentaly hitting rock bottom and her team is not as innocent as it look.

If i was vague about everything, when the managers were talking, they were basically negociating the one night stand, that way the public wouldnt found out. A normal ocurrence in this AU.

Everything you feel courius about, please let me know.

Thank you so much for reading, i love you

Before Rewrite - Hades

*Spoilers for D3 rewrite~!!!! takes place from when Hades gets to the isle to the scene where Mal takes the ember from Hades!*

=

Hades cursed the rulers of Auradon every hour of every day for putting him on this wretched isle of filth and trash. He was a god! The god of the undead, the underworld! He was a crucial player in the mortal's circle of life; without him, there would be no place for souls to go, Thanatos would harvest them but with no one to claim them; they would wander around the lands forever.

He could already sense the disturbed souls, miserably watching their families walk by, or through them. All alone with no one to turn to and nowhere to go.

He had only been here for two weeks and he was already sick of it; he may have never liked it but his job was important and he needed to get back to work

-

Two weeks and four days…that's all it took for the gods to replace him. He didn’t know who it was but they seemed to know what they were doing, claiming souls so fast Hades could hardly sense when one had left the mortal world to live in the underworld.

Hades perked up at the sound of crying

Oh, Hadie.

He turned on his heel and speed over to the makeshift crib of his son, rubbing the top of his fuzzy blue hair and picking him up; gently rocking him as Hadie continued to cry, Hades didn’t know from what but he would try to find out.

-

Like the little god he was, Hadie unexpectedly thrived on the barren isle of the lost; with what little food he got and with little sun, Hadie grew quickly and strong. At four years old he was already growing into his namesake; though Hades couldn’t ever resist being a dad over his little gap tooth in the middle of his teeth.

Hades just wished Persephone could see Hadie grow, and Hades wished he could see his little flower, Melinoe, grow into the headstrong warrior she was meant to be.

-

Whaaaaaaaat the fuck did he do….what in the actual fuck did he DO?!

He had stupidly gotten black out drunk at Gaston’s bar and somehow ended up with Maleficent! Of all people on the isle?! No-not out of all people, just with someone in general!?

He had prided himself in being the most loyal husband of his brothers, Zeus who had slept with a woman every time Hera blinked, and Poseidon; who wasn’t any better.

Hades had always been loyal and true to his wife…well there were those two times BUT compared to his brothers; he was loyal.

AND NOW HE HAD TO GO AND FUCK UP THAT STREAK; over 1000 years, 1000 years! And some bad whiskey had to ruin it.

He left that bed without a word, rushing home to his 4-year-old son who luckily hadn’t woken up yet from his sleep; and Hades swore if nothing came from that mistake, Hadie would never know about it.

-

Welp…that was something that came from the mistake. 11 months after the incident with Maleficent-

-There, right in front of his gates to his underground lair; was a little baby girl, halfheartedly swaddled in a green blanket and set at his gate, a little note taped to the front.

‘your problem now -M’

Hades leaned out of the gates, looking around for any goblins or any sign of the mistress of evil herself. But there was nothing. Hades sighed and crouched down, gently picking up the baby girl and holding him to his chest, her cries quieting as her cheek pressed against the fabric of his shirt.

She opened her eyes, vivid green with sparks of gold and yellow. She laughed, reaching up to his hair with a gummy smile. Hades sighed again and turned on his heel, closing the gate with his foot.

At least he got another chance at raising his daughter, and he would do his best to do as he would’ve with Melinoe.

-

Hadie had asked a billion questions when Hades placed the new baby in Hades old crib, leaning over and peering down at his little sister. Hades had explained it the best way he knew how to a child; but Hadie miraculously understood, didn’t blame him. All he did was reach down towards his sister and grin as the baby took his finger.

“I like her! Are we keeping her?” Hadie had asked, his gap tooth making his little grin seem even bigger.

“she's not a dog Hadie, but yes that’s the plan. I don’t think her mother’s coming back.” Hades rubbed Hadie’s fluffy blue hair and then reached out to rub his daughter's bluish-purple hair gently, her two-month-old hair curling around his fingers.

“What's her name?” Hadie continued to babble off questions, his yellow eyes staring directly into his sister's emerald eyes.

Hades thought for a moment, pursing his lips as he looked at the note and turned it over. Nothing other than Maleficent's writing and initial. Either the fae hadn’t given the baby a name or didn’t care enough to tell him.

“Morana“ the pagan Slavic goddess of winter and death; he had met or once or twice, not enough to know her but the name matched the baby girl before him well enough. (in this world, gods of all religions/beliefs exist in the same universe, they usually keep to themselves and rarely interact.)

Hadie repeated the name, pulling his finger around with Morana still holding onto him. “I like it!”

-

Three months later, Maleficent returned and took Morana from him; not even letting him give her a damn thing to remember him by. “I need an heir, that evil queens been bragging about her little rat and I won't let her get the upper hand with it” Hadie watched from behind Hades legs as the fae walked away with his little sister, her blue-purple hair stark against the black of Maleficent's sleeves.

Morana cried the entire time, reaching out for her father with tears streaming from her sparking yellow-green eyes, her face red with the flurry of confusing emotions she was feeling.

Hades took a step forward, going to take his daughter back but was stopped by Maleficent's goons, all glaring at him.

He was outmatched.

He stepped back, glaring at Maleficent's back as she took back their daughter she had abandoned so heartlessly three months ago.

-

Mal. That was her name now. He had heard many talk about the newly revealed daughter of evil; the daughter of Maleficent. Mal.

Hades clicked his jaw at the thought of her name, Maleficent had been shellfish and named her own daughter right after her; Hades would bet his stash of chocolate that Mal’s full name was just Maleficent.

At least Hades had been original.

-

Throughout the next couple of years, as Mora-Mal. Grew up, Hades kept out an eye on her; just out of sight from her and just barely stepping in if any of the older people of the isle, who had…less than ideal moral compasses, got any ideas about his daughter.

A few times he tried to go up to her, but each time she saw him she either ran away in fear, or stared him down with no spark of familiar want or recognition.

So he kept away, respecting her non-verbal wishes and leaving Mal to herself.

It didn’t stop him from trying to keep her safe. He left her food on the nights Maleficent or her goons forgot, never charged her when she came into his restaurant, was never harsh with her. Some of the other villains got curious at his gentleness with Mal but quickly shut up with a spark of red in his eyes. He might’ve lost his magic but he was still a god.

-

Hades watched from the shadows as Mal and her three ‘friends’ climbed into the limo, the son of Hook and son of Gaston climbing in alongside them. Mal looked up at Maleficent, who did an odd gesture and Mal nodded, sliding in and closing the limo door behind her.

He followed the limo all the way to the bridge, watching his daughter leave the isle for the first time and go to Auradon. If she didn’t end up burning it down; he hoped she would have a good life away from her mother.

-

Over three years later, his son was chosen to go the Auradon by his sister, and Hades watched melancholy as Hadie packed his things; fiddling with the dull ember between his fingers. Hadie hefted his bag over his shoulder and grabbed his duffle bag, nodding at his dad; who stood and walked over to his son “stay safe” Hades muttered, pulling Hadie in for a side hug, his hand resting on the back of Hadie’s head. “say hi to your mother and sister for me?” Hadie nodded against him, using his free arm to squeeze Hades back, and turned on his heel, walking out of the mines.

-

Only an hour later Hades stood at the bridge plaza, ember in hand; pointing it at his daughter, who cried out in pain against the embers draining powers. He pulled back as much as he could, he needed to get out; he just couldn't do it anymore, the isle was hell and he needed to leave.

Mal screamed in pain again and Hades faltered, remembering her cries for him when Maleficent took her oh so long ago. But the girl besides Hook took his falter and rushed at him, slamming him back behind the barrier and walking back through it a moment later.

Hades growled to himself, he had failed his attempted escape and hurt his kid. He stood and walked away from the plaza, planning to stay in his lair for the rest of the week in shame.

-

It was just the next day when he saw his kids again, Hadie and Celia standing in front of him; giving the excuse of a forgotten bass and some delivered goods. But Mal wasn’t as quiet as she should've been, he grabbed her hand just as she grabbed the ember and pulled it from her grip, staring her down behind his sunglasses.

She meekly asked for the ember multiple times, and on the third time, he raised his brow, holding up the ember in the air as he looked down at his daughter “You’re only half Hades, the ember won't do everything for you that it does for me” Mal huffed and gestured to Hadie.

“Hadie’s gonna be the one to use it anyway, I just wanted-to…” Mal looked up at him wide-eyed and shocked, and Hades had a startling realization that Mal might have not known about him at all.

After a few minutes of Mal screeching about her mother’s lies and her not being able to understand how ‘she’ happened, she demanded the ember once more “if you wanna make up for being a lousy dad” ouch that stung, he didn’t mean to be one; he just was forced into that position “gimme the ember”

Hades gave Mal the ember and watched her walk out, sighing sadly as he realized he could’ve been there for Mal a long time ago if not for his stupid assumption. He warned her about the ember getting wet and she just pushed past him, Hadie sharing one last glance with him before following after her.

Hades sighed, collapsing back in his minecart turned chair and leaning his head back. So much for respecting her wishes as a child, she hadn’t even known he existed as her dad.

-end-

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All You Had Ever Dreamed {Fili x Reader}

A.N: So this could have gone in several directions but my brain went this way, so I hope that’s alright! Also, I think I got all the pregnancy stuff right but I’m 15 so I’m sorry if it’s inaccurate. And yes, this was supposed to be short. My bad. But I actually honestly love this fic it may be one of my favorite things I’ve ever written, thank you so much for requesting it!

Requested by @lonikje on Tumblr as part of my 450 Sleepover:

Word Count: 2,019

Pairings: Fili x Reader, mentioned Bilbo x Thorin

Summary: You faint during a training session with Kili and Dwalin.

Warnings: Fluff, mention of Menstruation, Pregnancy

**** All You Had Ever Dreamed

Whirling around, you ducked Kíli’s sword and jumped out of the way of Dwalin’s ax. You struck at Kili, feeling the block he delivered reverberate down your arm, and with one of your daggers locked together with Kili’s sword used the other to deflect another blow from Dwalin. Struggling with both of them, you disengaged and backed up, watching them regroup as you did the same. It was one of the rare days where instead of going too easy on you, Dwalin had decided that you were up for a challenge. 

Eight months after the Battle of the Five Armies, Erebor was thriving. Thorin had been gravely wounded but pulled through, and although Fíli and Kíli’s injuries were less gruesome they were still worrying, but now everyone was back on their feet and healthier than ever. Bilbo had stayed in Erebor, much to the delight of both the company and the men and elves who thought, correctly, that the hobbit would be much easier to negotiate with than the dwarves. You had also noticed some romantic tension between the hobbit and the king but had decided not to bring it up. You stuck to speculating with your husband and his brother. 

That was right. Fíli was your husband, having done a spectacularly over-the-top proposal the second he was back on his feet. You had laughed your head off to see the throne room covered in flowers when you walked in and then started sobbing with joy when you saw your dwarf bent on one knee. And then you were laughing through the tears as, after you accepted, the company appeared from the shadows to give you congratulations and Thorin had had a fancy flower crown entwined in his hair. You suspected Bilbo, and his wink confirmed it. 

You had gotten married three months later, at a ceremony attended by not only almost every dwarf in Erebor but also Kings Bard and Thranduil. It wasn’t every day that the Heir of Erebor got married, after all, and Thorin had spared no expense to make it the best celebration possible. And after the disaster that was Thorin and Bilbo’s wedding, at which Fili and Kili had gotten drunk to liven things up and almost destroyed the cake Bilbo had spent hours working on for his husband, Thorin had taken every precaution to ensure your day went off without a hitch. And somehow it had, the ceremony had taken place outside, in one of Erebor’s few outdoor courtyards. The sun had shone down on the whole gathering, the moon coming out in the night, and you thought there had never been, or ever could be such a perfect day. 

Anyway, you were currently trying not to get eviscerated by the two dwarven warriors (which wasn’t technically possible, given the fact that you were using blunt weapons, but you wouldn’t put it past Dwalin. That dwarf was strong). Twin daggers clutched, you slashed at Kíli before running up the wall and flipping over his head, unsteadily landing behind him with a dagger at his throat.

You let out a breath of satisfaction, but your dagger was suddenly knocked from your hand, Dwalin barreling towards you with his hand still extended from the throw. Leaping out of the way, your breathing grew heavier as you were driven back by the two dwarves, their efforts renewed. Your head started to feel light, sort of fuzzy, and you kept backing up, blocks growing weaker. As everything faded to black and you collapsed, the last thing you heard was Kíli.

“Fíli’s going to kill me.”

You opened your eyes, everything hazy until you blinked it into focus. You were in a large room, sunlight streaming in through the windows to highlight- was that Kíli standing above you?

“Y/N!” Kíli brushed your hair back from your forehead, looking concerned. “You fainted, are you alright?”

“What are you doing here?”

He pouted. “That’s not exactly the wake-up greeting I was expecting. And didn’t you hear what I said? You fainted in the middle of training. I carried you up to Oin, you’re in the healers’ rooms right now.”

Ahh. Well, that explained why the room was so much bigger than yours, and why there were chairs arranged around the bed you were in. 

“Thank you, Kíli. Do you know where Fíli is?”

“I think they sent for him a few minutes ago, you’ve only been out for about ten. He should be here-”

Kíli was cut off by Fíli shoving him away from your bed.

“Y/N!” The golden-haired dwarf exclaimed. “What happened? Are you alright? Why is Kíli here, and why is he touching your face?”

The dark-haired dwarf stood with a smirk. “I’ll just leave you two alone now,” he said and slipped out the door with a smirk.

“Fíli! Don’t be rude! Kíli was taking care of me!” Then realization dawned.

“Is somebody jealous?” You asked with a teasing smile. 

Fíli blushed. 

“Fíli! You shouldn’t be jealous of Kíli! First of all, it’s Kíli. If I fall in love with him, please make sure I haven’t hit my head, he’s basically my little brother. And secondly, I’ll never love anyone but you, you don’t have to worry about that.”

He smiled at you sheepishly. “I know. I was just worried, and-”

“I know,” you cut him off, grinning.

“Ah, look! It’s Oin!” You waved to the healer as he bustled in, arms full of herbs and vials. 

“Ah, Oin. What is wrong with Y/N?” Your husband inquired, the worried look on his face almost comical. 

“Well, it could be several things. Have you been eating enough?” The healer inquired about this while mixing up a tincture.

“Yes.”

“Sleeping regularly?”

Fíli nodded to answer this question. 

“How about water? Have you been drinking enough?”

“Weelllll…” you trailed off sheepishly. “I’m not the best at remembering to drink water.”

“When did you last have a glass today?” The healer was now looking a little worried.

You cast around in your memory. “I had a glass at breakfast, but I haven’t had any more today.”

“WHAT?! YOU HAVEN’T HAD ANYTHING TO DRINK SINCE BREAKFAST?!!! IT’S THE MIDDLE OF THE AFTERNOON!” Fili was furious. Oin was nodding in agreement as well.

“I’m sorry!” You exclaimed. “I’ve just been so busy lately, and I’ve been aching so it’s more trouble than it’s worth to go all the way down to the kitchens.”

“Aching, you say?”

When you nodded, Oin came to your bedside. 

“When was your last monthly bleeding?”

Fili blushed at this, and you swatted him before counting in your head.

OH.

“It’s been almost three months. We’ve been so busy I didn’t even notice!”

“Then that’s it. You fainted not only because of dehydration, which you’ll need to be much better at but also because you’re pregnant.”

“Wait. What?” Fili looked shocked. 

Oin smiled at you, leaving the room.

Fili gazed down at you. “Are you really pregnant?”

You nodded. “I am. I hadn’t noticed the signs before but now that I know it’s blindingly obvious. We’re going to have a baby.” 

He lifted you from the bed, spinning you around in joy before suddenly stopping. 

“That can’t be good for the baby.”

You laughed. “It’s fine, Fili! I’m fine. And we’re going to be parents.”

He smiled, kissing you.

Later that day, you sat with the Company and Thorin’s sister, Dis, now your mother-in-law, in the rooms of the royal family where you all often ate. Sitting at the table, which had been built specifically for the group of sixteen, Fili kept refilling your water glass every thirty seconds. You made sure to drink enough, now that your body was supporting two. Fili glanced at you, and you realized the table had hushed, you hadn’t noticed the sound of Fili’s spoon against his glass gathering everyone’s attention.

He stood, taking your hand and pulling you up to stand next to him. “We have an announcement.”

Everyone was staring at you both expectantly, and Fili nodded at you to continue.

Smiling, you spoke. “I’m pregnant.”

“We’re going to have a baby!” Fili exclaimed. 

The table erupted in cheers and well-wishes. 

“So that’s why you fainted earlier!” 

You silently cursed Kili, knowing that now the overprotective side of the dwarves would emerge full force. And it did, Thorin started listing everything he needed to be done for you before Dis shushed him. The king then walked up to you, arms open, and hugged you.

“Congratulations, Y/N.” 

He then moved on, slapping Fili on the back before stepping back to allow the rest of the company to give their congratulations as well. 

Oin winked at you as he hugged you, and said, “I would never spoil your surprise.” The rest of the group gave out hugs and congratulations to you and Fili, and you glowed with happiness, knowing there were few people better than these for your child to grow up with. Finally, Kili stepped forward. 

“I’m going to have a niece or a nephew! Congratulations, Y/N, you’re going to be a great mother.” He then mock-whispered, “but I’d watch out around Fili. I’m not sure he’ll do as well.” 

Fili punched his brother before grabbing him in another hug, their words whispered too softly for anyone else to hear.

Lastly, Dis came forward, wrapping you in a warm, motherly embrace. “My son is right, Y/N. You will be a wonderful mother. And, if you need any help, don’t hesitate to come to me. Mahal knows I have the experience.”

You thanked her, smiling before she ushered you and Fili out the door. “Now go to bed. It’s late, and you need your rest.” She closed the door behind you, your last glimpse a room of smiling faces.

Back in the rooms that you shared with your husband, you crawled into bed, hair loose, in your favorite nightgown. Fili motioned for you to move closer, so you did, resting your head on his chest as his arm snaked around your shoulders, hand coming to rest on top of yours, where you were unconsciously cradling your belly. He began to sing, a tune that you recognized from the beginning of your quest, so long ago.

“Far over, the Misty Mountains cold,

To dungeons deep, and caverns old.” Fili’s voice wove the song masterfully, and you were taken back to the first time you had met him, almost two years before.

You had stepped into a hobbit-hole of calm, and hearing the sound of voices walked through, careful not to hit your head until you came upon a room of singing dwarves. 

You paused in the doorway, letting their song wash over you. 

“The fire was red, it flaming spread.

The trees like torches blazed with light.”

They finished, and you stepped into the room. All the heads immediately turned towards you. 

“Who are you?” A golden-haired dwarf looked suspicious.

You drew breath to answer, but before you could Gandalf stepped into the room.

“This is Y/N. She will be joining us on our quest.”

The dark-haired dwarf by the fire that looked rather grumpy made as if to protest, but a glare from Gandalf stopped him. The other dwarves quickly introduced themselves, and the golden-haired one stepped up last.

“Y/N, huh?”

You nodded.

“I’m Fili.”

Now, almost two years later, you were in the reclaimed mountain they had sung of, lying in bed with the golden-haired dwarf who had originally been so suspicious of you.

“We’re going to have a baby,” Fili said with a look of wonder, and you smiled at the tears of joy starting to roll down his face. 

“We are.”

You kissed him, so alight with the happiness you thought you could burst, before breaking away and laying your head back on his chest. Laying there, you could hear his heartbeat, beating almost in time with your own. You couldn’t wait until the third would join them. With your husband next to you, and a baby growing inside, you finally had all you had ever dreamed of. And it was perfect.

Everything tag 💞: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @wellofeternalthirst @kumqu4t @katbby16

Yandere Stain/F!Vigilante!Darling: Blessed

Warning: Dubcon/noncon

Word count: 3000+

Commissioned by @adosprincess98 !

Ever since his encounter with other Vigilantes like Knuckleduster and that younger protege of his who’d fought him, and after his enlightening fight with Izuku Midoriya, Stain had started to become more interested in others. He wasn’t very keen on having a partner or even worse, a sidekick, but he felt less disconnected from the society he was trying to clean up. He’d find himself on the lookout in between hunts for false Heroes, curious of what the local Vigilante activity in each region was like. It was during one of these nights that he’d discovered an up-and-coming Vigilante, a young woman dedicated to protecting her neighborhood when the police and Heroes weren’t able to. Apparently she was a beloved local figure by most of the community, and Stain had felt a strange form of connection whenever he watched her fight and rush to save innocents without hesitation. He wondered why she wasn’t a real licensed Hero, given her noble spirit.

