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penguinbuttcheeks · 1 month

Text

Power - König x reader

summary: you’re a combat medic tending to könig’s wounds. könig can see the strength beneath the timid surface of your personality and decides to take the lead in helping you embrace it.

pairing: könig x medic!reader

cw: smut (MDNI!!), dominant könig, soft könig, afab anatomy (reader), fingering

word count: 2,378

as an afab person, i’ll probably be writing most smut (unless drabbles) with afab anatomy.

i don’t have the experience, nor knowledge to write mlm fics with amab anatomy and don’t want to contribute to harmful stereotypes due to my lack of knowledge- so any smut will be non specified on anatomy or female.

ALSO !! never written smut before this is SO out of my comfort zone lord help me

Gentle strokes and tender fingertips graze along the scarred flesh of König’s arm, steady in their movement, precise and confident.

It’s unusual that the giant before you was in your office to begin with, rarely allowing the medics to tend to his wounds. It was something that König usually cared for himself, preferring to rely on his own skill rather than the help of those around him.

It was just his luck that the wound requiring stitches was so awkwardly placed - the back of his bicep - too out of reach for his own hands to tend to.

You stood at his side, finishing the last remaining stitches while he sat silently in his chair, barely flinching each time the needle pierced through his flesh.

König's breath catches in his throat at your tender ministrations, the gentle caress of your fingers sending a shiver down his spine. He found himself captivated, his piercing gaze fixed on your face as you tended to his wound with such care.

"You have a... gentle touch," he murmured, the tender words sounding unfamiliar on his lips. Clearing his throat, he shifted slightly in the chair, his eyes darting away as if suddenly self-conscious. "Not what I expected from a field medic." Comes his now gruff voice.

You chuckle quietly, shoulders shaking ever so slightly.

“My hands were never made to bore blood. I’m much better with a stethoscope than I am a gun, though I admire the skill you possess on the field.” You explain softly, voice hushed as you focus on the task at hand.

“It’s something that I’ll never become quite as good at compared to my medical skills” you continue, voice still low in concentration as you finally tie the finishing knot to his stitching, turning to grab some medical gauze to begin wrapping it up.

König's brow furrows slightly under his sniper hood as he listened to your words, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his features.

"Ja, well..." he rumbled, his gaze falling to your hands as you began wrapping the gauze around his arm. "Different skills are needed for different tasks."

His eyes lingered on you for a moment, something almost akin to admiration in his expression. "But yours are just as valuable, medic." The gruff edges of his voice seemed to soften ever so slightly.

You pause momentarily, looking up at him before offering him a kind smile.

“Thank you” you thank appreciatively. “A lot of the time we get overshadowed. We may not have as intense a job as the soldiers, but we’re just as important. We tend to get forgotten in this line of work” you tell him truthfully. “It’s nice to hear that from time to time” you grin, stepping back to let König rise from his seat.

“You’re free to go now- I’m all done” you inform him, handing him a small capsule of medication.

“Take these if you start to feel any pain from your wound” are your final instructions before he silently leaves, nothing but a curt nod of appreciation sent your way.

The next time you see König is on your way to the KorTac mess hall a few days later.

You catch sight of the man as you see him walking in the other direction.

“Colonel König!” You call out to grab his attention, jogging to catch up with him. “How’s the arm?” you ask kindly, peering over at the bandaged area.

König paused mid-stride, his broad shoulders tensing ever so slightly at the sound of your voice. For a moment, he considered simply continuing on, but something in your tone gave him pause.

Turning to face you, he regarded you with a guarded expression, his piercing blue eyes sweeping over your form.

"It's healing," he rumbled, his voice low and gruff. Glancing down at the bandaged limb, his brow furrowed ever so slightly. "The stitches are holding." There was a hint of begrudging...appreciation in his tone.

You nod, a smile on your face at the news.

“I’m glad. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to check over it sometime to replace the bandaging and ensure that it’s healing well” you inform him, asking for permission to do so.

König felt an unfamiliar twinge in his chest at the warmth in your tone, your concern for his wellbeing catching him off guard. He cleared his throat, gaze shifting away momentarily.

"Ja, that would be...acceptable," he mumbled, the words sounding almost reluctant.

The hesitance in his voice makes you feel slightly uncertain in yourself, as if you’re overstepping a boundary that you shouldn’t be with the colonel.

You nod, giving him a tight smile.

“I’ll stop by sometime this evening when you’re not busy” you tell him, sending him a small nod.