Another shadowy figure appeared in the alley and walked towards the woman. Stain noticed a few others hidden from sight behind them, but if the woman saw them as well she kept it to herself. “You got the goods?” She cocked her head towards the man in front of her.

“You mean these ‘study aids’?” The man smirked and took out a ziploc bag from a pocket in his jacket. “I’ve got em...if you’ve got the money.”

The woman hesitated. “I have enough for one pill,” she replied cautiously, gripping the inside of one of her pockets. “But...I heard that you have alternative methods of payment, if someone like me wanted more. Is that true?”

The man narrowed his eyes for a moment. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Relax,” she replied casually. “One of my dormmates has a sister in high school who’s one of your regulars. Akiko? She said that you had a way for certain clients to work off debts.”

The man’s shoulders relaxed a bit. “Oh, Akiko,” he drawled. “Surprised she’d tell her big sis that she’s off hoe-ing it up to pay off a drug debt, but I don’t like getting involved in family shit.” He sized up the woman in her long trench coat. “Let me see what’s under that coat, and I’ll see if you qualify for that special service.” Not waiting for her to comply, he put a hand around her waist and grinned. “College girls like you don’t make as much as younger gals like ‘Kiko, but I’m sure you’ll be good for something.”

Stain peered down from above, unsheathing one of the knives holstered on his left leg to take out this piece of trash before he could harm the young woman. When he saw her quickly draw a taser out from underneath her trenchcoat and violently shove it into the dealer’s stomach, his eyes widened in surprise. She threw off the baggy coat revealing a costume that was clearly homemade and tossed off her hat to show the mask covering her eyes and upper half of her face. “I’m definitely good for kicking your ass, you scumbag,” she snapped, gripping the taser and glaring down at the man. “What kind of lowlife sells drugs to kids and makes them sell their bodies to pay off their debts?”

The man’s associates hiding in the other parts of the alley jumped out to attack her; despite the solid punches, taser shocks, and kicks she managed to throw at her multiple opponents, she was still taken by surprise and clearly on the losing end of this fight. The group’s leader staggered up and slammed her head against a nearby wall. “Fucking wannabe Hero bitch,” he grunted. “You think you can put on a shitty cosplay and suddenly become like All Might or something?” He barked out a laugh and withdrew a knife, and Stain immediately jumped into action. Despite this woman’s serious lack of training or experience, she still had the heart of a true Hero--he wasn’t about to let her life be snuffed out by a group of cockroaches.

The next few minutes were a painful hazy blur for ____ as she slumped against the wall and clutched her ringing head. One moment she was being held by her throat and being pummeled against the wall, and then the next she had somehow wound up out of the drug dealer’s hands. She heard the sounds of metal slicing through clothing and flesh, followed by fearful screams that were quickly cut short and devolved into sickening gurgles. Her vision was fuzzy as she tried to get her bearings, and suddenly she felt herself being hoisted up in someone’s arms. “Wha....Huh?” She blinked blearily up at her potential rescuer. “A Hero…?”

“Not quite.” The stranger moved through the alleyways while carrying her, doing his best to keep her awake by asking her questions: if she felt pain in any specific part of her head, if she’d been stabbed by the dealer, if she knew what the date was...anything to keep her awake. ____ lost track of time, answering in a feeble voice as the ringing in her head kept her from focusing. At some point she realized that the man had taken her into a building and set her down onto a mattress. “Don’t try to get up,” he said firmly. “I’ll get something to ease the pain and properly check if you’ve got a concussion.”

“Okay…” she murmured, too tired and aching to even attempt to get up on her own. She squinted at the figure’s silhouette in the dimly-lit room as he slipped a pill into her mouth, along with some water from a lukewarm plastic bottle. After a few minutes, her pain had subsided considerably and her body felt strangely warm and relaxed despite nearly getting killed earlier.

She heard him walk into another room and tried to look around as best as she could from her spot on the bed. Wherever she was, it was clearly somewhere this guy had been squatting in for a while. It looked like an abandoned apartment complex, and a few sheathed daggers were placed next to a small whetstone on the floor. A long red scarf was on the floor where he’d just stood, with multiple tears and dark stains flecked along the fabric. A nagging feeling prodded the back of her mind as she looked at it, wondering if she’d seen it before. 

The man came back with a small flashlight and shined it into her eyes for a few moments. Once he was satisfied that she wasn’t concussed, he sighed softly with relief and set the flashlight down before placing a hand on her forehead. “I was worried that this would happen to you at some point,” he confessed. “Even with a heart like a genuine Hero, you’re still not experienced enough to know how to deal with multiple opponents surprising you like that.I should have followed my gut instinct and taken you before you got hurt.” He caressed her cheek and gave her an apologetic look. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you properly, but I’ll make sure you’re never in danger like that ever again.”

____ blinked and frowned as she tried to make sense of what he was saying. “Do I know you?” She tried to move her head up to get a better look at him, and he brushed his calloused thumb against her lower lip while cupping her face. ____ felt another rush of warmth and cautiously curled up in the closest thing she had to a defensive posture. “You’re getting kinda...handsy,” she said, slurring her words a bit as the painkillers left her tongue feeling extra heavy. 

Stain froze up for a moment before moving his hand away from her mouth, looking away for a quick moment while he seemed to be holding himself back from saying something. “I’m...sorry,” he replied. “I’ve been watching over you for so long without being this close. It’s strange.”

____ felt her heart race as she slowly put together his words in her fuzzy head. “You’ve been stalking me?” She tried to scoot away from him and stumbled, but he quickly reached out and caught her before her face hit the floor. The way his skin felt against hers left her even more uncomfortably warm. She tried her best to appear intimidating in her current state and glared up at him as her breaths became heavy from the sudden heat in the air around her. “What was in that pill you gave me? And who the hell are you, you fucking stalker piece of--”

The distant lights of a car turning down a street streamed through the dirty windows of the building, and ____’s eyes widened as she recognized the briefly illuminated face of her stalker and rescuer. “Stain? The...you’re the one who’s been killing those Heroes,” she whimpered, starting to shake in his arms. “Why? Why take me, then? I’m not a pro, I swear I’m not. So why follow me?”

Stain felt a slight ache in his chest at the way she’d recoiled in fear upon recognizing him. “I know you’re a Vigilante,” he replied. “Even if you were a professional, I’d never hurt you. You’re noble in how you work, never bowing to bribery or selfishness and always being so hardworking and humble.” He gently rubbed one of the sides of her shoulder as his voice softened. “You’re a true Hero, on All Might’s level in my mind. A very precious and rare treasure, even in a society full of people who claim to be Heroes.”

____ shifted uncomfortably in his arms and awkwardly rested her head against his shoulder; she felt so warm and heavy and tired, even with adrenaline coursing through her body and screaming for her to use every ounce of energy to run away from this obviously dangerous situation. “Um. Thanks,” she mumbled, still slurring her words a bit. She wasn’t sure how to react to a serial killing stalker confessing their admiration to her, but she figured that it was best to try and placate him by being polite. “Is that why you said you wanted to uh, ‘take me’ earlier? Before I got my head smacked around?”

Stain nodded. “You’re too valuable to this world to die in an alley at the hands of them,” he said darkly, wiping a stray bit of drying blood off of his cheek. “Now I know for certain that this is the best place for you.” He reached down and squeezed her hand while holding her closer to him. “Here you’ll be safe, and I’ll try my hardest to make you happy and comfortable.” He glanced at the dingy walls and floor of his hideout. “It’s not the temple you deserve, but I can still protect you here...and worship you.”

____’s eyelids felt heavier and heavier as she felt the Hero Killer lift her up and gently caress her back and lower thighs while he carried her. The way he said “worship” left a sick feeling of dread that made her hair stand on end. “That’s kind, but I don’t need to be worshipped,” she protested. “I’m just a...a friendly neighborhood Vigilante, y’know? I’m not a god or anything, so don’t worry about that.” She tried to stifle a yawn as Stain set her down on a surprisingly comfy futon--though in her exhausted and drugged state, anything would be comfortable and worth sleeping the night off on. 

“You really are humble,” Stain replied with a small smile. He started to remove her shoes and the rest of her costume, and ____ feebly tried to keep him from undressing her body. “I’ll wash your clothes while you get some sleep, and after that I’ll draw a bath for you.” He easily maneuvered around her attempts to cover herself and soon she was completely nude on his bed. She shivered as the cold nighttime air blew over her exposed body, and Stain quickly reached for a thick blanket towards the end of the bed to place over her before grabbing her clothes to tuck under his arm. “I’ll warm up the water for your bath once I’m done washing these,” he said. As ____’s will to stay awake waned and she drifted into a deep sleep, the last thing she felt before losing consciousness was Stain’s lips pressed against her forehead.

____ finally stirred when she felt Stain pick her up and carry her bridal style to the bathroom adjoining his bedroom. The pain in her head had subsided considerably, but her body still ached quite a bit and her mouth felt like dry cotton thanks to the pills he’d given her. It took her a moment to realize that she wasn’t the only one who was naked; Stain’s bare skin pressed against hers as he lowered himself into a large tub while still holding her. “Nghh...What’re you doing?” 

Stain slowly sat her up from behind and reached for a bar of soap lying on the edge of the tub. “Bathing you,” he replied simply. “I wanted to let you rest longer, but I didn’t want to let it cool off completely by the time you woke up.” 

As Stain washed her body and her hair, she glanced at a large bowl on the cracked tile floor that was lying next to a hot plate; filling an entire tub with warm water must have taken hours. She closed her eyes as he rinsed her hair and held his hand up to keep soap away from her face.

The two of them spent the next few minutes without speaking, with only the sound of the water sloshing around in the tub to break the long period of silence. Stain opted to stay and keep ____ in the bath until the water began to run cold, not wanting to let the warm water go to waste. He guided ____’s body and held her as she lay back against him and tried to relax in the arms of her captor. “Is there anything specific you’d like to eat?” Stain’s voice was much softer than ____ thought a serial killer’s would be, and so were his caresses as he stroked her underneath the water. “I’ll bring whatever you want.”

____ shook her head slightly; with everything that had happened in the past 24 hours, food was the least important thing in her mind. “Can’t think of anything,” she replied feebly. “Just...whatever’s convenient, I guess.”

Stain’s slow and gentle movements started to lull her back to sleep as he held her in continued silence, but when she felt his hands wander to her chest and thighs her eyes snapped open. “Wh-what are you doing?” She tried to move away from him, but her body was still heavy and exhausted from overexerting herself last night--and she was still in a faint haze from the painkillers he’d given her.

Stain traced circles around her thigh, causing ripples to form along the water’s surface. He kissed the top of her head as he stroked her from behind. “Worshipping you,” he replied, still sounding so gentle. “You deserve to be cherished, inside and out.”

____ felt her face heat up, and as much as she wished it weren’t true, so was her core as Stain’s hand traveled lower and lower until his calloused fingertips brushed against her entrance. Her nipple pebbled around his other hand, and when he started to circle her clitoris underneath the water with his thumb she let out a small mewl. She hated to admit how nice it felt: the embrace of the warm water around her and Stain’s body against hers, the hazy fog of her arousal and the lingering painkillers still in her system, and those words of reverence he was showering her with as he continued to ‘worship’ her. She didn’t ask for this, but...she couldn’t quite bring herself to protest either.

Stain began to subtly rock his hips against hers, shivering with pleasure when he felt a bit of precum coat his cock and quickly drift away in the rippling water. Every sound that left ____’s lips was like music to his ears, pure and perfect and absolutely addictive. He continued to kiss her neck and stroke her as she began to instinctively grind against his hand to chase the high building within her core. "I would fantasize about this whenever I was watching over you,” he murmured. “Giving you tribute every night after I came home from a hunt.” His teeth grazed against her skin and he felt her entrance twitch underneath his fingers. He continued to circle his thumb around her clit as he slowly slid his finger into her delectably warm cunt, and he groaned softly when he felt her walls twitch around him. “But those dreams are nothing compared to this.” He gently sucked on her neck and then used his long tongue to toy with her earlobe, and she gasped as he played with her sensitive flesh. “The way you taste on my lips, the sounds you’re making while I pleasure you--”

____ felt the head of Stain’s cock burrow slightly in between her cheeks and squealed as it pressed up against her rear. Stain smiled and kissed her collarbone. “Just like that,” he continued. “And you feel so wonderful around me...so divine.” He slipped a second finger into her folds and curled them both inside, rubbing a spot deep within her that pushed her over the edge. As her body tensed and spasmed around his, cumming with her head tilted back and lips parted, Stain finally let himself climax with a sigh of her name. The two of them stared at each other with half-lidded eyes for a moment until Stain moved to finish their bath.

There was a warm glow emanating from her body that made Stain smile once more as he moved to drain the tub and then carefully lift her out to dry her off. Once she was taken care of, he quickly dried himself off and carried her to their bed. Her eyes were already closed by the time he pulled the blanket over her chest. He settled next to her and kissed her forehead as he wrapped his arms around his Beloved, feeling more comfortable and happy than he’d felt in a very long time. He’d been with her for less than one day and he already felt so blessed.

Werewolves Hide Behind the Moon

Request: Yay requests are open again! If it’s not much trouble could I please request gender neutral headcannons for yandere! Werewolf scarabia boys with either a red riding hood or huntsman inspired reader? I love both of these ideas but I can’t choose so I’ll leave that up to you if you don’t mind. You don’t have to answer my request if you don’t like it. Have a happy halloween!

Happy Halloween! I chose one of each. Reposting because I liked this and I want the tags to work!

Warning: yandere, pressing boundaries, manipulation

Kalim Al Asim

You know that as a hunter, it’s your responsibility to protect the people and hunt the dangers of the forest so regular citizens can traverse it freely

Lately, you’ve heard reports of a white wolf getting a little too friendly with humans. It’s never attacked anyone yet but it certainly gave several people quite the fright

So when you meet Kalim, closer to a puppy than a wolf, for the first time you’re conflicted. You told him to stay still, weapon in hand and murder intent clear, yet he just listened obediently. He morphs into a human beastmen then throws a compliment about how cute you look to top it off! Doesn’t he understand what kind of position he’s in?

You’re hesitant to hurt him, because honestly Kalim hasn’t done anything wrong yet. At most, people got an unexpected fright because Kalim is a little too domestic? Can you even have a domestic wolf?

You’ve heard pet dogs have a more ferocious growl than Kalim. Somehow, you’re always chiding Kalim to stay off the road, leave people alone, so they don’t get antsy. Some citizens are questioning why you let the werewolf live, but they haven’t seen the innocence in his gaze, how much he loves it when you scratch behind his ears, and how unbearably friendly he is

Kalim always pouts and says he’s too lonely to stay away, you guess it’s his nature as a pack animal. But the inquiries are becoming less and less gentle and the looks you’re getting aren’t as friendly. How could someone so adorable be getting you in so much trouble?

So you make a little promise. If Kalim doesn’t venture to the main path, he can come visit your house that’s on the outskirts of the village. You don’t have any neighbours so no one can question if they see a fuzzy tail near your house or not

Except Kalim doesn’t visit once a week, maybe once a month, no Kalim visits every day. Is it better than him roaming on the main roads? Yes, but barely. At first he’d sneak in through the back door or patiently wait on your welcome mat. He never means any harm but the one time you had a visitor come over, complaining of bears nearby, you nearly had a heart attack because Kalim was outside your door. You barely scrambled fast enough to kick him back into the forest and for once, you think you actually heard him growl? When you ask, he just says it was a whine because your precious time with him was cut off

You’re seriously considering investing in stronger locks because the amount of time you’ve come home to Kalim just lounging in your house is one too many. You couldn’t believe how proud he was of himself when he explained that this way no one could tell he hung around your house if he was in it!

At this rate, you’ve given up. If you sit on the couch and read a book, Kalim is bound to lay on your legs or stomach and curl up, soothed only by pets.

When you leave, to go out, work, meet with friends, sometimes Kalim will nip at you, nuzzling into your neck while complaining about how it’s not as fun without you. He starts bringing you an assortment of trinkets, some jewels you’re not sure how he got but he always brushes away your questions with remarks about how you must like these gifts so you don’t need to work or visit anyone else! You always decline but somehow Kalim’s hearing doesn’t work when you do

You ask if he has any family or friends and Kalim mentions how you should join his pack and meet them, but you immediately shut down that idea. There’s been talk of another wolf and you need to protect the town.

But the next day when you’re in town to get more information, the wolf has been found dead by the road. Except, if you didn’t kill it, who did? You don’t know who but it makes Kalim more insistent on spending time with you. See, isn’t everything okay? Isn’t it better with him?

Jamil Viper

Everyone warns you how dangerous werewolves are but no one told you how attractive they are! Or how active during the day they were!

You were going to visit your grandma. She could still make short walks around the house but the treck to the village was a bit too much for her. You were walking on the main road you’d traversed a million times, when suddenly a clawed hand latched onto your arm and pulled you behind a bush!

A screech nearly burst from your throat, but another hand muffled any of your screams. “Be quiet for your own sake,” a low voice whispered. When you looked at its owner, you’re surprised to see a handsome werewolf, in beastmen form, with shiny black hair and celestite eyes that are a little too easy to lose yourself in

You follow his eyes and notice a pack of wolves in the middle of the road, blood stained teeth and noses sniffing for their next prey. The werewolf beside you tugs your hand, you’re unsure where but if he saved you from that pack, maybe he’s not all bad?

He takes you on an untread path, passing by unfamiliar trees and fauna you’ve never seen before, but the werewolf doesn’t hesitate for a second. Before you know it, you’re in your Grandma’s backyard. The werewolf lets go of your hand

“Wait! Will they still be there later?” You might need to warn Grandma or stay with her! He stays quiet for a bit but then says, “It’s not safe. You never know when they might come back. I’ll guide you later.”

Before he leaves, to where you don’t know, you discover his name is Jamil. Wait, how did he know where Grandma’s house is?

These walks with Jamil become more and more often. He’s always so nice to you, telling you about how he’s not like other werewolves, he doesn’t want to eat other humans. The running joke between you two is that curry tastes better anyway

And yes, maybe going on little adventures and straying from the path to have lunch with a werewolf isn’t advised, but Jamil is always kind to you. He’s so meticulous, has you at grandma’s place or your own home on time, remembers your favourite flowers, so yeah maybe you have a little crush

Sometimes it feels one-sided though, Jamil never tells you much about himself but also never fails to escort you, so he must care right? He says the hierarchy in werewolf packs are severe so you avoid the sore subject.

Besides it always feel so much better when you bring a smile to his face, whether it’s giving him an extra cookie from the basket or brushing through his hair to undo any tangles

And you can’t help the way your heart flutters when he gifts you a necklace, a chic fabric chocker to be exact, and you make sure to wear it whenever you can

But one time when Jamil says he’s going to be busy, family obligations and all, and you say that you can head to Grandma’s by yourself, his vehement denial makes you stop.

A flurry of reasons spill from his lips, it’s not safe, there’s going to be a hunt soon, and lectures about how you can’t possibly take care of yourself leave you speechless. Yes, maybe you were a little indulgent and dependent on Jamil, but you’ve always kept pace with him and made it to Grandma’s on your own before.

Still, there’s no reason Jamil would lie to you, right? So why does your necklace suddenly feel so much like a collar?

with you, a girl could get bolder (i just wanna be a little bit closer) - part one

PART ONE: can you feel it? (Series Masterlist) Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Rating: Explicit (18+) Featuring: Smut; Angst; Sex Pollen/Aphrodisiacs; Dubious Consent; Loss of Virginity; First Time; Vaginal Sex; Cunnilingus; Creampie; Dirty Talk Words: 5484 Summary: For a single moment there is absolute silence as you and Bucky stare down at the broken glass and the silvery mist rising from it with shocking speed and volume. “Oh, fuck.” You and Bucky get hit with an extremely powerful aphrodisiac, resulting in some mind-blowing (but dubiously consensual) sex on a quinjet. And if sleeping with a coworker in a drug-fueled haze wasn’t bad enough, you’ve also had an unrequited crush on him for months. A/N: My first multi-chapter fic! My first attempt at something resembling a plot! There will be 3 parts, about 15k total. Titles are from Want You In My Room by Carly Rae Jepsen. Part 2 will be out next week!

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“Thanks, Steve,” you say as he sets your bag in one of the quinjet’s storage compartments. Ever the gentleman, he’d insisted on carrying your luggage for you, since he was headed the same way anyway. Just a few minutes ago the jet was bustling with technicians packing away carefully labelled silver briefcases, but now it’s just you, Steve, Bucky, and Bruce. Bucky is headed to Wakanda, summoned by Shuri with the promise of impressive new upgrades for his arm. The briefcases are samples of chemical solutions the Avengers recently confiscated from an enemy base. They’re also headed to Wakanda, to be examined in one of the country’s laboratories even Tony - begrudgingly – has to admit are more advanced than his own. Along the way, Bucky will be dropping you in Zurich to meet up with Pepper. She’s attending a fancy business retreat there and snagged you an invite under the guise of professional development and maintaining the relationship between Stark Industries and the Avengers. As though being married to Iron Man isn’t enough to cement that relationship. Really, she just hates being outnumbered by arrogant, misogynistic billionaires and wants the company. You’re certainly not complaining. A chance to eat ridiculously expensive food and shit talk gross old men in view of the Swiss Alps? Beats running around after the team, keeping track of a thousand conflicting schedules and chasing down late mission reports. You spend another minute or two idly chatting with Steve and Bruce as Bucky makes himself busy at the instrument panel. The jet can basically fly itself, but you suspect Bucky gets a bit of a thrill any time he gets to be in the cockpit, tech nerd that he is. “You sure you have everything?” Steve asks you with a teasing smirk. “It’s a whole two days, you know. Pretty sure that requires at least a dozen books.” “Oh, har-har,” you grumble. “God, you overpack one time and it turns into a whole thing!” “Didn’t you take like four pairs of shoes and two books for a day trip?” Bruce calls as he walks down the ramp, heading back to the lab, you’re sure. “It was three pairs and you can’t always rely on weather forecasts!” you shout after him. Steve jokingly rolls his eyes. “Of course. And the books?” “Two is a perfectly reasonable number of books to bring on a day trip,” you protest primly. “And if I recall correctly, you ended up borrowing one of those books on the way home, so you’re welcome.” “Fair enough,” Steve laughs, holding out his hands in mock concession and turning to say his goodbyes to Bucky, currently bent over the panel, confidently pressing buttons and flicking toggles. It gives you some comfort. You’re a bit of a nervous flier, but Bucky seems to know what he’s doing and the Avengers’ personal jet has to be a lot safer than any commercial plane you’ve ever been on anyway. Though it’s more than just the thought of crashing into the Atlantic ocean that has you on edge. Three hours. That’s approximately how long you’ll be confined with Bucky in a high-tech tin can. Three hours to sit in awkward silence, or worse, awkward conversation if your previous interactions are anything to go by. Chances are you’ll try to make small talk but somehow end up saying something stupid while Bucky just sort of looks at you like he’s wondering how you managed to get this job in the first place. It’s a reasonable question, to be fair, and one you’ve asked yourself at least once every day since you started. Not that you’re a notably skilled conversationalist in general, but around Bucky, you can barely manage to string two coherent sentences together. You can’t help it! You just like him so fucking much and you want him to like you even just a little, so you try to be cool and relaxed and chill. Like Natasha or Sam, the two people who, apart from Steve, he seems to actually be comfortable around. Unfortunately, you are neither cool nor relaxed and you definitely are not chill. No, you are a grab-bag of somewhat less attractive personality traits like excitable and dorky and perpetually-fucking-nervous, all wrapped up in sensible shoes and practical, un-sexy clothing. Basically the anti-Nat, or any person you can imagine Bucky being attracted to. So when you try to converse with him like a normal person you usually end up rambling on like an alien who watched one episode of Gilmore Girls and thought that was how humans really communicated with each other. Not exactly a turn on. Sadly, knowing you have absolutely no chance with him does nothing to stop your feelings. If anything it only makes them stronger somehow. No harm in letting yourself become totally obsessed with the guy since it’s not like you’ll ever tell him how you feel, therefore there’s no chance of rejection! Foolproof! Really though, you don’t know how you could have avoided falling for him anyway, even if you had tried. As a member of the team’s admin staff, you see them basically every day. Relaxing, training, doing press and charity events – everything but actually going on missions. After months of chatting during meetings, discussing schedules and events, and working in the same place they live, you’ve gotten to know them pretty well, you think. And despite Bucky’s taciturn demeanor, the White Wolf seems more like a puppy to you. Sure, his resting expression has a tendency to read as slightly murderous and he's undoubtedly deadly in the field, but there's another side to him too. Bucky is enthralled with all things technological. Whenever there’s a presentation on new tools for the team Bucky is there, bright-eyed and attentive, with thoughtful, clever questions on how it all works, and he’s not shy about making suggestions either. He shamelessly enjoys all things soft and cozy – fuzzy blankets, knit sweaters, his cat. Alpine was a stray Bucky found wandering the grounds of the compound. Now she wanders the residential wing instead, usually wherever Bucky is. He could be bitter and angry and cruel after everything he’s been through – and God knows he’d have every right – but he’s not. He has his bad days, of course. Days at a time where you hardly see him except for mandatory meetings or training, and then with dark shadows under his eyes and a heavy blankness that seems etched into his face. But most of the time it’s clear he wants to be part of the world. With his never-ending curiosity about all the things he missed, or never had the freedom to enjoy. With his dark, wry humor and the fond way he can’t help but look at Steve whenever he says something that must remind him of before the war. With the way he tries so goddamn hard to put some good back into the world, to make up for things that weren’t even his fault. You truly don’t understand how anyone could know him and not love him. You certainly never stood a chance. “See you, pal. Text me when you land.” Steve’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you realize you’ve been staring into nothing for longer than you realized. “Say hi to Pepper for me!” he calls to you as he leaves. And with that, it’s just you and Bucky. For the next three hours. +++ The awkward silence – apart from a quiet, “You ready?” from Bucky just before take-off – lasts all of ten minutes. That’s as long as you can go before the pressure to say something becomes irresistible. Being bad at talking to Bucky has never kept you from trying, unfortunately. “You excited to go back to Wakanda?” you ask. Bucky nods. “Yeah. It’ll be nice to see Shuri again.” He says it with a soft smile and you know he means it. He clearly has a deep affection and respect for her. “I bet. She seems ridiculously cool. Honestly, I wanna be her when I grow up,” you joke, then immediately cringe. I wanna be her when I grow up? Come on! Bucky laughs politely and the jet is once again silent. Bucky seems content to just sit with his thoughts, but the jet’s at cruising altitude now so you take the opportunity to get out of your seat and grab one of the only two books from your bag. Can’t say anything stupid if you’re too busy reading! Check and mate, Rogers. You’re elbow deep in toiletries and underwear, having decided blindly digging around would be preferable to actually taking the bag down and fully unzipping it, when you decide to try speaking again.   “So do you know what upgrades you’re getting? You know, for –” you gesture at your left arm, or try to, except you use the arm currently being eaten by your suitcase at the exact moment the jet hits a patch of turbulence, jostling you and your luggage. Bucky jumps up, darting over to steady you with a hand on your back. As a part of your mind becomes consumed with thoughts of, holy shit he’s touching me, you manage to wrench your arm out of your suitcase, sending it to knock against the silver briefcase next to it. The impact shifts the briefcase slightly. The next bump of the jet a moment later has it falling out of the storage unit entirely. The silver briefcases used by the Avengers to transport dangerous or delicate materials are very cleverly designed so that – properly clasped – they could be used as a football for an NFL game with no ill-effects. Which is how you know this case has very clearly not been properly clasped because as it falls it springs open, and a small vial of clear liquid hits the floor. And shatters. For a single moment there is absolute silence as you and Bucky stare down at the broken glass and the thin, silvery mist rising from it with shocking speed and volume, filling the space around your bodies. “Oh, fuck,” you breathe. Bucky snaps into action, grabbing you by the arm and tugging you toward the sleeping compartments in the back of the jet, calling for FRIDAY along the way. “Get us back to the compound now,” he orders. “And get Stark or Banner on the line.” He shoves you inside the nearest cabin, following and sliding the door shut behind him. Immediately he’s gripping you by the shoulders and turning you to face him. “Did any of it get on you? On your clothes?” he asks urgently, eyes scanning your body. “No! I mean, not the liquid, I don’t think. But what about that mist or vapour or whatever? What if we breathed it in?” You have no idea what was in that vial. “Oh God, we’re gonna die,” you moan, anxiously pacing the tiny room. “Or I am, anyway. You’ll probably be fine. Fuck. Oh my God. What if it’s like, some flesh-eating poison? Am I gonna turn into the Hulk?” Your heart races and you feel hot. You can’t tell if it’s just fear or something worse but whatever it is must show on your face because Bucky gently guides you to sit on the narrow bed as the call finally connects. “Hey, Bucky, what’s up?” It’s Bruce, thank God. You’re not sure you could handle even the briefest and most well-meaning witticism from Tony right now. Bucky very quickly briefs Bruce on the situation, finishing with, “Any idea what the fuck was in that case?” You can hear the anxiety in Bruce’s voice. “Shit, I don’t know. Not unless you have the label. And we didn’t really examine them, just packed them up.” “Fucking great!” you can’t help but interject, throwing your hands in the air and receiving a concerned look from Bucky in return “But listen, guys. You’re on your way back to the compound – FRIDAY says 30 minutes tops. I’ll have medical and biochem ready as soon as you touch down. And it’s already been what? Like five minutes? If nothing’s happened yet, you’re probably fine? Just sit tight and don’t leave the cabin. The doors seal airtight so nothing can get through.” And with that, Bruce hangs up to get everything ready for your return, leaving you and Bucky at opposite ends of an very small space. You’ve never been claustrophobic before but you must be developing the fear because the walls feel like they’re closing in and your heart feels like it’s about to beat its way out of your chest. “Okay, wow. Great. ‘Sit tight.’ That’s awesome, just awesome.” You look around the room, empty except for the bunk you’re sitting on. “What are we supposed to do now? Play twenty fucking questions?” Your relaxing weekend abroad has disappeared and apparently taken your brain-to-mouth filter with it. Between that, your racing heart, and the increasing heat spreading through your body you’re not entirely sure that you’re probably fine, but you’re chalking it up to anxiety because it’s not like there’s anything you can do about it anyway. Except sit tight. Looking up at Bucky you can see his cheeks have taken on a pink flush, but again, that’s probably just stress. Or maybe annoyance at having to be trapped in a tiny room with you and your panicked blathering for the next half hour. Sighing, he sinks to the floor, resting his back against the door and stretching out his legs in front of him. “Nothin’ to do but wait, doll.” Your eyes flash to his. Doll. He’s never called you that before. He’s never really called you anything before. Bucky seems to have noticed it too because he furrows his brows, looking like he’s just as surprised as you are. There’s a brief moment of eye contact before you both quickly look away, choosing not to address it. Probably just a habit, you think. A remnant of the Bucky that existed long before you were born, jumping out in a moment of stress. A heavy silence falls, leaving you both to your own thoughts. You try to focus on breathing, on staying calm, but your mind keeps straying and it feels like there’s too much energy in your body. Your skin practically itches with it and you squirm, unable to get comfortable but not sure exactly why. You can hear Bucky tapping his foot on the floor, the sound of him shifting around. You wonder if he feels it too. Bucky… Doll. The way it had fallen out of his mouth so casually, so easily. As though he’d said it to you a hundred times. You feel a spark bubble up inside you picturing Bucky’s flushed cheeks and that word. You imagine him saying it breathlessly, reverently, just before his lips touch yours. Or growling it out as he moves inside you… Fuck, doll, just like that. You nearly let out a whimper and you feel a rush of slick in your panties, shocking you out of your fantasy as you become uncomfortably aware of just how wet you are. That spreading heat flares even more than before and you realize you must have been dripping into your underwear for longer than just the last few seconds. There’s a deep throb of arousal in your core, stronger than anything you’ve felt before, like that unbearable energy under your skin has been pulled to settle deep inside you. It’s confusing – far too powerful to be the result of a vague, half-imagined fantasy. But even as you wonder at what’s happening, it’s like a fog settles over you, the confusion half-hearted, nothing compared to the growing urge to touch, to quell the burning fire inside you. Before you can even consciously register the movement, your hand is making its way to your pussy. Any shock or embarrassment at your wildly inappropriate behaviour is slow to appear and dulled when it does. Snatching your hand back just as it nears the apex of your thighs is like walking through deep water, like you have to convince yourself why you shouldn’t get off in front of a co-worker. Your eyes flash to Bucky, wondering if he’s seen, if he’s affected the same way you are, only to find his gaze already fixed on you, blue eyes blown nearly black. His fists are clenched at his sides and his lips are bitten red and spit-slick. He breathes in deep, nostrils flaring, and you realize he can smell you. It should be humiliating. You should be turning away in humiliation, but instead, you feel yourself get – somehow, impossibly – wetter and this time you can’t contain the helpless whimper when Bucky groans and licks his lips in response. It’s as if with that sound the floodgates have opened because in an instant you’re slipping off the bed and throwing yourself at him, desperate to be closer, as close as physically possible. You scramble on top of him, graceless and frantic, straddling his thighs and wrapping your arms around his neck. Bucky’s hands grip your ass, pulling you closer and grinding you down on his cock, pressing hard and hot against you even through your clothes. There’s a moment – a tiny fraction of a second – where you catch each other’s eyes. A pause, where you think you see something, some emotion on Bucky's face, but you don't have time to decipher it before he���s surging up to press his lips against yours and a bomb is set off inside you. You have no idea what you’re doing – your experiences up to now have been limited to a handful of lackluster kisses with people not worth remembering – but Bucky doesn’t seem to notice or mind. He holds your face firmly in his hands, turning your head to suit him as he licks into your mouth and you do your best to mimic his actions, clumsy in your mindless passion. He takes your bottom lip between his teeth and you gasp, rocking your hips against his, trying to get some friction on your throbbing clit. He thrusts up against you and you move together but it’s not enough. It’s clear whatever was in that vial has created a thirst in you that won’t be quenched by a heated make-out session and you pull away from Bucky's mouth, moaning as he tilts your head back to kiss your neck, licking and sucking at the tender skin. “More,” you gasp. “I need more.” You feel him nod against your throat and with one last, deep kiss to your lips Bucky grips you by the hips and lifts you off him, shifting to rest his weight on his heels before reaching to push your dress up over your waist. Almost all of your higher brain function is devoted to being as close to Bucky as possible but far in the back of your mind, there’s a small part of you that’s simply shocked at what’s happening, at the sensations coursing through your body. You have never felt this uninhibited in your entire life. You were a shy, anxious child who grew into a somewhat less shy, anxious adult, easily embarrassed and prone to overthinking. But now, with that silvery mist working its way through your system, you’ve never felt so shameless. Bucky is feverishly slipping off your shoes and tugging down your tights and you’re not thinking about how you haven’t shaved your legs in weeks or how you’re wearing an old pair of plain cotton panties or any of the dozens of worries that would be running through your head under normal circumstances. (Not that Bucky would be undressing you at all, under normal circumstances.) No. Instead of overthinking and paralyzing yourself with fear, you’re pulling your dress over your head and reaching back to unclasp your bra so you can get your own hands on your breasts. You could almost just sit and bask in this unfamiliar feeling of freedom if it weren’t for the hot ache in your core that threatens to burn you alive with every moment you go untouched. As soon as your tights have been pulled off and tossed aside, Bucky is shouldering your legs apart and leaning forward to press his nose against the wet patch on your panties, breathing deep. “Fuck, doll. I need to taste you.” You whimper as his tongue darts out to lick a wide stripe up the length of your covered cunt. His hands move to your hips and in an instant, your panties are torn from your body and his mouth is on your bare skin for the first time. You can’t help but gasp as he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your folds. His tongue licks up your opening and circles your clit before moving back down and slipping inside you, drinking up your slick. Bucky growls against your pussy. “So fucking good.” His tongue moves back to your clit and he laps at it in short, teasing flicks. You begin to buck helplessly and Bucky’s metal arm brackets your hips, holding you still for his mouth. He switches to deep, firm circles over your clit, alternating with wide laps over the whole of your cunt. You’re losing your mind, flat on your back with your legs thrown over Bucky’s shoulders, heels pressing into his back. You’ve never felt anything like this. You haven’t even come yet but it’s already more intense than any orgasm you’ve ever given yourself. You feel two fingers against your opening and you fight Bucky’s grip over your hipbones, trying to grind yourself down onto him. He chuckles at your efforts and presses just the tips of his fingers inside you. “So needy, huh? Just wanna be filled up, don’t you?” You have no idea how he’s able to tease right now when you're ready to fall to your knees and plead just for the chance at an orgasm. You whine, trying again to slide down onto his fingers but his metal arm keeps you from moving a single inch and you toss your head back with a wail. “Please, Bucky,” you sob. “I need it, I need you. Please.” You feel no embarrassment at your begging. The fire inside you is growing hotter and hotter. You need him. You need to be filled, fucked. You feel like you’ll die if he doesn’t fuck you now. The teasing tone drops out of Bucky’s voice and he presses messy kisses to your inner thighs. “I know, I know. I feel it too. Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m gonna fill you up so good. Stuff you full. Gonna make you feel so good, make it better.” His fingers finally slip into you, sliding easily through your wetness. He starts thrusting and his tongue circles your clit again as his fingers curl. He focuses on your g-spot, stroking roughly as he pulls your clit into his mouth and sucks. You’re coming in seconds with a series of breathy moans, thighs clamped tightly around Bucky’s head. He doesn’t let up, only pulling away when you tug at his hair, the sensations too much. He kisses you, sliding his tongue against yours and you can taste yourself in his mouth. It reignites the fire your orgasm had dulled slightly and you pull away, about to plead for more, but it seems Bucky has finally reached his limit. His hands work at his belt and he shoves his jeans and briefs down just enough to free his cock. You’ve never really seen one in person before and maybe under different circumstances you’d take a moment to get familiar, but right now all you can do is spread your legs and beg. Bucky quickly positions himself above you, lining his cock up with your entrance. He drags the head along your pussy a couple times, groaning as he slicks himself up and begins to push into you. He’s bigger than anything you’ve ever had inside you hardly notice the sting. It’s nothing compared to the raging chorus inside you chanting more, more, more. In one single, hurried thrust he’s fully inside, your bodies pressed flush together. Bucky moans. “So fucking tight, fuck. You feel so goddamn good, doll,” he pants above you, leaning down for a filthy kiss, wet and open. “Fucking move, please,” you beg, hooking your legs around him and digging in your heels. Bucky growls into your mouth and pulls out almost entirely before thrusting back inside hard, pulling a sound from deep in your throat. He repeats the move a handful of times before settling into a harsh, pounding rhythm with his face buried in your neck. You cling to his back, senseless, unable to focus on anything but how good you feel. Your brain feels fuzzy and empty and every thrust drags his cock along your g-spot and it’s too much, too good. You’re a gasping, panting mess. It’s not long before his hips start to stutter, his rhythm breaking as he moans out above you. Your hand slides down your body to your clit and you rub firm circles around it. A few swipes and you’re coming, harder than you ever have in your life, with a high, keening moan. The tight squeezes of your cunt have Bucky coming too and you feel a warmth release inside you as he collapses against your chest. Neither of you moves for a long moment, your heavy, mingled breaths the only sound in the room. There’s still some lingering fog as you soak in the afterglow of your drug-intensified orgasm, but it seems like the chemical has run its course and clarity is quickly returning to you. The silence is broken by FRIDAY announcing your approach to one of the landing pads, and you feel the jet begin its descent a moment later. Her voice hits you like a slap in the face, a stark reminder of what’s really happening here, what you’ve just done. It seems Bucky feels the same, because he leans back just enough to look you in the eyes and a long moment of horrified recognition passes between you. Your breathing picks up again as panic surges through you. You start to squirm under his weight but he’s already moving. You wince as he pulls out of you, suddenly aware of a deep soreness between your legs. In seconds, Bucky has tucked himself back into his jeans, and he storms out of the cabin without a backward glance. So eager to get away from you he doesn’t seem to care that he might be walking directly into a toxic cloud. Like anything would be better than being trapped with you for another moment. You lay there on the floor, naked and shivering, with Bucky’s cum starting to leak out of you as you struggle to take a breath, all the anxiety and uncertainty the drug had masked flooding back to you at once. You force yourself to sit up and pull your clothes back on, cringing as you feel the mess between your legs seep into your tights. You hastily stuff your ruined panties in your pocket. You take a few deep breaths and try to still your shaking hands as you hear footsteps approaching the cabin. You’re given a respirator and guided off the jet into a throng of people awaiting your arrival, Bucky nowhere to be seen. White-coated staff swarm you and lead you inside. +++ You wish you could say the next several hours are a blur, but they are, unfortunately, exceptionally, horrifically clear. You’re taken through a decontamination shower, though you’re really not sure how much good it could do at this point, then poked and prodded with needles and swabs while having the most mortifying conversation of your life. You feel nearly choked with a shocking, burning shame. This morning you woke up nervous and excited for a weekend away, and now you’re telling a handful of strangers how you just had sex for the first time in an uncontrollable, frenzied state of lust with one of the Avengers. And as though it couldn’t be worse, it’s made all the more humiliating by the lingering throb of arousal thrumming through you the entire time. It seems whatever this drug is, the two orgasms you’ve already had weren’t enough to neutralize it, though at least you have enough self-control now to keep from shoving your hand down your pants in front of everyone in the room. Finally, after what seems like hours and unfortunately really is hours, you’re told to go home and rest. You’ve been given an emergency contraceptive, a pamphlet for the Employee Assistance Program, a number to call if you feel any strange symptoms, and told that someone will follow up with you in the next day or so. You feel numb as you enter your apartment, tugging off your med-bay issued scrubs on the way to the bathroom. You get yourself off in the shower, and though it’s the most joyless orgasm of your life, it seems to finally clear any lingering arousal from your system. Wincing at the tenderness between your legs, you scrub yourself clean under the hot spray, half wishing you could dissolve into a puddle and wash away down the drain with the soapy water. You’re getting ready for bed when your thoughts take a sudden turn to Bucky for the first time in hours. You’d been so overwhelmed by all the tests and questions, so cocooned in your own embarrassment you’d practically forgotten about him. Guilt rushes through you at your own selfish thoughtlessness. Feeling so sorry for yourself like you were the only victim. Like you were the victim at all. You’ve had a crush on Bucky for months, have spent more time than you’d like to admit imagining being with him in ways both innocent and obscene. But he’s never looked twice at you, barely speaks to you except for unavoidable work discussions. Not that you expect anything different. Someone like him would never want to be with you anywhere outside your daydreams. Except now he has been with you. Forced against his will to take part in some horrific act, because surely that’s how Bucky must see it, now the fog of uncontrollable lust has cleared. You had sex for the first time in decidedly unwanted conditions, but at least it was with someone you’re genuinely attracted to, someone you have feelings for. Bucky had been forced to have sex with someone he didn’t even like, much less desire. After everything he’s been through, how hard he’s worked to find a place where he can feel safe and in control of his own life – his own body. Only to have that control taken from him again in the most indecent way. Shame, viscous and thick, swells in your throat like sickness and your eyes fill with tears. No wonder Bucky ran out of the cabin the way he had. You feel so much worse because of your feelings for him. Dirty and wrong because you would have enjoyed the sex even without the drug. You know, deep down, it’s not your fault. You didn’t mean to knock the case over and you had no idea what was inside – not to mention you weren’t the one who forgot to latch it – but you can’t help but feel responsible for what happened and you wonder if Bucky feels the same. If he knows about your feelings and thinks you orchestrated the entire thing on purpose. You wouldn’t blame him if he did. And the rest of the team! If they don’t know already, they will soon enough. What if they blame you too? What if they’re disgusted by you? Anxiety spreads through your body from your pounding heart, filling your limbs. You can’t breathe, you can’t think. You feel boiling hot and ice cold all at once. Collapsing to your bedroom floor, you bring your hands to your thighs, digging your fingernails into the skin. The sharp pain distracts you from the heavy panic flooding your body enough to let you focus on breathing in, then out, repeating the words in your head until you feel your heart rate settle, the panic easing a little. You pull yourself up off the floor and push yourself through the motions of getting ready for bed. The intrusive thoughts are still there (everyone hates you. You’re going to lose your job. Are you sure you didn’t do it on purpose?) but you try to ignore them. There’s nothing you can do about anything right now and thinking yourself into a panic attack won’t do any good. You turn on an old episode of your favourite show and get in bed, tugging the covers up to your neck and focusing on the screen, allowing the familiar storylines to dull the intensity of your thoughts until you finally fall asleep. A/N: And that’s the end of Part 1! Thanks for reading and feel free to like, comment, and/or reblog and let me know what you thought! I spent a truly ridiculous amount of time trying to figure out the whole sex pollen aspect and I’m still not totally happy with it hahah but I hope it doesn’t seem too shoe-horned in 😝 Anything else that you’d like to see tagged/warned for, let me know!!