König's eyes narrowed slightly at your reaction, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his face.

"As you wish, medic," he rumbled, his tone layered with a subtlety that belied his true nature.

Turning on his heel, he strode away, his steps purposeful and his bearing commanding, but as he walked there was a slight tension in his shoulders - one that had not been there before.

That evening, as promised, you made your way to König's quarters. The door swung open at your approach, revealing the imposing figure of the Austrian colonel. He stood there silently, his piercing gaze sweeping over you, sizing you up.

You’re startled slightly when König opens the door, neck craning as you lift your head to meet his gaze, his imposing figure towering over your much shorter one.

"Come in," he said gruffly, stepping aside to allow you entrance.

You step inside timidly while König closes the door behind him.

Unlike the other soldiers who were assigned to shared bunks, König was given a private room, his sleeping quarters merged with his office. A private luxury given to those of high status within KorTac.

König's leering gaze swept over you as you stepped into his private quarters, his eyes narrowing slightly. There was an intensity to his stare that was almost unnerving, as if he were silently assessing you.

"Sit," he commanded, gesturing towards a sturdy chair positioned near his desk. His tone left no room for argument.

Moving to comply, you couldn't help but notice the subtle interplay of muscle beneath the tight confines of his uniform. There was an undeniable power and grace to his movements that was both intimidating and oddly captivating.

"Well, Medic," he rumbled, his voice low and tinged with an undercurrent of something you couldn't quite place. "Let's see if your handiwork has held up."

As you settled into the chair, König moved to stand before you, his towering frame casting a shadow over your form. Wordlessly, he began to unwrap the bandage on his arm, exposing the angry red sutures that you had so carefully tended to the previous day.

König's eyes narrowed slightly as he scrutinized the wound, his weathered fingers gently probing the area. A low hum rumbled in his throat as he examined your handiwork.

"Hmm, not bad," he acknowledged almost begrudgingly, his gaze flickering to meet yours. There was a faint gleam of what might have been approval in his steel-blue eyes.

He swiftly sits down across from you. Leaning back in his chair, he regarded you in silence for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

He watches as you retrieve your small medical pack, gathering the materials you needed to redress the wound and sanitise it thoroughly.

"Tell me, Medic," he murmured, his voice low and rough-edged. "What else other than medicine have you learned in your time with Kortac?"

You stand, walking over to him to inspect the wound yourself, once again finding yourself in the same position a few days before in your medical room.

“I’ve seen you in training. I’ve learnt not to get on your bad side” you muse light heartedly, earning a quirked brow of amusement from König - not that you would have been able to see underneath the fabric of his mask.

“Ah, so you’ve learned that much at least” he rumbles, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. He continues to study you as you clean and dress his wound, silent gaze penetrating and unwavering. “And what else have you learned?” he presses, his tone low and almost…. Curious. “About yourself perhaps?”

His fingers drum against the arm oh his chair, the motion betraying a hint of restlessness. “Working with KorTac is no easy feat. It takes a… Certain kind of person to thrive here”

You nod in agreement, fingers gently brushing over his skin as you finish cleaning the wound, reaching for the fresh gauze to wrap it again.

“It is.” You quietly agree, eyes never leaving your hands as you continue your ministrations. “I realise now that my role as a medic is much better suited to me than that of a soldier. I found it challenging to be the one causing the destruction rather than healing it.” You confess honestly.

König’s eyes narrow as he listens to your confession, an unreadable glint flashing in his eyes.

“Is that so?” He murmurs, voice low and contemplative. Leaning forward in his chair, he studies you intently, now finished with his redressing and packing away your materials at his desk. “What is it you find so… Challenging about destruction?”

His finger trace the edge of his bandaging that you had so carefully wrapped around his arm, the touch almost deliberately sensual.

“Perhaps you haven’t found the right motivation.”

You pause, eyes watching carefully as his large finger traces the white gauze.

“I’m not sure I could ever find the motivation to encourage causing harm” you confess slowly, gaze never leaving his subtle movements as he fidgets with the dressing of his wound.

“Is that so?” He responds, a hint of challenge in his tone. Slowly, he rose from his chair, towering over you as he moved to loom over your smaller frame. “Perhaps I could show you” he breathes, face mere inches from yours.

Your eyes widen ever so slightly, stepping back as König raises to his full height.

The intensity of his gaze was overwhelming.