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back | Nathan Bateman | Ex Machina

Summary: You and Nathan hit it off at a tech expo. One thing leads to another and the two of you pull a stunt, claiming you’re married. Things get out of hand, and you end up going to stay with Nathan at his home to avoid people trying to harass you about Nathan’s work. The time you spend together will allow for a real relationship to bloom. [Swearing] [Fake Marriage Trope] [Soft!Nathan] [F!ReaderxNathan]

Word Count: 3.3k

|Masterlist In Bio|

One day you realize Kyoko is missing. You're not sure when she stopped appearing, in fact you can't remember the last time you actually saw her. Last week? No. A month ago? Wait,have you been here that long? Time seems to have lapsed here in the facility with Nathan. You worried about this when you arrived. Or maybe when you took the job. Was it really a job? Everything is a little fuzzy in terms of what you are. An assistant one might think, a housekeeper perhaps? No. You took the job as Nathan Bateman's wife. Yes. Job....well...sort of. Let’s go back to the beginning shall we?

Three months ago you met Nathan at the biggest tech expo in Las Vegas. You weren't exactly there for the inventions and hottest tech on the market. You were a handler, an escort of sorts for the creators and investors from companies attending. Your job was simple. Make things as smooth as possible while the people with disgusting amounts of money make big decisions. It was a great gig. It paid incredibly well for being temporary. But Nathan didn't think it suited you.

The second he laid eyes on you it was all over. You had been nervous for days after learning you were assigned to Nathan Bateman for Thursday, Friday and Saturday of the expo. The Nathan Bateman, creator of Blue Book and the AI Project. You may not be a tech genius or even understand most of the things on display at the expo, but you would have to be living under a rock not to know who this man is and what he has done. He is illusive, handsome, sought after by many people the world over. Nathan is the definition of a sugar daddy if you ever did see one. Notoriously single, generous with his money, beyond genius intellect. He is the whole package.

One thing lead to another after you met Nathan at the expo and before you knew it he had your collar bones a mess with hickies and you were dressed in his sweater to attempt to cover them up. It hadn’t taken long before he was all over you, hands in your hair, on your butt, lips on your neck. You and Nathan had just sparked the moment you got close and you let that fire burn as hot as it could.

Of course all things in life have consequences, good or bad, and as you were leaving the rest area for creators, where the little hands on session had gone down, some press junkie saw you together. Photos were taken. Nathan had not been seen with anyone privately in years. He was never seen with a woman, let alone a woman wearing his sweater and looking a proper mess. It was a scandal to be had.

By the end of Friday Nathan was introducing you as his wife, a plan he had come up with on the fly. He had even procured a huge diamond ring for you too. Somehow you were playing along with all of this. Nathan offered to pay you, just for the appearance because it would be good for the company that he was seen as a man like any other, nothing more needed to come of your relations. It was fine. You were getting paid more than you could hope to make in your lifetime and getting to hang out with Nathan Bateman who you actually clicked with and liked to be around. Win win. You had it made. In less than 24 hours you were to be done with all of this and have cash in pocket to do whatever you wanted with.

Until.

A week after you had your crazy weekend with Nathan you were being followed. People kept showing up at your part time job in the travel agency downtown. They asked questions about Nathan, about his work. You didn't know anything. You were half tempted to tell everyone it was fake, that he never even properly kissed you, but Nathan paid you to be quiet, to play along. You signed his NDA. After a man followed you home from work and watched your apartment for two days, that's when you decided to reach out to Nathan. You could call the police and have the man removed, but there would just be others. This wasn’t a matter for the police, it was a matter for Nathan to handle.

Reaching a man like Nathan wasn't easy. He had left you a business card. A number that went to Blue Book human resources. It wasn't a way of contacting him directly, but it was. On the card was scribbled a word. "REQUIEM" You called the number and listened to the prompts. None reached an operator or customer service line. It seemed that no matter what you did it sent you to an automated system. Eventually you got so annoyed you just said the word requiem as if it were a prompt. Sure enough the phone started ringing, connecting to a line.

"Hello?"

"Nathan?"

"How did you get this number?"

"You gave it to me. At the expo." You tell him that it's you and he sighs heavily in relief. "I need your help."

"My help? With what?"

"I'm being harassed because of the expo." Your voice trembles and you realize how much of a toll this is taking on you. "People have followed me to my home."

"Fuck. Can you get to an airport first thing in the morning?"

"Yes."

"Perfect, give me your email. I'll send you everything you need to get away. Pack your bags for a few months. I'll bring you to my facility as a guest until this blows over or we decide what to do next. It's the least I could do."

And that's how you ended up in his home in the middle of nowhere Alaska for the last month and a half. Your whole world uprooted because you decided that a few hundred thousand dollars was worth playing fake wife to the country's richest and most sought after man for two nights. It was so stupid at hindesight, but here you are actually the happiest you've ever been and connecting with Nathan on a deeper level than you thought possible. The two of you just understand each other, it's as if you're two sides to one coin.

______________________

"So, where is Kyoko?"

Nathan looks over from his desk, peering at you over his glasses. You're leaning against the door frame in a nightgown you know he likes. "She's in storage."

"Why?"

"Because I decommissioned her." He turns his attention back to the computer and begins typing.

You step in and he lets out a little warning hum. You know better than to bother him while he's toiling away on code. Being here for this long has been a learning experience with his reclusiveness, but also a lesson on reading his moods. He's not irritated, yet. "Why did you do that?"

"Kitten, you are distracting me."

Kitten. The nickname he picked out day one. Who gives a guest a nickname?

"I'm curious."

"I'm working. You know the rules."

You lean against the desk and he flicks his gaze to you for a moment as your nightgown rides up your thighs. His rules were simple. Don’t bother him while he works, no kissing, no sex. Really you thought the rules were ridiculous. You were meant to be a guest, hiding while the world forgets about your fake relationship. But things don’t go as planned do they? The two of you have been pushing the boundaries of entering a relationship, though it has never been discussed.

"We haven't talked in days."

Nathan sighs irritably. "I am on to something that could be the greatest breakthrough in AI history." He pushes his chair back and pats his lap. "Come sit."

You do as told and plop down onto his lap.

"Now, if I promise to go to bed in two hours will you stop asking questions?" He runs a hand up your back, fingertips dancing against your skin delicately and making you shiver.

"That's a long time. It's already late."

"My patience is wearing thin."

"Alright deal."

"Good girl." He swats your butt gently and you slide off his lap. "Go make that bed nice and warm for me."

You take one last look back and he's already returned to typing. "One more thing."

"Nope. Get out."

"But-"

"Out, Kitten."

"Nathan, come on."

He stops typing and even in the dim light you can tell he is tense and irritated. This is the time to stop pushing his rules. "Go, or I won't be nice."

You cross the room quickly to kiss his cheek and then hurry from the room. You know he is probably going to do something to get back at you for disrupting him amid a coding session. But that's fine. You like seeing him break his own rules just for you.

__________________

Nathan comes to bed some time late in the night. You just recently began sleeping in his room, it’s what really started to blur the lines of what you were to each other. He had invited you to sleep with him after you found that your brain seemed to wander when you were alone in your cold windowless room in the inner workings of the complex and sleep never came easy. Nathan's room is upstairs, with a view out to the forest should you wish to set the windows to day mode. His bed is huge, elevated on a platform, covered in blankets and plush pillows. One may think Nathan's bed would be neat and clean like the rest of the house but no. It's like a nest of comfort, a bog of pillows that you could get lost in.

"Hey, I can tell you're awake."

"Just woke up."

"Everything is okay, you can sleep."

You arch back against him, butt pressed into his legs. "I still wanna know about Kyoko."

"Don't worry about it."

You yawn and he wraps arm arm around your chest. "It's weird. You said she was fine."

"Hush." He kisses your ear. "Sleep."

You fall silent, stewing in your thoughts. What purpose could he have for decommissioning Kyoko? She seemed fine. He said she had been working for years seamlessly. It just didn't make sense.

_____________________

Morning comes and the bed is empty. Nothing new. You wonder what it would be like to wake up to a sleepy eyed Nathan. Bet he'd look so cute. He's so hot without his glasses on. Well, he is hot with them on too but there is just something different about it you can’t describe.

"You wanna go for a walk?"

You look to the doorway and Nathan has his cargo pants and a jacket on. "I'm not awake yet."

"Suit yourself sweetheart. Call if you need me."

"Yep."

You throw your arm over your face. Your dream is coming back to you. It makes you shiver. You had been riding Nathan, hips rolling down into him desperately, his cock filling you so full. God you couldn't wait to do everything with him, if you ever do. You haven't even kissed yet. Even at the expo, he kept his mouth away froms yours, letting his lips travel elsewhere.

Nathan made his rules very clear at the expo and again when you arrived at the facility. No sex. No kissing. You suppose it has to do with attachments for him. You're just supposed to be staying with him until everything settles down around your fake marriage stunt. It's not supposed to be a real thing, but like you mentioned, everything has become blurry and unclear around your relationship with each other. Of course you both know that you have feelings for each other. Head kisses, throat, shoulder and back kisses are now allowed. Bed sharing is allowed. Cuddling. Snuggling. Talking and sharing memories is allowed. You think it's a matter of time before one of you fucks up and throws caution to the wind. What kind of host shares their bed with their guest? What are you doing here?

You crawl out of bed and grab some sweatpants on the floor along with a hoodie. If you hurry you can catch up with Nathan on the trail. Assuming he took the trail.  

The air is crisp, a typical fall morning for Alaska. It's beautiful, so clean, so easy to breathe. Nothing like back home. You jog along the trail that leads away from the back porch and sure enough you find Nathan walking with his hands in his pockets.

"Hey! Wait up!"

Nathan turns and stops, smiling softly at you. "Thought you were too tired."

"I changed my mind."

"Uh huh." He plucks at your hoodie. "This is mine."

"Yeah I just grabbed something in a hurry." You stuff your hands in the front pocket.

He runs a hand through your hair, fingertips lingering along the ends. "I like it on you."

"Thanks? It's just a hoodie."

Nathan pulls his gloves from his pocket and passes them to you. "Take these. I don't need you to lose a finger to the cold."

"You won't make me a cool robot one if I do?"

He pulls the gloves back teasingly. "Mmm, on second thought let's see if I can actually do that."

"No!" You giggle and he allows you to take them.

The two of you walk along in silence just enjoying the outdoors and everything it has to offer. Eventually you end up at the bottom of a waterfall. It's loud, beautiful, almost icy when you touch the water at the edge where it pools.  

"Do you want to know why I decommissioned Kyoko?" His sudden choice of topic startles you but it’s nothing new. He was always jumping on subjects randomly.

"Yes."

"Because of you."

"What?" You turn away from the water and walk to where he's leaning against a tree. "What did I do?"

"You took her place."

"What? She was your housekeeper and like an assistant or whatever. I'm neither, I'm just a house guest aren't I?"

“Just a house guest...” Nathan chuckles. "Kyoko was everything for me while I was here alone. A friend, a helper, my lover."

Your eyebrows shoot up. "She could fuck?"

"Of course she could fuck." He waves his hand dismissively. "When I say you took her place I mean in my life. I felt that she was unfair to you, that once you moved into my bed she didn't belong anymore. Kyoko is a great distraction but she isn't human, she doesn't think for herself, or feel for me. She doesn't connect like you and I do. It felt wrong to have her keep me company when you are here."

"But when I leave you'll bring her back out."

"No." He purses his lips and looks down. "Actually I wanted to ask you about that."

"Leaving? Have I overstayed my welcome?"

"Quite the opposite actually."

"The opposite? I haven't stayed long enough?"

Nathan pulls his hands from his pockets and gestures for you to come closer. You do as he asks and he cradles your face. "If you're interested, I'd like to actually start a relationship with you."

"Does that mean we can stop dancing around the edges of whatever this is between us? Because I don't think house guests normally sleep in their host's bed, or wear his clothes, or get neck kisses and give shoulder massages."

He smiles and licks his lips. "I wanted to see how far we could go until one of us broke down and drew a line."

"Nathan, I think we probably would have started showering together next if you hadn't said something by now." You laugh softly. "But yeah, I wanna see where this goes."

"So you'll stay with me a little longer?"

"As long as you'll have me."

"Don't say that." He puts his hands on your hips. "I might keep you forever. Might make you my wife for real."

"I'm not doing much for the rest of my life, so why not?"

Nathan laughs and it makes your heart swell. He rarely does so, it's such a treat to hear. "Never thought I'd meet someone I connect with so completely. Really I didn't think I'd ever meet anyone."

"Why not?"

"I'm not exactly social as you can tell by my living situation. But also I didn't think I deserved someone. Like I deserved to be alone, and be the way I am because I was gifted with such talent. I sort of accepted that it was a trade off for my intellect."

You lay your hand on his chest and his heart is pounding. "No one deserves to be alone. No one."

He smiles weakly. "When you called that day, saying you needed help because of the stunt we pulled, I knew it was you. I knew you were my chance at love in this life. There was no way I was going to let you slip through my fingers a second time."

"Second time?"

"I didn't want to leave you at the expo. I wanted to bring you home with me, I wanted to show you everything. But I knew I pushed it already with the wife stunt, and I knew you had a life and I couldn't be so selfish as to take you away from everything while chasing a high I got."

You smile softly and kiss his cheek. "I probably would have gone with you. That was the best weekend of my life and I didn't want it to end."

"I'm glad you let me play with you in that rest area and we got caught. If we hadn't I don't think we would be here right now."

"Don't make it sound so dirty."

"It was a little dirty." He kisses your cheek. "Hot too. You were so ready to just let me do whatever."

"Nathan!" You giggle and he presses his lips to yours. The sensation takes your breath away.

He cradles your face and slides a hand into your hair. He licks into your mouth and you let out a soft whimper. You grip his jacket and he turns you around so your back is against the tree. "Thought this would go a little differently."

"Yeah? How so?"

He presses another kiss to your lips. "Thought we'd be in the house, maybe curled up by the fire or in bed."

"Nathan Bateman a romantic? I'm shocked."

"I live to shock people." He chuckles. "I shocked my investors and my agent with our little marriage announcement."

"You didn't tell anyone it was fake? Not even your agent?"

"Not yet." He grins. "I like to make him sweat a little."

"You're mean."

"Sometimes."

"Well now we've established that this is happening, why don't we head back to the house? Are you free today?"

Nathan takes your hand in his and steps away from the tree. "I'm free every day."

"No you're not."

"I'm free every day you want me from now on." He threads your fingers together. "I promise."

"That's a big promise to make."

"I'll keep it." He brings your hand up and kisses it. "I'm a man of my word, you know that."

"Yes you are."

"Come on, I'm tired of waiting." He pulls you along the path and you walk quickly to keep his pace. "The last month and half have been torture."

You get ahead of him and pull your hand out of his. He raises an eyebrow. He knows what you're thinking. He knows you're going to run for the house and make him chase you.

"Don't you do it."

"Too late." You take off and he follows in hot pursuit. "You gotta catch me if you wanna keep me!"

His arm encircles your waist the moment you reach the porch and he tumbles you both down onto the sun warmed smooth wood. He rolls you under him and pins you by your arms. "You're mine now."

"I guess I am." You smile big and he captures your lips with his once more. “I wouldn’t be anyone else's.”

End .

-----------

Header by delicate-venus

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you read or enjoyed and support content creators like myself - A

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted works.*****

...imagine a Non-Despair or Pre-Despair Kuzuhina scenario where Hajime gets into a huge fight with his parents (most likely about Hope's Peak in some way) and after a few days to a week of shutting out his friends and boyfriend in class 77, he finally goes to them for comfort and just breaks down from stress and bottled up emotions.