“What it truly means to be strong… To be powerful.” His large hand reaches out to trace the outline of your jaw, mimicking what he had just done with his freshly dressed wound.

“Show me how to be strong?” You repeat unsurely, wide eyes looking up at him with uncertainty.

König’s lips curl in to a predatory smile, his finger grazing your cheek once more.

“Ja, mein kleine” he purrs, voice low and soothing. “Let me show you the true meaning of strength.” His fingers move from your jaw, thick finger grasping at your chin, tightening ever so slightly.

“Power is not something to be feared liebling,” he hums, eyes scanning over your face to gauge your reaction. “It is something to be embraced… To be wielded”. Leaning in closer, he fixes you with an unwavering stare, gluing you in place where you stand. “I can teach you how to do that” His gaze drops down to your lips momentarily before flickering back up to meet your eyes. “If you’ll let me.”

That’s how you found yourself in your current situation, sat atop König’s waist - straddling him. Your legs rest on either side of his large body, his hungry eyes sweeping over your thighs that tremble, clenching down against his hips, his fingers buried deep inside you.

He curls them with deadly precision, making you cry out as you continue to ride his fingers.

“That’s it, mein süße" he purrs, low and rough. “Take what you need”

His thumb circles your sensitive nub, slow, agonising strokes, his piercing gaze locked on your face - watching intently for your every reaction.

“Show me how you pleasure yourself” he commands, voice thick with dark promise.

You whimper and mewl, hands planted flat against his chest for support, an embarrassed flush creeping up your neck and darkening your already red face.

You gasp and shudder increasing your tempo as you slowly gain confidence, slowly find a rhythm.

His thumb presses harder against your clit, rough, callous padded fingers sending delicious jolts of pleasure through your body.

“Don’t hold back” he commands. “I want to hear every shameless cry.”

You lower your head, eyes clenching shut as you continue to fuck yourself on his fingers, strangled cries breaching your lips as you allow yourself to get lost in the pleasure.

König’s eyes gleam with delight, his hand gripping at your hip tightly to guide your movements.

“Louder.”

You let out a sob, gummy walls clenching around his thick fingers as you near your climax. König’s expression darkens with savage delight as he watches you unravel above him, your desperate cries music to his ears.

His hand on your hip surges upwards, gripping your chin and raising your head to look at him, pupils blown wide and eyes half lidded.

“Look at me, mein süße"

“I want to see the ecstasy on your face as you come undone.”

Like an obedient dog at his command, you lose yourself in the pleasure of his touch and the warmth of his gaze. Your hips buck forward with each desperate thrust, tears of pleasure building behind your eyes and lips parted.

You look so beautiful unravelling above him.

Legs quivering and walls gripping König’s fingers buried deep inside your cunt, your orgasm washes over you. You moan loudly, arms trembling under your weight as you struggle to keep yourself upright, König’s fingers continuing to coax you through your release.

“That’s it, maus.”

“Let it all go.”

You’re panting heavily, body shaking as you open your eyes to meet König again.

There’s an unmissable glint of approval in the colonel’s eyes, drinking in the sight of your dishevelled form atop his lap.

He could get used to this.

Slowly, you lower yourself, laying yourself down- your chest pressed up against his.

He withdraws his fingers carefully, cautious to not overstimulate you further and bringing them up to his lips. A rumbling purr of satisfaction escapes his lips as he tastes you, savouring the flavour.

“You taste divine” he purrs, gaze still hungry and predatory.

“I think I shall have another helping…”

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itsscottiesstark · 5 months

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Excerpt from the fic I'll never write but my brain can't stop nagging me about:

It's the first few eps of season 3. Crowley and Aziraphale are definitely not on speaking terms. Forced to work together, there's only the occasional information sharing, or a mumbled comment here and there.

All that, until they start talking. And there's things to be said.

"I do remember begging you to come with me," Aziraphale stated, matter-of-factly.

"What you did was try and change me." Crowley spoke with so much venom in his voice, but it was only the first time in those 6000 years they'd spent together that venom was actually directed towards Aziraphale.

"I did not-"

"I don't need fixing, Aziraphale. I'm not some stray dog. I'm fine being the way I am and if you can't accept it-"

"I never-"

"Don't. Don't you dare deny it, I saw the way your whole face lit up when you thought I would be an angel again." Crowley was glad he didn't let his guard down enough to feel comfortable, so his glasses were still resting on his nose, guarding the last few shreds of sanity he had.