(No I'm not projecting onto Hajime what are you talking about thats cRAZY-)

Hurt/Comfort is my specialty what can i say.

uh oh time for hajime to suffer again

so.

hajime's parents are those like, really shitty parents that see their kids as someone to live vicariously through rather than valuing them as people. they hold him to high standards that get more ridiculous as he gets older.

his and his parents' goals happened to align well when it came to hope's peak; hajime always admired the school and his parents insisted he go to a good school so that he could get the best education he possibly could - because they wouldn't be satisfied with any less than that.

they were content for a while and happy to pay hajime's tuition fees, but his parents' contentment was only ever temporary. one day they called hajime to the living room for a 'talk'. they'd decided they weren't happy enough with hajime just keeping up with the rest of the class, oh no, he had to be the top of the class. hajime kept up with school work just fine and did pretty well of the tests too, about average in his class, nothing to brag about but certainly nothing to be ashamed of or anything - but for his parents average wasn't going to cut it anymore.

so they told hajime he would have to be in the top five highest scorers on his upcoming test or they would stop paying his tuition fees.

of course, this was incredibly upsetting to hajime; he'd always dreamed of going to hope's peak, and now he finally was, and on top of that he had made some amazing friends there and had even met fuyuhiko. the thought of not being able to see them anymore, or at least seeing them way less than he saw them now, was honestly terrifying to him.

and not to mention, what his parents were threatening didn't even make any sense; what good would it do to stop him from going to hope's peak anyway? wouldn't that just go against what they wanted?

he argued with them further and they said if that did happen they would think of something else to have hajime do, suggesting the idea of sending him to some strict teacher that would teach him one on one - someone that would be ruthless and do whatever it takes to make hajime "get his act together", as they put it. that thought was also terrifying.

hajime was already trying hard as it was though. he'd managed to form a healthier relationship with studying at last and he was doing better in the subjects he struggled with most. he was really proud of how far he'd come and how much he'd grown since coming to hope's peak... but whatever he did or whatever he said his parents would never see it the same way.

very quickly his studying grew more intense now, he was studying for much longer and he had less time for the things he enjoyed - less time to relax. but what choice did he have? there was no changing his parents' minds, so all he could do was push and push to get a high score, even if it completely burned him out.

that's how hajime spent his days for a while. he didn't have time to hang out with anyone because he needed to focus on studying. usually he talked with fuyuhiko and the others a lot; they'd text each other often and usually met up at lunch and after school ended, but hajime didn't want to be distracted, and if he had spare time he could be studying. it seemed to be working for maybe a couple of days, but hajime knew deep down he was only going to get burned out... but he pretended like he wouldn't - he told himself he'd make it work somehow.

he couldn't make it work.

so, inevitably, hajime felt that familiar feeling of anxiety and stress building up and consuming him; he was exhausted and his mind was fuzzy - the words on pages in front of him blurring together and making no sense anymore, his eyes just drifting across them without picking up any meaningful information from them. he was tired and drained but his body was buzzing with panic and urgency.

he didn't know what to do, and when hajime didn't know what to do he went to his friends.

it was the late evening now and class had finished hours ago, but he left a message in his group chat with class 77 saying he needed someone to talk to and that he'd be waiting at a park just by the school - somewhere they often hung out.

hajime sat on a bench at the park. the cool fresh air outside usually helped to calm his nerves but was having no effect on him today.

it wasn't long before he heard footsteps approaching him at a fast pace. hajime lifted his head and saw fuyuhiko, ibuki, sonia, nagito, sagishi and mahiru all rushing to him, with chiaki a little ways behind but trying her best to keep up.

they all seemed really worried, even more so because hajime had been so quiet recently. it turned out they had all been wondering what was up with him and discussing how to deal with the situation; they'd decided to give hajime space for a start in case he needed it, but they'd agreed to drop whatever they were doing if he needed them there. they didn't want to overwhelm him though, so only some of them went to meet with him, just in case the whole class would be a bit too much.

this was so much more than hajime had expected though, he never would've guessed half the class would come to him on such short notice like this. they must've been really worried.

mahiru, prepared and sensible as always, pulled a large blanket out of her bag and set it down on the ground opposite the bench as hajime watched with a confused but curious expression. then, one by one, hajime's friends sat down on the blanket, fuyuhiko and sagishi sitting on either side of hajime on the bench, with fuyuhiko gently holding hajime's hand.

fuyuhiko asked hajime to take a deep breath and then asked if he could tell them what was wrong, and hajime began explaining from the beginning the best he could. the more he talked though, the more he got worked up, and as he talked about how scared he was to have to leave all of them he found himself stumbling over his words and breathing rapidly, tears building up and then quickly running down his face, his body shaking.

"hey, hey, hajime. it's okay." fuyuhiko comforted him, running his hand up and down hajime's back to calm him. "there's no way we'd ever let that happen. if they want to stop you going to hope's peak they're gonna have to get through us first."

hajime was calming down a little just from hearing that, but by this point his tears wouldn't stop; it was like all the stress and the pain and the worry was being flushed out all in one go, and all he could do was continue sobbing until it was all out. fuyuhiko slowly pulled him in closer and hajime wrapped his arms around him, crying onto his shoulder. fuyuhiko could feel hajime shaking as he held him back, but after a couple minutes he was becoming more and more still.

"if it comes down to it..." sonia spoke up as hajime relaxed and separated from fuyuhiko a little, returning to holding his hand as he shed his final tears - "...if they will not pay for your tuition then those of us who have the means certainly will. we shall do our upmost to ensure you will be able to continue studying here, as you have every right to do so. isn't that right, fuyuhiko?"

fuyuhiko gave hajime a reassuring smile. "of course. I reckon with a yakuza and a princess and with nagito's lottery money you'd have enough to pay for a hundred hajimes to go to hope's peak" he laughed.

"ibuki will hold a concert! a big concert, better than any concert the world has ever seen! all the money from the tickets sold can go to helping hajime!" ibuki grinned as she leaned forward and used both her hands to hold onto hajime's free hand, shaking it up and down a few times before settling down again. "really." she spoke much more softly now, almost sounding like a different person entirely, "we won't let them stop you from being where you're meant to be." ibuki let go of hajime's hand and sat down again.

nagito was the next to speak: "and if they take you away and force you to study with a private tutor or anything else you don't want, then we'll find where you are and steal you away again." "we'll do it over and over if we have to." mahiru added. "that's right! you know how stubborn we all are, there's no way we'd allow that to happen, not without a fight!" sonia chimed in, one fist in the air and a determined look spread across her face. "what can they do to stop us, anyway? they're just two people. they're older than us, sure, but together we're capable of so much more, as long as we work as a team." sagishi said as they placed a hand on hajime's shoulder for a moment.

hajime had some really amazing friends.

"are you feeling better now?" chiaki asked in a soft voice.

hajime relaxed his shoulders and sat up. "yeah. I'm feeling a lot better now. I... I really appreciate you guys being there for me like this. I didn't expect you all to rush over, and you've all been so... so sweet. I don't know what I did to deserve friends like you."

"dumbass. we're your friends because you're the same. we know you'd do the same for us if we were in trouble, don't sell yourself short." fuyuhiko furrowed his brows and poked hajime's cheek. hajime smiled at him and fuyuhiko smiled back before turning to face the others again.

after another few minutes everyone began heading back - fuyuhiko walking hajime home and insisting on holding his hand the whole way.

hajime didn't want to burden his friends, but knowing they'd be there for him if anything did go wrong made him feel incredibly relieved. he could tell that even if he told them not to help out, they still would. maybe that meant he wasn't such a burden after all.

knowing they cared so much for him, knowing that they valued him as a friend as much as he valued them, made hajime feel invincible.

he'd probably never be good enough for his parents, but to his friends he was someone who couldn't be replaced.

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Prove Me Wrong

Summary: She can trust you, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

Warning: 18+ Mental Health, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Domestic Abuse, Smut

y/ht - your hometown

Chapter 3

****** 

You can’t lie and say you weren’t a little scared. 

It’s been two days since you confronted Natasha about missing her sessions and your mind has been reeling since then. 

Perhaps it worked, or maybe your timing had changed, but you’d ended up seeing her around more. You would feel her eyes lingering on you when you passed by her. 

She didn’t spend too long around you, just yesterday the two of you were in the kitchen together and before you could muster up the courage to say “morning” she was gone. 

Today is Friday.

The second you wake up you’re blinded by the sunlight pouring through the windows. Had you not kept yourself up last night with anxious thoughts of today you would’ve taken the intrusion like a champ, blinking through the pain of the light, and jumping up with fervor.

But since that’s exactly what you did, you grimace at the light, and fall back on to the bed. You sling your arm over your eyes to secure the darkness around you and let yourself lay there thoughtlessly for a moment. 

‘Miss Y/L/N you have a scheduled appointment with Agent Romanoff in one hour.’

Damn you for inputting your schedule into F.R.I.D.A.Y’s system.

“Thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

A single minute ticks by and you fling yourself out of bed.

The shower you take helps to ease your state of mind, but you’re not fully relaxed until you take your first sip of tea. As usual, the warmth of it does wonders to your body and you hum in enjoyment.

Feeling like you’re now ready to face whatever is about to happen, you leave out of the kitchen.

When you enter your office you startle. 

Natasha stands at your filing cabinet, back facing you, as she fingers through a manila folder. 

“Stark made sure to put everything in here.” She comments, making no move to look at you.

Heart still pounding, you think of a reply,“ that’s what he said.”

The woman’s shoulders bounce when she scoffs,“ still playing at that huh? Do you think I believe that you didn’t read this?”

Your prolonged silence makes her finally look at you. She takes in your incredibly comfortable looking outfit, gaze lingering on the fuzzy animal designed socks, then snapping up to your face to see nothing. There was no expression there, just you watching her as she does you.

“Help yourself to any of the snacks in the cabinet or the drinks in the fridge,” you step around your chair to the other filing cabinet to pull out the empty notebook you had intended to use for her sessions,“ and feel free to make yourself comfortable Miss Romanoff.” You gesture to the couch against the wall.

Deciding not to let her intimidate you, you sit in your chair and stick your feet underneath you. All the while Natasha continues watching you.

Truthfully, with the knowledge that she’s already made up her mind on you, you wonder what’s making her watch you so intently.

When the woman moves to stand behind you, the hairs on your neck stand up. Goosebumps erupt, not in a sexual tension kind of way, but in a ‘she could kill me right now and I’d be helpless’ way. But you aren’t scared.

She leans down, arms crossing as she rests against the back of your chair.“ I don’t trust you Y/L/N. I don’t trust someone who doesn’t have a dark side.”

You shake your head,“ you don’t trust me because you don’t know me.”

“I think I do.”

“Tell me.”

Finally she walks around you. Instead of sitting on the couch, she sits on the coffee table directly in front of you.

“You were born in y/ht, father wasn’t around so your mother moved the two of you to New York. You went to a fancy little school in Brooklyn and had doors opened for you all throughout your academic career. Since you were born with your empathic abilities you automatically felt like you should help people so you majored in Phycology and Sociology and became a therapist after you graduated.” 

Listening intently to everything she says almost makes you laugh, but you know she’s serious and you don’t want to insult her in anyway.

Sitting forward, you lean on your knees,“ it seems you didn’t extend to me the same courtesy I did you.” She quirks a brow.“ Anyone can read my file Miss Romanoff. That doesn’t mean you know me. They’re facts of my life sure, but that’s not who I am.”

Before you indulge her clearly curious mind, you sip at your tea, slightly enjoying making her wait.

Natasha isn’t stupid, you never even began to think that. She prides herself on knowing things so of course she looked into you before you even entered the building most likely. But as you said, a file can’t tell you who a person is.

“My name is y/f/n. I was in y/ht. My dad was around, always drinking and waiting to kick the crap out of myself and my mom, which resulted in me sleeping in a locked closet to avoid his anger. When I turned ten my mom finally left him and we moved to Brooklyn.”

She would never admit to being shocked by that but you feel that she is. 

You continue,“ I did go to a fancy school but not a single door opened for me that I didn’t open myself. My powers manifested right before I enrolled in school, so when I got there my brain lit up like a power plant and I had no idea what to do about it. I struggled to get through school every day because it was too much to feel everyone’s emotions all at once. Which means my grades were shit for a long time.

I just barely made it through school and lucked into graduating. I didn’t learn how to handle my powers until college. Also, I became a therapist because I know if I had someone to talk to growing up I would’ve felt a hell of a lot better and decided that I’d like to help people in the way I hadn’t been. And for the record, I don’t use my powers with my patients unless given explicit consent to do so.”

Her mind is full of thoughts. She’s processing everything you’ve told her and trying to understand how she had missed all of that. 

Natasha has been learning how to read people her whole life. She’s mastered the ability to conceal her true emotions behind what she want’s people to see and thought she knew how to detect when someone else was doing the same.

Apparently she wasn’t that good at it. Or she is and you’re just really good at hiding.

The sound of a plastic wrapper opening grabs her attention and she looks at you.

You bite into the sweet little pastry before looking at her,“ oh did you want one?” 

She shakes her head.

Chewing and swallowing, you speak up again,“ you didn’t know because I didn’t want you too. I’m here to help the team, they all have more than enough going on, they don’t need to be feeling guilty about unloading their issues on someone who’s had a shitty hand as well. Besides I’ve worked past it and I refuse to let that define me.”

“I imagine it’s not easy to take on their emotions as well as your own.” She acknowledges.

“Nothing I can’t handle. And it’s worth it regardless of it’s difficulty.”

“Tony brought you in, I take it you worked with him before then?”

You shrug,“ we’ve spoken off the record a couple of times. I met him through Pepper who was my previous patient.” 

She nods, just barely looking intrigued by that. 

It’s quiet between the two of you for a while.

In said time you finished your tea, ate yet another snack, and reorganized Sam’s files(the man had taken it upon himself to put them away after your last session and started reading them, of course he didn’t put them back in the proper order).

Just as you’ve decided to go get some more tea she speaks up.

Her eyes had been on you this whole time, only now they lock with yours,“ you should lock your filing cabinets. It’s careless to leave them open for anyone to get to.”

“They are locked. Only myself and the patient who the cabinet belongs to can open it. Fingerprint scanners are on the underside of every handle.” 

She narrows her eyes at you,“ how’d you get my fingerprints?” 

You don’t answer, just giving her a smirk instead.

No, you can’t answer because you don’t know where they really came from. While talking to Tony about securing the files you’d obviously thought keys but he said that was too much and that he’d “handle” it. 

Somehow he got the teams fingerprints and yours. But you shouldn’t have expected anything less of the genius billionaire.

“I’m going to get some more tea, if you plan to stay, would you like something?” You ask, stopping with your hand on the door.

Natasha nods,“ tea.”

When the door shuts behind you, you release a breath that you felt like you’d been holding the whole time. You drop your head, looking at your shoes as you think.

You don’t think she’s playing at any angle, in fact you know she isn’t. But you also know she’s avoiding.

You can be patient though. She’ll run out of things to ask you and if not you know exactly how to gain control of a conversation. 

Deciding you didn’t want her to come find you lingering outside the door like a weirdo, you walk away. 

Tony, Steve, and Bucky are in the kitchen when you get there. 

“T, glad you’re here, I need a coffee maker in my office.” 

He looks from Steve to you,“ I was wondering when you’d ask for one. Thought you were a robot for a minute there.” 

You roll your eyes, greeting Steve and Bucky instead of replying,“ morning Steve, morning Buck.” 

“More like afternoon but hey.” Bucky says.

Eyes wide, you look to the clock on the wall. It is indeed two in the afternoon. There’s no way you were in there that long with Natasha. You swear it was much shorter than that.

“Everything okay?” Steve asks, noticing the frown on your face.

You nod,“ just lost track of time.” 

Tony scoffs,“ Romanoff givin you a run for your money huh.”

“I don’t discuss my patients Tony.” 

No one misses the fact that you’re fixing two cups of tea though and that does make them wonder how you’re doing with Natasha.

While she hadn’t spoken to you she obviously talked to her team so they were privy to the way she felt about going to see you. Steve was worried that she’d be less than nice to you and Tony just knew she wouldn’t take to you too well.

He also knows you so he was sure you would get to her eventually.

Once you’re finally finished up you smile to each of them and leave out. 

Entering your office this time, you partly expect her to be gone. So you’re just barely surprised to find her resting against your desk, flicking through the notebook you were writing in for her.

“I’m consciously deflecting in order to avoid addressing my traumas.” Her gaze flickers up to you,“ and what traumas do you think I’m avoiding Y/N?”

You move forward, stepping lightly, until you stop in front of her. Handing her a cup of tea you tilt your head a little,“ you tell me. While some people know exactly how to push trauma away, almost avoiding it completely, you accept yours and use it as motivation.”

 A small, adorable hum leaves her lips as she sips the tea, but it’s quickly forgotten when she looks at you with those piercing green eyes. It’s clear she want to hear what else you have to say, but you’d much rather she talk.

“Miss Romanoff, I can only observe you and make my own conclusions but I’d much rather know the truth. And only you can tell me that. So I’m listening, whenever you’re ready to address the issue.” 

With that said, you smile softly, and go to sit on the couch. Your actions cause Natasha to raise a brow. Admittedly she’s not sure why you chose to sit there instead of your own chair.

Simply put, you did so for her to feel comfortable. It’s clear Natasha feels comfortable when she’s in control and you’ve deduced that she doesn’t feel completely in control with you. 

Giving her your seat is your way of handing her control. You’d learned that while the seat doesn’t mean control in itself, usually the person sitting in it(you in this case) drives the conversation. That’s how patients feel, in the beginning at least. It’s all mental really but it’s the best you can do.

Cautiously, Natasha sits in your chair.

“I see nothing wrong with being motivated by the past.” She starts, her eyebrow quirking challengingly.

You shrug,“ neither do I. I’m motivated by my past. But objectively speaking I believe your past is holding you back more than it motivates.”

“And let me guess, you can’t tell me how.” She smirks as if she’s won something.

“Nope,” you pop the P in the word and smile back.“ But that’s because I don’t know anything about you. We both know the only way that’ll change is if you trust me. And that will only happen if you keep coming to see me.” 

When she stands to leave you’re expecting it.

“You know Miss Romanoff,” she stops at the door to look at you,“ I may not have dealt with issues such as the ones you and your team have presented me with, but I am qualified to do this job. I find it slightly offensive that you don’t trust me to.”

Just like before your words leave Natasha thinking that she has definitely misjudged you. And she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t intrigued by you.

******

taglist: @username23345 @muffliat-o @nat-km-mh @aaron-despair @natasha-danvers

ok so we all know that gray rushes/is eager about his relationships, but this time, what if the reader asks him to slow down or something? like she’s just getting started with her degree and she wants to slow down a bit, not rush into things, and eth agrees and gray is finally happy? also sorry if u aren’t taking concepts or requests lol

i feel like...low key....he needs this irl lol

this man doesn’t even have the phrase slow down in his vocabulary so when you say those words, the look of confusion that crossed over his face was to be expected. you knew you would have to spell it out for him, at least slightly. he gets in over his head with every relationship and wonders why they somehow fall apart so soon. some girls fall into that spell: the attractive guy wants me so it must be something real and true and they fall before they ever really form a strong bond, sliding to third base a time or two and tricking themselves into thinking it’s deeper than surface level lust. 

but you, you are not the ‘kick it into high gear’ type of gal and you thought you made that pretty obvious from the start. grayson gets attached easily, we all know that. you take your days one at a time, scope out the pros and cons of every situation. and you know, yeah it might be a trauma response from the countless times people have fucked you over and made you out to be a fool from a very young age, but that same mindset has helped you dodge many bullets over the years.

his first initial infatuation—it’s no different with you, but you are how do you say—hyper aware of his intentions and motives. you’ve been screwed over, toyed with, used your fair share of times and the world be damned to hell if some buff fluffy brown haired boy with amber eyes and a smile that oozes light and happiness comes in treating you like you’re this...lost treasure and you just believe him. believe all of the pretty words, take his hand and follow him into the dark, blindly let yourself love someone again not be sure of what they expect out of the relationship. and damn you if you let him swoop in and carry you off like a princess from a tall tower. like he’s this knight in shining armor. you won’t be fooled by the cloud of attraction and get yourself in too deep before you’re completely on the same page with one another. and first things first; you aren’t someone that needs to be saved, and neither is he.

you understand the puppy love stage of relationships. it’s bound to happen: the subtle obsession with your partner, that new light fuzzy feeling you get thinking about them, thinking of what they might be doing when they’re not with you, if they are thinking about you too, listening to all the sappy love songs and suddenly all you can think about is the color of their eyes after they’ve laughed real hard, the dip in their brow when they are thinking for a long time, the electric feeling that zaps your skin when they touch you, the way their voice lowers two octaves when they lean over and whisper something sweet in your ear, it’s all there for grayson. you know you’re falling in deep, and maybe that’s what scares you. maybe it’s the way you are so willing to trust him early on that leads you to the conversation of slowing things down. for the protection of the both of you, it’s not one sided.

not only had grayson made you feel secure in the very beginning of the sudden relation you had started, but he kept consistent with his actions and words. something that was unusual and strange after dealing with men that never really grew up beyond 16. at the stage of your life you’re in, there isn’t any room for a childish game of tag with a boy who didn’t have any intentions of sticking around in the first place.

you worked hard for everything you had, you always have. your upbringing wasn’t one of sunshine, rainbows, and unicorns. you didn’t have it easy. it wasn’t something that you used to weazle your way out of situations, excuse your occasional bad behavior, but it was something you thought about when you did catch glimpse of your growing attraction to someone. especially grayson, who was...one of the nicest men you had ever met. charming really didn’t even cut it. but just starting on your degree...complicated things. made you really want to reiterate to him that your degree, it was important to you and you fought tooth and nail to be able to even touch a college textbook. you couldn’t be blinded by his charms and be distracted from your dreams. there were times where the world seemed dark and hopeless and with hard work and perseverance you climbed out of that hole, just to stand as the strong intelligent woman he was falling head over heels for. you didn’t get that way over night. and you sure as well weren’t going to screw up your studies because you found someone that maybe wanted to stay, maybe didn’t. if the two of you were to work out and keep developing that beautiful bond - you hoped it would be as a team, one with understanding and clarity.

in your past experience, once a man knows he’s got you hooked, that’s the green light to treat you how they’ve wanted to the entire time. their once soft caress turns possessive, trust turns to assumption and blame, dates grow less and less frequent, and are left to sit and wonder what you ever saw in the first place. tricked, manipulated, and heartbroken. it’s never been honesty, love, and acceptance first. it’s “i love you” and “i care” when their actions don’t support their claims. you promised that the next boy you catches your heartstrings and strums until you’ve fallen under their spell, you would know exactly what you’re falling for. that means taking it slow, knowing what makes grayson tick, what he hates, what he adores, what brings him peace and comfort, if he cries during chick flicks, what kind of person he wants to be remembered as, if he fears the unknown as much as you do, was makes him completely and totally happy, and what infuriates him the fastest of all, what hardships has he had to face alone, what haunts his mind in the dead of night where no one can hear him crying, and what thought makes him smile when he’s doing nothing in particular. for once, just this once, you’re heart longed to know more that what meets the eye. you wanted to know if your feelings were 3 demensional, encompassing the good and bad about grayson, or if you truly just loved the way he fucked you.

but most importantly, you wanted him to know you. know the things about you that most people didn’t have the pleasure of knowing, all while making your dreams come true.

you thought maybe it was a mistake reaching out to ethan in your time of dire need of a shoulder to lean on, but it ended up being just the conversation and pat on the back you needed. the right nudge from the right person to have you sitting down with the softest soul you’ve come to find. grayson wasn’t someone you wanted to hurt, and ethan reassuring you that by talking to him and making him slow down, it would save him from more heartache than anything.

“i think it’s going to mellow him out, actually,” ethan nods along with your words, picking at a stray strand on his pants.

he wants what’s best for his twin, which is the exact reason you wanted to have this conversation with him. you didn’t want to mess something up and be rash and childish before anything real really even started, “grayson doesn’t really do ‘slow’, so this will be good for him.”

“i just don’t want to hurt him you know? i don’t want to be another girl that leaves so suddenly when he gets a bit too much. i know those are special circumstances and he was desperate with the desire of finding that special connection...” a pause to catch your breath, nervous from the vulnerability you’re showing already, “but when i make a commitment, i keep it. i want him to know that. i just want him to be secure within his decision to want...whatever this is with me. i want to be able to know him enough that my feelings for him are justified. and vice versa...i don’t want him to think that because i want to slow down, means i want to stop.”

“he will understand more than you think. if there is one thing i know about him, it’s that he will bend over backwards to make something he wants work. if he really wants you like i know he does, he will slow it down and make sure that you are comfortable. sounds like he doesn’t have much choice.” and it’s nice hearing those words from someone you haven’t gotten the chance to grow all that close with yet. hell you’re not even that close with grayson yet. you’re in the beginning stages still, learning your way around life with him in it. independence has always been one of the things that made you, well, you - and Grayson must understand you need more time before moving forward. 

“really?” your heavy sigh shows your nerves are shot from worrying about not just school, but about the many different outcomes of the talk you need to have with Grayson. it has to happen, but you’ve never been one for confrontation even if it’s ensuring a positive outcome for both parties. 

another shrug with a kind smile from ethan warms your heart, “just talk to him. he’ll appreciate your honesty. most of the other girls got wigged out and dipped, it’s going to mean so much more that you are wanting to stick it out even if it’s going too fast for you right now.”

growing up in a family full of huggers really shows when you step forward to wrap your arms around his waist for a split second, appreciative that he listened to understand and actually help you.

“thank you e, i hope he doesn’t just think i’m trying to make excuses and leave.”

when you pull away he is smiling still, pleasantly surprised by your friendly hug. with a light squeeze to your shoulder and a soft sort of smirk playing on his lips, he gives you just the advice you needed.

“something i’ve learned being his twin; give him a little more credit.”

when  you have that conversation that had you so nervous your stomach tossed and turned all day long, you make sure you’re chanting ethans words over in your head. breathe. it’ll be fine. he will understand. give him a little more credit. he really wants you. the words play like a song through your head as you wait for him to sit back down on the white floral sheet in the softest patch of grass in your backyard. water spills from the glass in his hand as he plops onto the ground in a heap of giggles, muttering “fuck” softly, trying (and failing of course) to wipe the water off of his light blue button up shirt. it’s a good color on him, and you’re momentarily distracted from how attractive he looks in the late afternoon sun. 

when you first met grayson, he had stumbled upon you sitting all by yourself in a small park, book in hand, peach in the other, completely unsuspecting that you would catch his heart captive when you glanced up with a smile that just about made him pass out. you were still surprised months later that he had had the nerve to say a word to you, he looked ill with anxiety to even utter a word. it was a day you’d never forget - and you would try and remember that innocent look in his eye when you explain why you had planned this picnic in the first place. to talk, to listen, to understand. 

you figure if you really want to have the conversation be as smooth as it can be for the both of you, you could take it back to the very start. a simple picnic, with a lot of hope for the future.

after the laughter fit falls down, it’s time to get to the root of the issue. you prepare yourself with a deep breath in, holding in for a few seconds with your eyes closed, then slowly releasing when you look back at the questioning raise of his eyebrows. when he cocks his head to the side, you know it’s now or never. if you don't say it now, you might regret it. 

“I actually brought you here so that we could have a talk real quick,” you finally explain, making sure to maintain eye contact and drink in ever facial expression he may have - just so you know how to go forward. 

“you know you can talk to me about anything, is something wrong?” He’s so soft with the way he talks, never suspecting anything like what he’s about to hear, and it almost hurts to know you’ll be disappointing him in some way. 

“nothing is really wrong...i just think maybe...we should slow it down for a bit.” 

“what do you mean? we just got here,” he chuckles, taking a sip of his water with a shake of his head. not understanding, his fingers fiddle with the fringe at the bottom of your sundress. 

you continue without stopping, ignoring his joke and hopefully make him see you aren’t here to fool around, at least not entirely. it was a serious talk for once and you wanted him to respect what you had to say. 

“-not go so fast we miss the exciting part of getting to know one another,” you carry on to a now confused, sorrowful looking grayson, finally understanding that you weren’t talking so much about the picnic - but the two of you as a whole. 

“i still want this—still want you i mean. but i just...want us to be us for a bit and not worry so much about the next step and then the one after that and the one after that and-” 

he holds his hand up to stop you, cutting you off while looking at the ground deep in thought. setting the water down slowly, he climbs back up to his feet. you watch him patiently while he treads through the clipped grass, knowing he’s trying hard not to overreact and over think. After what feels like eternity, he sits down with his hands hanging off his knees, picking at a blade of grass he’s ripped from the earth beneath him. 

“have i pushed you?” 

sweet boy, always trying to take blame.

with a small smile you shake your head, “you haven’t pushed me at all gray. I just want this to grow - want us to grow. i don’t want you getting in too deep before you’re sure you’re ready for all of the things i’m looking for in the future and likewise.” 

another nod of understanding, he was listening close. his respect for you grow tenfold, you had the courage to not let your lust or even affection cloud your judgement and you were honest with him. something that grayson admired most from anyone he let into his life was honesty. 

“i’m not very good with slow but i’m sure you’re probably right,” he laughs more at himself than anything, “i just get carried away. especially with a woman like you. how couldn’t i?” 

always the flirt. and a good one at that. he always knew exactly what to say to get you blushing, which is exactly why you hide your face bashfully in your shoulder for a few moments before you could look back at him admiring you. 

“I hope you know that this is different though, Y/n. I can’t exactly explain how, but you should know i’ve never felt this way for anyone no matter how many times i’ve tried to convince myself otherwise in the past out of...fear, shame, even guilt. it’s different. and because of that difference, i know i can’t be selfish with you.” 

for once you’re grateful for your mothers voice at the back of your head nudging you to let your heart be open, because without that voice, you would never be sitting in the grass with a man that truly does want to respect your boundaries and looks at you like you’re made of exquisite glass. you wouldn’t have memorized the soft texture of his lips as you lean in to kiss him, or the feeling of his hand cupping your cheek. you wouldn’t know the sound of his relived sigh, or the giggle that breaks the kiss only a few seconds later. and you wouldn’t have the clarity that you so desperately craved. 

if there is one thing you knew for sure it’s that he is telling the truth. his truth shows with the delicate placement of his hands, the soft caress of his thumb on your cheek, his fingers running through your hair, and all the other ways he shows his adoration for you every day that you wish to hold on to forever. you know that the waiting and slow pace will be worth it in the end and the slow burn will turn into the blazing fire that you can already tell shines in his eyes. your hesitation has nothing to do with him but a past you would explain in due time. 

for now, you’d continue kissing him on the sheet that smelt faintly of laundry detergent, in the backyard of your quaint apartment on 26th and Broadway, with his hand in your hair, lips pressed gently against yours, and a whole heart full of hope for a long future of days just like this. 

Huma x reader (mainly showing Harry x reader) - slowburn oneshot - brand new

wattpad version (smut included)

Ao3 version (smut included)

=

-This is a smut oneshot(edit; turned into a slow burn oneshot that goes into smut cuz I can edit2.0; this tumblr version doesn’t have smut in it, it is hinted at but otherwise its not written but I will link to the AO3 and Wattpad versions that will have the smut posted) because im trying to practice writing it and (y/n) is written with she/her pronouns and has female body parts because, again, im still practicing on smut and want to get used to writing my own…body type before I branch out to attempt to write any other type anyways LETS GET TO IT-

Your leg bounced as you stared at the wooden swing doors of Ursula's chip shop. Harry had left to do some errands two hours ago, and usually he got those particular errands, collecting payment for the protection of shops and territory, done within two hours.

But it had been a whole two hours, you glanced at the clock again, and two minutes. Something burned in your gut, telling you something was wrong. You wouldn’t dare voice your concern in front of the crew and the chip shop customers, you would be cackled at for even entertaining the idea of worrying about someone, even if it was Harry.

You and Harry weren't close, you were just a simple crew member on Uma’s crew, you had joined after their adventure to the isle of the doomed so you didn’t have the bond that the crew had after going through something life-threatening. You were pretty sure Harry didn’t even know your name!

But that never stopped the butterflies in your head and stomach when you heard him laugh, never stopped the heat creeping up your neck when he smirked, never stopped the fuzzy feeling in your head when his ever so bright ocean blue eyes lined with black liner scanned the crew, never once locking onto you but that didn’t stop your heart from beating faster than a hummingbirds wings…whatever hummingbirds were but Gil had rambled about them one day after he found a bird fact book and that particular fact stuck in your head.

Besides, Harry practically had every vk at his feet, hell you were pretty sure Uma liked him too, and he liked her, with how they looked at each other it was a wonder that the entire isle didn’t ‘gossip’ about them.

And you were nothing compared to Uma, who in all honesty, was fucking gorgeous, so you could never blame Harry if he chose her out of all his “suitors” because who were you compared to Uma? You were just the daughter of simple thieves who had unfortunately been sent to the isle.

You looked at the clock again and frowned, it had only been another two minutes but that didn’t stop the pit in your stomach from growing. If Harry wasn’t back by 8:30, which was a bit less than a half-hour from now, then you would go looking for him…well if Uma didn’t send anyone out to look for him first, but she trusted him so she might not send anyone out at all.

But like you, Uma nervously glanced at the doors and clock every few minutes, like you, she also felt something was wrong but had to keep her usual calm demeanor in front of the crew.

You made eye contact with her after looking away from the clock again, Uma raising her brow in curiosity as you felt your ears burn and you looked to the doors quickly.

You counted down the minutes to 8:30, your fingers tapping rapidly against your tray of food and the heel of your boot hitting the leg of your stool in time.

It had been two and a half hours after Harry left for his errands, and you had finally had enough, you made eye contact with Uma as you stood and she nodded, glancing towards the doors then the sword check then back at you.

You somehow understood each other and you nodded back, heading towards the doors quickly as you snatched your cutlass from the sword check and raced out the chip shop in search of Harry.

-

You hopped over a rusted metal fence and landed on your toes; your eyes wide with caution. you were now just along the lines of territory a rival gang that had been attempting to take Uma’s territory for the past couple months. After you had gone to all the areas that Harry was supposed to go for his collecting route, Dizzy, bless her little heart, had nervously told you about Dylan, Clayton’s son, and his gang had ambushed Harry just a bit after he had finished up at Dizzy’s and kidnapped him and stole all the money he had just collected.

So you went to go collect the pirate and the money they had stolen, they were probably going to keep him for ransom against Uma, but what ransom would they have if there was no pirate or money?

You may have been the daughter of two ‘simple’ thieves but….then again, they were simple on the isle, not in Auradon.

Your lip twitched as a bout of cruel laughter echoed out from the building, you sprinted forward silently as you noticed one of the gang members on lookout duty starting to come around the corner to your right. You took a leaping step, catching yourself on an open window ledge and pulling yourself up swiftly, jumping up the three feet gaps between the windows as the guard passed below you not even knowing you had been where he was walking just a moment ago.

You thanked whatever god was out there for your (dad/mom) teaching you how to free run when you were younger. You peeked into one of the dark floors of the building, pursing your lips a bit as you remembered that their gang site was in an abandoned parking lot. Not much room for error, or hiding places.

You hopped through the window and landed silently on your feet, stopping as another bout of laughter echoed below you.

They kept to the lower floors then, which was good to know, it also meant both an easier and harder escape once you had Harry. Easier because less distance between Harry and the exit, harder because less distance between the exit and the gang.

You ran over to the stairwell; glad you had decided to wear your shoes with no heel as it made running quietly much easier. You grinned as you stepped into the stairwell, no door. hopefully, the other floors didn’t have them either, or else if they squeaked both you and Harry would be in for some shit.

You glanced at the faded number on the wall.

The seventh floor, wow you had climbed quite a bit, hadn't you? You shook away the thought, swiftly yet carefully climbing down the stairs, scanning each floor as you arrived to check for the gang.

Finally, you arrived on the third floor, the only floor with any light coming from it. You moved to stand flush against the wall next to the doorway of the floor, peering in as best you could without anyone seeing you, glancing every now and then to the stairway for any other gang members.

You huffed quietly as Dylan pushed at Harry's limp head, cackling and muttering to himself as he circled Harry like a bloodthirsty shark. You grit your teeth as you got a good look at Harry in the dimly lit area he was in. he was tied to both a structural beam and a folding chair, blood dripped from the side of his head down to his jaw and off his chin, he was starting to bruise on his face, neck, and possibly his torso and wrists, but those weren’t visible at the moment so you settled for guessing his injuries.

His right ankle was also at a VERY worrying angle…you might have to take some drastic measures to get Harry out of this parking garage.

Dylan was muttering something about how Uma would bow to him when she found her ‘precious’ first mate all bloody and beaten, and how he would finally have command of the wharfs.

“not on my watch” you muttered, quickly coming up with a plan and digging into your thigh bag, pulling out a handful of mini smoke bombs that your (dad/mom) had made forever ago in case one of the three of you needed them. You took out your lighter and lit the fuses, chucking them into the room and smirking as they landed right beside the gang members, luck seemed to be on your side today.

“what the hell-HOLY-“ Dylan let out a high-pitched screech as smoke burst from the nozzle of the smoke bombs and quickly filled the room, for being the size of ping pong balls they sure packed a wallop of smoke.

Pulling up your bandana to prevent any smoke inhalation you dashed into the room, running towards Harry but was stopped as a foot came arching your way. You held up your arms in front of your face and blocked the kick, stepping back quickly as the gang member started swinging at you, grunting with effort as you dodged and misdirected his punches.

“WHO THE HELL IS THAT?!” Dylan yelled, you smirked under your bandana, you weren’t really a known member of Uma’s crew, liking to keep to the shadows and out of sight.

You took the moment of disorientation from Dylan’s yell that caused the gang member to slip up and ducked under his next swing, one arm grappling around his next ant clasping with your other hand, your right foot going behind his ankle and pulling him forward flipping him over and slamming him into the ground with a loud crack.

He was out for the count, now, you looked up and around you, through the smoke you could see maybe 9 members left, including Dylan. Should be easy enough, you glanced at Harry, frowning slightly as he started to cough, but you would have to work quickly so Harry didn’t get all the smoke in the garage in his lungs.

You threw yourself back as another lackey of Dylan’s threw a punch at you, you decided to make quick work of them and grabbed their wrist, pulling it up and back towards them, smirking at the sickening pop that sounded from their shoulder. They screamed and dropped to the ground in agony, yelping as you leaned back from a sweeping air kick and slammed your hands onto the floor, using the momentum and lifting your legs back with you.

Your foot slammed into the next lackey's chin and he fell back, his skull slamming against the floor with a crack. You rolled back into a summersault and stood on your feet, catching the leg that was aimed at your chest and pulling the lackey towards you, kicking them twice in the stomach then throwing them over your shoulder with a twist of your torso and a spin of your feet.

They crashed to the floor just next to Harry, who was just barely coming to consciousness and jumped at the loud noise. He squinted through the smoke and dimly lit area, eyes widening as he spotted the spray panted symbol of Uma’s crew plain on your jacket sleeve.

Dylan watched in shock as you easily took out his gang members, and when the final one fell, he could feel the smug grin you had when you turned to face him.

Dylan let out an intelligible yell and rushed at you, only for his world to go black as you stepped to the side, grabbed his arm, turned your back to his chest, and swung him over you using his momentum.

Dylan and his gang were out for the count. And with Dylan knocked out the smoke finally cleared and all that was left was the dimly lit floor, the unconscious bodies of the gang, and an injured Harry.

You let out a soft sigh and pushed down your bandana, walking towards Harry and flipping out your pocket knife, kneeling next to Harry and cutting the ropes around his wrists and legs, then the ones around his torso keeping him to the beam. “woah-“ you pressed your hands against Harry's chest gently as he tried to rush out of the chair. “-hold up, you’re really hurt” Harry looked down at you, and you winced as you saw his swelling eye and bleeding nose for the first time, his lip was busted too.

“who-“ Harry slurred, trying to ask for your name or your rank in the crew but was unable to get the words out still being very much out of it from being jumped and beaten.

“im (y/n), im a regular ol’ crew member, and I got worried about you and came looking, come on, there are still some members on guard duty and we need to skedaddle before they come up” Harry gave a slow nod and with your help got to his feet, letting out a yelp as he put too much pressure on his broken ankle.

“um, okay” you quickly thought up a plan and had Harry lean on you almost completely, cursing Dylan for making the main part of his hideout on the third floor, now you had to get Harry down three flights of stairs just to get him to the doors. You and Harry froze at the sound of heavy footsteps running up the stairs, you let go of Harry's hand and lowered him to the ground, quickly jumping into a fighting stance and glaring at the stairwell doorway.

You felt Harry's eyes on you as did so, but you did your best to ignore him and the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach. You slumped as Gil’s concerned face popped above the stairs, his eyes widening as he looked at Harry “holy heck, what happened?” Gil asked, walking over to Harry and checking him over.

“Dylan wanted him for ransom for the captain's territory, I took care of it” Gil gave you a look, you were never one to take initiative in the crew, well he didn’t either but you always stayed in the background, always seeming too scared to do anything about…well anything.

So for you to go out of your way to save Harry made Gil want to scratch his head. It clicked for him a moment later when he remembered how you always stared at Harry, with a look he could never put his finger on. Yes, Harry was the first mate and any of the crew members should put their life on the line to rescue him if needed but you didn’t do this as a crew member, you did this out of your personal feelings.

Gil, for once, didn’t think aloud, just hoisted Harry into his arms, ignoring Harry's protests and light smacks against his shoulder, and walked down the stairwell, you taking a moment to collect Harry hook that had been attached to one of the lackeys and running after them.

-

You stood awkwardly at the door frame of Harry's room as Gil set the injured pirate on his bed, you had never seen his room before, it was…a decent size, but you forced yourself not to memorize it for…reasons.

“I’ll tell Uma” you muttered aloud, walking away from Harry's room as you saw Gil nod, not seeing Harry strain his body in an attempt to keep his eyes on you.

When you arrived back at the chip shop and quietly informed Uma of the situation, she cursed and looked to the clock, she wasn’t off till midnight and it was only 9:15, she had another two hours and forty-five minutes before she was off and then she still had to clean!

“just-have Gil take care of him” she muttered back, pushing you back towards the chip shop doors “there's a medical kit in my quarters, under the board just left to the door, it'll jiggle when you step on it, give that to Gil and he’ll know what to do” you nodded and ran back to the ship, not wanting Harry to suffer for any longer than he was.

You went to Uma’s quarters, whistling a bit at the size of the room, and turned to the left, flipping up the loose board and taking out the large duffle bah with the red plus symbol on the side. “this has to be it” you muttered, standing and walking out of the room, closing the door behind you and making your way to Harry's room. you peeked into the room, frowning at the sight of Harry's very swollen turning very red and dark purple ankle. You knocked on the door frame and stepped into the room, handing the duffle bag to Gil.

The boys seemed to realize exactly where the bag was from and looked at you apprehensively, gosh sometimes you forgot how protective of Uma they were, even if it was a simple item. “she gave me permission to get that, I'll be out of your hair now” you spun on your heel and speed-walked out of the room, ignoring the butterflies in your gut as you felt Harry's eyes on you again.

-

It took Harry almost two months to heal from his injuries, his ankle still had ways to go so he was forced to be on the bench for crew activities and his usual errands until he could walk without his ankle being at a weird angle or him wincing in pain every time he took a step or shifted his ankle.

Gonzo and Bonnie took over his usual errands as Gil took over as temp-first mate until Harry was all healed up.

During those two months, you had noticed something….new.

Harry and Uma had taken to staring at you…a lot…like a lot a lot.

At first, you thought you were imagining things, the feeling of eyes constantly on you, then you thought that maybe some of Dylan's gang members had found out you were the one to sabotage his plan and were spying on you.

Those thoughts went out the window when one day you turned to look over your shoulder and saw Harry and Uma staring directly at you, Uma leaning on the long table on her elbows as Harry covered his mouth and some of his nose with his chin resting in his palm. You snapped your head back around and curled in on yourself, willing the heat growing up your neck to go away.

The next odd thing to happen was Uma beginning to actually…use you for crew things? Usually you just kinda…sat back and watched as everyone else did stuff, not of your own violation or laziness, it's just that Uma and Harry never seemed to…have anything to do for you?

But now it seemed like Uma was actually trying to include you in pirate activities, even once assigning you to her when the ship needed some maintenance on its ropes. She also started to either keep close to you as you trained in combat with the crew or sometimes even training you herself.

Which led to some…situations, you see, while you were pretty much an expert in hand to hand combat you fucking sucked with swords so once in a while you fumbled with your sword and…Uma while not being a PDA person, well unless it was Harry but even then, would walk toward you and correct your grip, stance, your free hand for balance, and even lead you in some sort of weird dance to help you learn your footwork.

It was like she was…sizing you up, if that was the best word, always keeping her eye on you, asking you random questions, making you help out in the chip shop, and just…having you be around her more than you used to.

Then there was Harry, after two months of just staring at you, he started talking to you, first “thanking” you for saving his ass from Dylan, aka he made you a bracelet and tossed it in front of you with a nod and a mutter of  “thanks”. Gil had muttered next to you that Harry liked to make people stuff as a way to thank them, and held up his own bracelet that Harry made for him when they were younger “it's just one of the ways he shows appreciation!”

Then it moved to small conversations about random things, they weren’t long, just…small talk when you ended up in the same place as each other or when you were both on nightshift guard duty. The staring hadn't stopped, but you didn’t mind it as much as you used to, knowing it was Harry and Uma keeping their eyes on you, for whatever reason, but it made you feel….safe? you didn’t know the feeling that came with them watching you but you knew it wasn’t scared or threatened.

One day Harry asked you to practice some knots with him, setting up two crates and making you sit across from him. As you worked on learning how to make a round turn and two half-hitches knot, Harry stared at you, watching you ever so carefully, drifting his gaze from your concentrated face to your swift and calloused fingers as you successfully pulled the knot together, looking up at him with a shy grin, seeking his approval.

He smirked and nodded, patting your knee and beginning to instruct you on how to do other knots, in a softer voice than before. Next, is something that took you a pretty long time to notice but, they started to get physically closer to you when they could. Like when the crew crowded around the table for mealtime at the chip shop. In the beginning, you always sat at the farthest end of the table, always keeping to yourself and trying not to bother anybody.

But as time went on, you were slowly being pushed towards the middle of the table where Uma, Harry, and Gil always sat, or sometimes you would sit in your usual seat and Harry or Uma would be away from their seats and closer to you. You didn’t notice any of this until your shoulder was in line with Harry’s, his jacket brushing against your arms and legs knocking into yours.

They both seemed to also attempt to get you into conversations more, Uma’s hands ending up on your arms or shoulder when she talked to the crew if they weren’t on Harry's shoulder, Harry leaning in close to you when you had your little conversations, Uma staring intently as you trained with the crew.

Most of this you didn’t notice, being the oblivious and overthinker person you were, you brushed off the thought of a possible connection with the two and thought they were just doing what captain and first mate did, have a good relationship with a crew member was essential.

What you didn’t see was the crew smirking as Harry stared at you, snickering when Uma rested her hand on your shoulder, whispering to themselves as their eyes always flashed over to you when you walked through the doors, gossiping when Harry sneaked his own food onto your plate.

Even Gil, who was admittedly a bit airheaded, could see what was going through the minds of his two oldest friends. He just grinned and leaned back, knowing he had started it all when he had told Uma of his “theory” of you possibly having feelings for her first mate/kinda boyfriend.

She at first just wanted to size you up, to see if you were “worthy” of her best friend, she and Harry had an open relationship, if either of the others wanted to get with someone else as long as they talked it through and got consent it wasn’t a problem. Uma just wanted to see if you wouldn’t hurt Harry.

She didn’t expect to catch feelings for you. It was something that boiled beneath the surface of her skin as it developed, she didn’t even notice it happened. The feeling of sparks dancing across her fingertips when her hand touched yours when she fixed your grip on your sword, the burst of warmth beneath her skin when she locked eyes with you, the flutter in her gut when you laughed at one of Gil’s stupid jokes or Harry’s dumb stunts.

It was all the same feelings she got when she was around Harry, but it took only one moment for her to realize she had fallen for you. It was just supposed to be a regular Sunday on the isle, it was her day off so she decided to spend it with you meandering around the marketplace, not particularly looking for anything just browsing.

Their time at the market had been shortened by the arrival of Dylan, taunting Uma and getting in her face. “come on shrimpy!” he snickered, his gang behind him cackling loudly “too scared to go against me-GUk” Uma snapped her head around to look at Dylan as he suddenly gasped for breath and her eyes widened in shock. Dylan was on his back, holding his gut as you stood in front of Uma, tilting your head dangerously as the gang took a step back.

“not a good idea to disrespect the captain, Dylan” you growled, sending a shiver down Uma’s spine, you weren’t much a talker, and when you did it was soft, but now? There was a thick tension to your voice, almost reminiscent of Harry's low growly tone when he got angry.

Dylan slowly sat up and glared at you, eyes widening as he realized who you were “you’re-you’re the bitch that” he paled at the smirk on your face.

“that kicked your asses? All on her own? Yeah, I’m that bitch, now back the fuck up before I snap your teeth with my boot” Uma swallowed around the rising heat in her neck, rolling her shoulders to get rid of the uncomfortable tension that was growing inside her.

Dylan let out a snarl and snapped his fingers, three of his lackeys running towards you, all yelping as you took them down with ease. Uma smirked as the lackeys landed next to Dylan, who then stood quickly and bolted the other way.

Dylan stood and looked behind him, freezing as he noticed almost all his gang had abandoned him, the only one left was his right-hand man, who stared at you with wide fearful eyes. Dylan slowly turned as he heard you crack your knuckles and squeaked as you gave a sharp smirk “this is the part where you run away~” you giggled, holding in a loud laugh as Dylan and his last lackey turned and ran with their tails between their legs.

You rolled your shoulders with a sigh and turned back to Uma, feeling your cheeks burn as she stared at you with wide eyes “uh…captain?” Uma snapped out of her trance and smirked at you.

“and here I thought Harry lied to me about your fighting skills~” her smirk softened as you tugged at your shirt. “come on, let's finish up here”

It was only when you returned to the ship and Uma got a moment to herself, that she realized what those feelings were in the market, they were the same feelings she got when she looks at Harry.

She liked you…a lot. Uma let out a low groan and sunk into her chair in her quarters, now she had to deal with feelings for her chaotic dumbass first mate and the oblivious yet badass crew member.

She went from just checking you out to make sure you were good for Harry to now fucking liking you…what a trope huh?

Harry on the other hand, had realized his feelings from the start, they were very small to start with, he hadn't even known your name before the fateful day when you saved him from Dylan.

It felt like his heart was jumpstarted as he locked eyes with you as you flipped Dylan over your back, sparks running across his skin when you undid the ropes around his wrists.

First, he was impressed, you had gone out of your way to save him and then took down almost an entire gang, some of the members easily overtaking you in size and strength but you took them down as if they were nothing. Then you had been so protective of him as you tried to make your way out of the parking garage with him, even getting ready to fight Gil before you knew it was Gil.

As you walked out of Harry's room after giving Gil the medical pack, he had asked Gil what your position on the crew was. As Gil told him about you, he remembered when you told him your name and he quietly muttered it, smiling slightly as he decided it fit you perfectly

Then he was amused, you were much shyer than he thought you would be, you were always by yourself in a corner, keeping to yourself and never talking to anyone. As he moved closer to you during meal times, he enjoyed the little sarcastic comments you muttered to yourself as you listened to whatever the crew was talking about. He giggled to himself at the look on your face when he dropped the ‘thank you’ bracelet in front of you, mentally dancing in excitement when he saw you wearing it the next day and then never take it off,  he didn’t know why he mentally danced in excitement but he brushed away the implications of it.

Then he and Uma started to attempt to get closer to you, well Uma was doing…her own thing while Harry was trying to get closer. First, he started with having you learn and help him tie the ropes around the ship, watching you as you at first fumbled with any type of rope he attempted teaching you, his heart fluttering when you finally got it and looked up at him for approval, a shy grin on your face.

He watched enraptured as you trained with Uma, chucking as he could imagine the steam coming off your face as Uma placed her hands on your hips and hands and corrected your stance. He cackled when you knocked Gil to the floor on a hand-to-hand combat training day, falling to his side as you leaned over Gil's dizzy self with your hands moving about unsure of what to do.

He watched you interacted during the quiet moments of the night when you would both be on night shift watching the ship, your shy nature seeming to melt away under the cloudy black sky as you rambled about whatever you were thinking about. He never really noticed himself leaning ever so close as you talked, only able to focus on you.

He noticed the crew teasing him and Uma pretty early on, though they were easily silenced when either him or Uma glared at the crew.

One day, he realized he was smitten with you. The crack of your voice when you got nervous, when you fidgeted with your rings, the smirk on your face when you flipped one of the crew members over your back, the laugh that spilled from your lips when you finally got the hang of using your sword, when you rubbed your thumb against your lips as you zoned out, it all made him feel warm inside, the same feelings he got around Uma.

He had to tell Uma about his feelings for you, they were in an open relationship but he wanted to make sure she was alright with you before he pursued anything with you.

One night after Uma finished up at the chip shop, she arrived to her quarters to see Harry sitting on her bed, playing with the curve of his hook as he waited for her. “Harry?” Uma groggily asked, she was exhausted but Harry never seeked her out after midnight, so something was up “what's going on, what do you need?” she closed the door to her room with her foot and slipped off her boots and hat, walking over to harry and flopping down on the bed next to him. “um-“ Harry stuttered, the red in his ears creeping down to his cheeks “yeh know (y/n)?” Uma perked up at that, pushing herself up with her hands and staring hard at Harry.

“yeah?” Uma’s heart sped up at the mention of the girl she had fallen for, god she hoped Harry wasn’t going to say he didn’t like her, and then Uma would feel like shit and she’d never be able to kiss the shit out of you till either of you couldn't see straight. “what about her?”

“I-um…I-…I like ‘er…like I like yeh” Harry’s face was almost crimson now, staring down at his lap as he played with the loose threads on his pants. “and-and I was wonderin’ if I-I could…um, invite ‘er into our relationship?” Harry's voice cracked at the end, oh so nervous and scared for what Uma was going to say.

“thank fuck I thought I was the only one” Harry snapped his head around to look at Uma, his mouth dropping open slightly “god fuck isn’t she so fucking pretty?!”

Harry let out a small sigh of relief and fully turned to look at Uma, sitting up on his knees “YES! Fuck she so pretty I just wanna smoother her in fucking i-gaaah ya know?!” he lifted his hands in front of his face and clenched them in an odd motion of frustration from (y/n)s prettiness. Uma laughed and nodded, grabbing onto Harry's hands and gripping them tightly.

“I do know, and I would be a hundred percent down for inviting her into our relationship, but!” Uma held up her hand as Harry gave her a wide grin, he deflated a bit and tilted his head “we need to make sure she's gonna be okay with this” Uma motioned between her and Harry “hell we don’t even know if she has feelings for us” Harry looked hurt at that, just wanting to drag you into bed with him and Uma already so he could smother you with cuddles and whatever couples did with their adorable significant others “I know, but we need to play this safe, I don’t want to scare her off”

Harry gave a slow nod, he wanted to do what he always did, rush into an idea with no real plan and just hope he didn’t die. But he would listen to Uma on this, she was a lot better with relationships then he was…well the logical part of them, he was better at feelings and physical stuff.

So the two talked into the night, deciding in the early morning that they would tell (y/n) about their decision on Sunday when Uma was off work.

Their talk happened on Wednesday, by Saturday afternoon Uma was off the isle, having dived through the barrier just before it closed and swimming to Auradon in search of revenge on Mal and to free the vks still on the isle.

It was only after she left that you realized you had fallen for Uma alongside Harry. The piercing feeling in your chest and gut every time you thought about your captain or even just being on the ship or chip shop slapped you in the face as you realized you fucking missed Uma, more than you should have.

You knew Harry missed Uma too, he had shut himself in his room soon after Uma disappeared at cotillion and refused to come out even when Gil asked. It wasn’t till his sister Harriet stormed onto the ship and dragged him out of his room that he seemed to be a little more like his usual self, he also started to hang around you more often and on the nights where you were on night guard duty he would join you, even when he didn’t have to anymore now that he was captain until Uma’s return.

Your mind was a maze, just trying to maneuver your feelings for both Uma and Harry, the feelings you had for Harry had multiplied for Uma, and now you couldn’t even think about either of them without heat rushing up your neck or butterflies rushing around your stomach.

Great, you had a crush/probably in love on the two people who were already “dating” each other, and both of them were so.damn.pretty. You groaned to yourself, covering your face and sinking to the ground in a crouch. Yeah, you had no fucking chance.

On the bright side, it did seem you were getting closer to Harry? So unrequited love aside at least you were getting a friendship out of it? The two of you started hanging out together more often than not, as you had mentioned before Harry joined you on night guard shifts, the two of you continued rope tying practice, started hand to hand combat training, he took Uma’s spot in teaching you how to use a sword, and sometimes the two of you would just…chill, hanging out in the bird’s nest drinking and eating whatever snack or food Harry had found, you leaning against his legs in the cramped space.

About five months after Uma had left the isle, the crew, aka Bonnie and Drey, decided to have a “bonding” night, forcing everyone into the chip shop after closing time, surrounded by rum and leftover food from the day to play truth or dare/seven minutes in heaven.

The rules were if you didn’t want to tell the truth or accept the dare, you had to spin the bottle and play seven minutes in heaven with whoever it landed on, and if you refused to play that, you'd have to take a shot of Desiree’s strongest liquor.

Bonnie, being the one who made the rules, went first, pointing to Gil and asking him truth or dare.

“Truth!” Gil chirped, already halfway through on his fries. Bonnie hummed for a moment and tapped her bottle of beer, trying to think of something good since Gil did tend to blurt out everything.

“who do you have a crush on?” Bonnie finally asked with a teasing smirk, laughing a bit as he pointed at Harry. “yeah, okay we knew that”

Harry blew a kiss towards Gil and Gil grinned and caught it, smacking it on his cheek and going back to his food as the crew burst into laughter. Gil tossed a fish stick into his mouth and looked around the group, pointing at Gonzo.

“truth or dare Gonzo” Gonzo let out a low hum and shrugged.

“dare” he muttered, thinking that Gil wouldn't be able to think of anything that bad. Oh, boy was he wrong.

Gil gave a nasty grin and stood, walking over to the kitchen and rummaging in the fridge for a few moments “oi what the hell are you doing?” Harry yelled, pouting as Gil didn’t answer.

Gil returned with something in his fist, his other hand keeping the unknown object hidden from sight. He stood in front of Gonzo and opened his hands, showing a snake egg. “eat up!”

“OH HELL NO” Gonzo yelped, smacking the egg out of Gil's hand, Drey and Jonas screeching as it smashed against the floor and black goo spread from the destroyed egg. Half the crew scrambled back from the egg, its rancid smell already beginning to spread around the chip shop

“ah Gonzo come on!” Emanuel complained, diving behind Gabe, the two pushing each other away and towards the egg in desperation to get away from it and doom the other to the smell.

You covered your mouth as you held in your laughter, falling to your side a bit and your head hitting Harry's shoulder as he cackled. “okay okay Gil, clean it up, Gonzo, either spin the bottle or drink” Gil begrudgingly cleaned up as Gonzo pouted at Harry.

Bonnie held up the empty rum bottle and wiggled her brows at Gonzo. He glared at her and snatched a shot glass from Desiree and took the shot, gaging a bit as it went down his throat “holy shit that’s strong” he shivered, the rest of the crew booing as he handed the shot glass back to Desiree.

Since Gonzo had forfeited the dare and seven minutes in heaven, Gil went again, this time picking Drey and the girl chose to do truth. “Ummm okay…uh, ever give a blowjob?” the crew whistled and hollered at the speedy turn towards the sexual end of questions and Drey snickered, shaking her head and holding up her hand to her mouth, only her pointer and middle finger around her lips as she winked and stuck her tongue through. “I’ll take that as a no” Gil laughed, taking a sip of his rum and leaning back on his elbows.

“your turn Drey” Bonnie called, stealing a crab cake from Zhao and laying halfway down on the floor, resting her chin in her palm. Drey tapped her chin, looking around the crew before her eyes landed on Yamato, who quickly leaned behind Gabe but was too late.

“Yamato, truth or dare” he kept behind Gabe for a moment longer before he sighed and leaned back to sit straight and looked at Drey in surrender.

“dare” he muttered, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and chin in his hands. Drey gave a wicked grin and looked around, trying to find something that would best work on Yamato.

“oh! I got it…lick Gabe's foot” the crew yelled out in disgust as Gabe laughed and pulled off his boot, shoving it towards the disgusted Yamato.

“NOPE gimme the bottle, GIMME THE BOTTLE ID RATHER MAKE OUT WITH ANYONE ELSE THAN LICK HIS FOOT GABE GET THAT AWAY FROM ME OR WE WILL THROW HANDS” Yamato shoved Gabe away from him, the cackling pirate falling on his back holding his chest.

Bonnie cackled and pushed the empty bottle of rum into the middle of the circle, Yamato sighed and leaned over to spin it, sitting cross-legged as everyone stared at the bottle in both excitement and anxiety.

Finally, the bottle slowed and landed on Zhao, the crew cheered and the two boys laughed, Zhao biting his bottom lip, squinting his eyes, and raising his brows.

“Alright come on Zhao les make out!” Bonnie stood and ran over to the closet that she had declared “heaven”  the two boys joining hands and swinging them as they walked into the closet and Bonnie closed the door after them.

“have fun~ Gonzo set the timer!” Gonzo leaned over the took the timer/stop watch from where Bonnie was sitting and set it for seven minutes “im so glad that thing is basically soundproof I do not need to hear Yamato moaning” the crew snickered at that, Harry rolling his eyes and leaning towards you.

“five bucks Zhao gives Yamato a handy” you felt your cheeks burn at his low-toned voice and laughed a bit, nodding as he grinned at you.

“you’re on” you whispered, biting your lip as Harry patted your thigh and sat up straight again.

“who’s next?” Jonas asked, taking a swig of his rum and glancing about the room.

“I’ll just go again and when Yamato comes out hell go” Drey waved it off and looked around the room, pointing at Gabe “Gabe truth or dare!”

“Dare” Gabe snickered, falling off balance a bit as Drey pointed at Gil.

“sit in Gil's lap till someone picks you again” Gabe sighed and stood, plopping in Gil's lap and crossing his arms.

Gil didn’t seem to mind, reaching his arm over Gabe's waist to grab his food tray. “all right, Gonzo truth or dare!” Gonzo groaned, having only gone a couple of turns before but chose truth this time “have you ever given head before, doesn’t matter girl or boy just head” Gonzo tilted his head then nodded. the crew, minus you and Harry, wolf-whistled “yooo who!?” Gonzo grinned and shook his head.

“hey, I only had to answer if I have given it before not to who” Gabe pouted and leaned back into Gil.

“party pooper” Gonzo perked up and looked around the group, eyes landing on you, smirking as you shrunk into yourself in an attempt to make yourself invisible

“(y/n) truth or dare” you tugged at your shirt, trying to decide what to do, go with truth, and possibly reveal your crush on Harry and Uma? Be dared to do something embarrassing? Play spin the bottle? Or take a shot?

“um, truth” you squeaked out, Gonzo looking up at the ceiling as he tried to figure out what to ask you. Finally, he snapped his fingers as he looked back at you, having found the perfect question.

“Have you ever had sex? Or been with anyone for that matter?” you shook your head, you were a virgin through and through, you haven't even kissed anyone before. “huh, all right your turn”

You looked around the group, finally landing your eyes on Desiree who had been untouched the entire game “Desiree” she looked up at you, mid-sip on her rum “truth or dare?”

“Dare” she answered immediately, smirking as the crew ‘oooh’d at her. “gimme your best shot (nickname)”

“umm” you had never really…dared anyone to do anything before…this was gonna be tough. “lick the bottom of Bonnies boot” the crew stared at you for a moment as Desiree looked between you and Bonnie wide-eyed “what?”

“holy shit I thought you were gonna like, I don’t know, make me eat twenty crackers or something! But I’ll do it” the crew cheered and Gabe leaned over to give you a high five.

Bonnie lifted her boot into the air and cackled as Desiree just went for it, going sole to toe “AHHHH” Bonnie cackled, falling backward and holding her leg in the air. Desiree backed into her spot again and shook her head, hanging her tongue out of her mouth as she made gagging noises.

“tha’ wath stho groth” she gagged, grabbing a paper towel and scraping her tongue of the taste of Bonnie's boot. after a few moments of the crew laughing at her, along with the timer of Zhao and Yatamo’s seven minutes in heaven beeping, the two coming out of the closet with Messy hair, bruised lips and Zhao’s pants unbuttoned.

Harry pouted at you and took the five out of his wallet, placing it in your hand as you gave him a smug grin. “yeh won tha’ one lass” he laughed quietly, freezing as Desiree locked her eyes on him.

“Harry, truth or dare” Harry kept a staring contest with her, trying to predict what she was going to do.

Finally, he sighed “Dare” Desiree let out a cold cackle, Harry freezing again at it.

“let Gil give you a haircut” Harry immediately shook his head, Gil had cut his hair once before and he ended up with the worst patchy hair cut he had ever had, he only trusted two people with his hair, Uma, and Harriet. “alright then spin the bottle!” Harry sighed, he had a lot of work to do in the morning so drinking wasn’t the best idea so he took the bottle from Bonnie and spun it, mentally crossing his fingers that it would land on you.

You watched as the bottle spun around, pulling your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. You did want the bottle to land on you but at the same time you hoped it wouldn’t land on anybody so you wouldn’t be going behind Uma’s back or so Harry wouldn’t be kissing someone other than you or Uma.

You felt the heat climb up your face as the tip of the bottle landed directly on you, the crew whistling and cheering as you buried your face in your knees. “wooooooo come on you two! Get to the closet.” Harry glanced at you and while he really wanted to go into the closet with you, he felt bad as you had completely turned into a ball of embarrassment.

“come on guys she obviously-OI” Gonzo and Jonas grabbed Harry's arms, carrying him to the closet and tossing him in, Drey and Desiree grabbing your hands and tugging you in after him.

They closed the door behind you, Bonnie going the extra mile and locking the door “Have fun~ seven minutes!” Bonnie’s muffled voice yelled through the door before it went silent.

You pressed yourself into the wall and sunk to the floor, holding your face in your hands and pulling your knees to your face. “(y/n)?” Harry quietly asked, kneeling in front of you and cupping your face with his hand, pushing your chin up to make you look at him “are yeh okay?”

“I-I just-“ you buried your face again, if you looked at him anymore you would throw your moral compass out the window and just kiss him silly.

“do yeh not like meh?” he asked, feeling a pit form in his chest at the thought of you not liking him in ‘that’ way, he blinked in surprise as you shook your head and looked back up at him.

“no-its, not that, it’s more…I like you…like a lot…more than I should, a lot” you whispered, biting your lip as Harry stared at you, not noticing him glancing at your lips “but you’re with Uma and I don’t want to ruin anything between the two of you even if it's just a dumb game and I don’t want to ruin our friendship with my dumb feelings even though I just blurted out every-“ you were stopped by a soft pair of plush lips,  and in the dark of the closet you saw Harry very very close to your face, his eyes closed and hands gently cupping your jaw.

You decided to just let yourself enjoy the next seven minutes and closed your eyes, pressing back ever so gently back into Harry…your brain reminded you that Harry was your first kiss and you smiled, helluva first kiss if you did say so yourself.

Harry pulled back slowly and you fluttered open your eyes, biting your lip as Harry gave you a soft smile “yeh wouldn’t be ruining anything between Uma an’ I, we both like yeh and actually” Harry let out a nervous chuckle “we were goin’ ta ask yeh ta’ join our relationship a couple months ago but…Uma left before we could tell yeh…we were planning ta ask yeh the weekend that ended up filled with all the beasty boy stuff…” Harry hoped that you wouldn’t reject Uma, he loved both of you and he didn’t want to have to lose one to keep the other.

“I…Uma-“ you leaned forward, burying your face in Harry's shoulder “I like Uma too” you whispered into his shoulder, squeaking as Harry picked you up by your thighs and pushed you against the wall, his hips pressing into yours.

Harry smiled at you, pressing another kiss to your lips “good, we can have fun when she gets back okay?”

You whimpered into the kiss, nodding as he pulled back “okay” The two of you spent the next seven minutes exchanging kisses and feeling the room heat up as Harry continued to press his hips into yours.

You were soon interrupted by Bonnie yelling through the door “Times up you two!” Harry groaned and set you back on your feet, letting you hang on to him as you balanced on wobbly legs.

Harry knocked on the door, Bonnie quickly unlocked it at that and swung it open, giving the two of you a smug grin before her shoulders dropped

“oh come on it's like you didn’t do anything!” Harry rose his brow; he had bitten your neck and dry-humped you did it really seem like he did nothing? He turned to look at you, raising his brow as he realized you had quickly fixed yourself up and the only evidence to your heated time in the closet was your heated cheeks. “All right come on, Zhao’s on a dare right now and Gabe drank a shot”

You and Harry glanced at each other then back at the crew, walking out of the closet and taking your previous seats next to each other, Harry's arm now resting behind your back.

Things changed after that, the small conversations at night turned intimate, faces always close together and bodies touching, breath mingling, and Harry's lips pressing against your lips or neck every so often. Practicing knots went from sitting across from each other with Harry instructing you to you and Harry sitting so close your knees touched the inside of his thighs, his hands ever so gently guiding your fingers through the motions and his voice soft.

He started to pull you away at random moments to a hidden corner and curl himself around you, pressing his lips to yours with the others oblivious to your recent activities.

The two of you hadn't gotten to resume your session from the closet, leaving you frustrated and needy. You honestly just wanted Harry to ravish you until the sun came up.

What you didn’t know was that Harry was feeling the same way, frustration building in his body every time he looked at you, eyes burning into your lips and body, just wanting to drag you to his room and show you a whole new world. He thought of you every night, almost stomping to your room and taking you but holding himself back.

It was just getting too much for both of you, so one night, when Harry knew neither of you had anything to do the next day, snuck to your room and knocked gently on your door, not wanting any of the crew to hear knowing you wouldn’t want everyone to know your business.

“Harry?” you whispered, looking around the dark halls of the ship as Harry stared down at your lips, your body barely covered with only a loose shirt and some sweat pants “what's wrong? It's like, 2 am?” Harry leaned in and pressed his lips to yours passionately, curling his hands around your face and humming into it as you pressed back needingly.

He pulled back, just enough for your breath to mingle “darling” he purred, enjoying the way you squirmed at the tone of his voice “do yeh want to continue our little session from the closet?” he grinned as your eyes went wide and you nodded erratically. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of your room and closing the door, the two of you sneaking back to his room.

That night was filled with heated kisses, whispered confessions, and bruised hips.

Everything changed again after that, the soft hidden kissed behind corners turned to heated make-outs, you still had soft kisses but more often than not it was passionate. You slept in Harry's room more often than not, not to have sex but simply because you liked being with him and him you. Your midnight talks being shoulder to shoulder turned to you being engulfed in Harry's arms and sitting between his legs as you talked about whatever you wanted. The practice tiring ropes became teasing, Harry sneaking kisses whenever he could

Harry went deeper into himself, and you learned almost everything from his favorite drink to his deepest fear, and he told you about Uma as well, letting you get to know her through another and you fell for both Uma and Harry more each day.

And you told him what you could, from your favorite color to your most embarrassing moment, it was…bliss, well as blissful a relationship could be on the isle.

About a year after the two of you got together, you watched as Harry and Gil dove through the barrier just as it was closing after the core four and Celia, messing with your bracelet nervously as you watched Gil and Harry fight with Carlos and Jay. Harry forced a blue gem out of Mal's hand and it soared over the water, Mal letting out a small scream before a turquoise tentacle reached up and caught it.

Your breath caught and you let a grin grow on your face “Uma” you whispered out, bouncing on your feet as Uma rose out the water, looking even more beautiful than the last time you saw her. Harry looked directly at you, the same feeling you had at seeing Uma swimming in his eyes.

Uma was back.

After Uma submerged into the water and sent a tunnel of water up and splashing the vks, she reappeared on the other side of the bridge, holding up the glowing gem Mal had been holding.

A few minutes of negotiating later, with Mal being stubborn as always, the vks were off to do whatever they were off to do, you didn’t know, the most you had heard was Mals muffled scream of ‘no’

Uma suddenly glanced back, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she looked at you. You gave her a grin and waved back, you guessed Harry had told her about the two of you and you hoped to hades that you would see them again and be able to kiss Uma finally.

-

Only a day later, in the early morning, Harry and Uma stepped into his room, Harry gesturing to his bed where you were sleeping curled up in one of his shirts and his blankets.

“aw,” Uma cooed, walking over to you and caressing your cheek, flinching back as your eyes snapped open and you sat up, a bright grin growing on your face as your vision refocused and you saw Uma.

“Uma~!” you squealed, launching yourself at her and tossing the two of you onto the ground, Uma chucking underneath you as her head was pinned to your shoulder. “you’re back!”

Harry smiled as you and Uma hugged on the floor “so Harry tells me you like both of us? And want to be with both of us?” Uma asked, sitting up with you in her lap.

Your face burned slightly but you nodded, smiling as Uma cupped your cheeks “good, but just so you know I will always choose sea ponies over both of you” you and Harry burst into laughter, a smile growing on Uma’s lips as she watched two of her three favorite people laugh.

“Harry already told me that part of the contract” you teased, leaning in and pecking Uma’s cheek, snickering as she froze and stared at you “what? I can’t kiss my girlfriend~?”

Harry chuckled and kneeled next to you and Uma, wrapping his arms around you and whispering in your ears “I think Uma’s bed is a bit better to fit all three of us eh?” you grinned, Uma’s face burning as she saw Harry wiggle his brows.

“I leave a virgin first mate and a shy oblivious crew member and come back to two horndogs…Christ remind me to never leave yall alone again”

“noted” you and Harry sang in unison, Uma laughing at it and shaking her head.

“Alright come on, let's go to my room.” you and Harry grinned, your arm going around Uma’s and grabbing onto her hand as Harry tossed his arm around her shoulder and the three of you walked into Uma’s room.

To which Uma was very VERY glad her room was soundproofed a long time ago.

-end-

side note with the smut, this was 50 pages and 15,676 words, without the smut its 32 pages and 9943 words which is still a lot but woza, like, 16 pages of the fic was dedicated to smut XD 

permtaglist

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange (thank you for beta reading the smutty version don worry ill link the full version lol) 

@lunanight2012 @daughter-of-the-stars11

@musicarose @rintheemolion

@jatp-rules-my-life @verboetoperee

@thecaptainsgingersnap @random-thoughts-003

@remembered-license @imtryingthisout

and because you asked me too since i used the crew names you created @askauradonprep​

snapshot

Note from the editor:

This is the first letter of this nature that I’ve received from someone who wanted their question published. Other than editing for formatting and grammar, it’s in their own words and their own words alone. Please send an email or ask if you know how to solve their problem-- and quickly. 

I have to warn you, this letter isn’t for those who are put on edge easily. Reader discretion is advised. 

I don’t know if I’ll still be around by the time this is posted, but that doesn’t matter. So long as this reaches whoever might need it. 

I first saw it last October. The 27th, I think. Kind of cliché for this sort of thing to be happening right around Halloween, but truth is stranger than fiction. It was late in the evening, almost nighttime, when I saw this stray dog roaming around in my front yard. I grabbed my dog’s leash and went to get it, thinking I could keep it in my backyard until I could find the owners, but the second I left the front step, it started off towards the bike trail. I sped up to a jog and followed it, hoping not to scare it off any further. 

The bike trail veers away from the neighborhood and through this piece of undeveloped land that separates the suburbs from a nearby farm. The dog was mostly sticking to the path, moving along at a trot, stopping every once in a while to look over its shoulder and wag its tail, like it was waiting for me to catch up before starting off again. After a few minutes of this, I called for it-- tried to whistle, asked it to heel, etc. It came over when I pretended to have a treat in my hand, holding my fist out like there was something inside. When it leaned over to sniff, I clipped a leash on its collar, a simple fabric band without any tags or ID. I’d never seen the dog before, so I got out my phone and took a picture of it to post to the neighborhood Facebook page, asking if anyone knew its owner, before walking it back to my place and letting it out in the fenced back yard. After feeding my own dog, I sat down to check Facebook to see if there was any response. 

No one recognized the dog from the photo. One comment asked me who was standing in the background. 

There hadn’t been anyone else in the woods, as far as I remembered, but I double-checked the photo anyway. In the background, about 20 feet away, it looked like there was a figure-- vague, kind of person-shaped if you squinted-- standing just to the side of the bike path. It was all indistinct and fuzzy. Probably just a smudge on the lens. I responded to the comment before trying to clean off the lens on my shirt, then taking another photo down the hallway to see if the smudge was gone. There didn’t seem to be anything. The rest of the night was relatively normal. 

The next morning, I ended up trying to clear out my camera roll, to save some room for any pictures I might take of my baby cousins in their costumes. I deleted a bunch of screenshots, old photos, and the image of the dog, before going to delete the hallway picture. 

The smudge was still there. Like before, it was around 20 or so feet from where I’d been standing when I took the photo, around the size and height of a person. Unlike before, it was peering around the corner from the door to the bathroom. 

I was freaked out some, to be honest.  I scrubbed the lens down with a Lysol wipe and took another photo down the hallway, trying to prove to myself it was just some sort of shadow. Nothing that would show up in the daylight. And it didn’t-- nothing strange, no smudge, just a block of sunlight from the windows. I didn’t delete the picture from the night before, though. Just in case. 

It was a few more weeks before I took another nighttime photo. My cousins are too young to stay up late, so they’d been out trick-or-treating around 5:00 in the evening, back before it was even dark, so I didn’t really take anything on Halloween. The dog was returned to its owner a few days after, so nothing there, either. 

It was around the middle of November when I ended up catching it again. I was on a nighttime walk and passed the home of this older couple down the road who always put up their outdoor Christmas decorations about a month too early. I wanted to get a picture of the setup-- they had this new animatronic Santa, sitting on a throne and waving to the road. I can promise that no one else was in the yard. I used the flash (on accident, but still), and if someone was there, I would have seen them. When I got home, I sent the picture to a friend of mine for her to make fun of. She messaged back with a few laughing emojis before asking who took the photo.  

(ID: Two texts from my friend reading “lol” and “really who took it”. My response says “wdym?”. She responded with two texts saying “I see you in the background, genius” and “just vibing by the garage”. End ID.)

I checked the photo again. By the house’s garage, a little under 20 feet from where I’d been, was a clearer, more distinct figure. For once, I could make out its face. 

I don’t know who or what it is, or how it got there, but it definitely looked like me. It was even wearing my clothing, had its hair done the same way, everything. Just standing there and smiling for the photo, like someone just out of frame was telling it to say cheese, looking right into the camera. 

I immediately turned all the lights on that I could reach. I almost deleted the photo, staring at it for too long, before closing out of Photos and reopening my camera. I figured this had to be some weird hallucination or something I was making up, but that didn’t make it any less terrifying. I aimed the camera down the hall and took a video. Nothing. I checked it, sliding the scrub bar back and forth to inspect each individual frame. All of them were just empty, illuminated hallway. That didn’t shake the feeling, though, so I turned the hall light off and tried again. Nothing showed up on this video, either. I took a photo. 

It was there. Again. It wasn’t peeking out from around anything, just standing in the middle of the hallway, the same distance it had been from the camera in the yard. 

I didn’t sleep that night. Or the next few. 

I ended up searching the internet as much as I could for anyone with similar experiences. I saw things about ghosts, things about illusions, things about solid doppelgangers that people saw with their own eyes and not through pictures, but nothing like this. Over the weeks and months that followed, I took investigating into my own hands. 

My fears were quieted some-- some-- when, after the first few nights, I realized that it wasn’t hurting me. It never even moved, staying in the same poses each night. The only change was, no matter where I was, inside or outside, it was always the same distance away.

I started taking pictures almost obsessively. Every day, every night, I tried something new. I tried every condition I could think of to see when and where this thing would show up. It became a part of my routine-- almost a companion. I’d even jokingly wish it goodnight. 

I could put walls between myself and it. At one point, I stood inside my closet and took a picture, only showing racks of coats and clothes. It could be seen through windows, if there was no room for it to appear indoors. I could take pictures out my bedroom window to show it standing right there outside the window on the front walk. It always looked exactly like me, down to the smallest detail, except for the face. It never had any expression other than a smile. No matter where I was, inside or outside, it could be there. I got pictures of it at home, at work, out of town. It never showed up in well-lit photos. Things in the dark with flash were okay, but it would just be a little indistinct. Dimmer lighting, pictures taken at night, all of that was free game. I never got a picture of it in daylight. 

Around February, I sat down and tried to sort all the successful photos into one album to clear up my camera roll. At this point, it was mostly just pictures of the thing, since I was sometimes taking up to dozens a night. I deleted all the failures, saving all the pictures of it into one album. That’s when I noticed.

It was getting closer.

I guess I had ignored it over the first months. It had been too gradual for me to notice, only an inch or two each night, but looking at all the photos in order, it was obvious. Instead of being around 20 feet away, the thing was closer to 15, still just standing and smiling.

I had to tell myself it was coincidence, or something I was imagining, or I think I would’ve done something I’d regret later just then. Now that I knew it could move, I didn’t really think of it as a friend anymore. 

I kept taking pictures throughout the following months. Only at night. It stopped showing up outside my bedroom window-- in retrospect, probably because the ground wasn’t close enough for it anymore. It stopped lurking at the end of the hallway, drawing nearer until it was standing right there in the living room. It started putting its hands against the glass of the kitchen windows. Then it started showing up at the kitchen table. 

I got desperate, some. I tried everything. I burned incense, I tried to talk to it, I bought fucking crystals. I’m an atheist, but I even considered calling a priest or something. All spring, I was constantly scrambling to find some way to get that thing to leave, or at least stop moving. Every night I took more pictures, too many, before scrolling through my photo album with a looming sense of dread. Nothing worked. It kept coming, slowly, always dressed like me and always doing that smile. It got close enough that I could see the whites of its eyes. I almost wish I could say that there was something messed up about it, something that made it obviously inhuman or dead or anything, but there wasn’t. It was just me, just exactly like me, and somehow that was worse. 

I’m sending this in now because it’s really close and I don’t know how to make it go away or if that’s even an option anymore. These past few nights, it’s been right in front of me-- I could reach out and touch it, if it was solid. Hell, I could probably feel its breath, if it had that. I’ve been taking pictures every hour or so, sometimes every couple of minutes.

Last night, around the fifth or sixth picture I took, it wasn’t there. Just gone. I took a few more pictures, and it didn’t matter where I was, it just wasn’t there. I don’t know why I did it, but I turned the camera around to selfie mode and took a shot. 

That thing was standing right behind me.

One of its hands was hovering right over my shoulder, like it was about to touch me. I freaked out and took another picture. It hadn’t moved more than a hair. I turned all the lights on and haven’t slept. 

I’m not sleeping tonight. I’m not turning any of the lights off. It can’t get to me if the lights are on, or I hope so. If anyone knows what to do or what this thing is, please respond. It might already be too late, but I don’t know what this thing will do or who it’ll go for when it’s done with me. I don’t have much advice to give, other than to sleep with the fucking lights on.