"Yes, but-"

"All those years, I thought you accepted me. I mean, not from the start, but at some point I really thought you had stopped seeing me as a demon and you only saw me as a- friend."

"I did," Aziraphale finally responded. He looked right into Crowley's eyes, as if the glasses weren't even there. He'd had a lot of practice.

"Well, forgive me if I don't believe you," Crowley mocked. Yes, that one stung.

"You would if you just let me finish." Crowley stared at him, raising his eyebrows slightly, indicating he was willing to listen. "Thank you. I didn't want you to change. I lo-" Aziraphale quickly bit back his words, deciding on the last minute to go another way about it. "I like you just the way you are. I prefer you just the way you are. The way you choose to be. All I wanted was for you- for us to be safe. And I would give everything to see you be as happy as you were when you were creating your nebula."

Crowley let a few seconds pass by before he finally spoke up again.

"I've been happier."

"When?"

"When I was with you."

#should i write this?#good omens #good omens fanfiction #crowley #aziraphale #crowley x aziraphale #good omens season 2 #good omens season 3 #david tennant #michael sheen #itsscottiesstark writes

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nburkhardt · 11 months

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My beloved baby Pikachu I bring Pokémon ideas~

Eddie as ghost type gym leader whose gym looks like a metal concert and he has his sweetheart strapped to his back at all times

Steve as a water/fighting type gym leader whose gym is half a pool. Everyone is surprised to find this guy in a soft pastel sweater, tight jeans, and the fluffiest hair is the leader. Until he brings put his nail bat as the battle starts.

Everyone thinks they hate each other because they seem polar opposite but no one notices the skull ring on Steve's left hand nor the soft purple sweater Eddie sometimes wears.

They're married your honor!

The Party is a group of newbie trainers that get taken under their wings of course.

🖤❤️🖤❤️🐼

AHHHHH!!! PANDA I LOVE YOU, I already freaked out in dms with you but I’mma say it again: I LOVE YOUR BRAIN, you get ALLLLL the forehead kisses 🥹🥹🥹 I’m sooo gonna ramble away. Maybe not a full fic but my god I’m obsessed. (It’s a full fic, with a surprise pov!)

We’re going to mix up all the gens together (so if you only know some Pokémon, I’ll include pictures at the bottom of the ones I mentioned)

ALSO: if you have any ideas for anyone else’s Pokémon, let me knowwwww.

Onto my rambling fic under the cut 🥰

Here’s the thing, when Dustin decided to take on the gym challenge, he had no idea what he was going to expect.

He didn’t think picking a grass type to start could both hurt and help him between each gym. But Snivy was a little spitfire and like him; dramatic. She didn’t like any of the nicknames he threw out at her. She also didn’t like her pokeball, instead she preferred to sit on his head.

All of his friends were also doing the challenge but he was getting distracted by figuring out more information on each Pokémon instead of just battling. They’re all ahead of him, which, is okay it’s annoying but’s fine.

Especially when he ran into Steve.

Dustin was supposed to take on the fairy gym next but he heard the leader was ruthless. So, he decided to train up a bit. Maybe even evolve Natu and Trapinch. But instead of that, he was grumbling as he carried his very much knocked out, Trapinch to the Pokémon center instead of battling more.

Servine was walking next to him now, too big for staying on top of him when walking. She was also grumbling in her own way, crossed arms and nose in the air.

“We’re trying to get them to evolve, Servine, not knock them out!” He threw out at her getting closer to the center, “can’t believe I let you get your way all the time”

She apparently didn’t like that information and huffed before walking away, which would normally be fine if they weren’t in a new town. So, instead of reaching the Center like he wanted, he turns around to follow her. Returning Trapinch to his ball for now.

“Come ON, Servine I didn’t mean it like that! You’re so good at everything but-” he immediately knocked into somebody and knocked to the floor, “fuck, ow. Dude!”

Looking up he finds a guy, probably in his early twenties with a Mimikyu sitting on his shoulder while a tiny Pumpkaboo floats next to him. Which is a weird combo with the dude’s outfit choice of a soft looking yellow sweater and light wash jeans. “Not my fault you weren’t looking, dude”

Dustin glares up at him before getting up and dusting his legs off, “hey! I’m only looking for my Pokémon, she ran off from me!” Looking around he can’t tell which direction she actually went in, “by any chance you from around here?”

The guy makes a funny assumed face, both ghost pokémon snicker as well- which is so confusing. But he’s not too concerned for that, more so about the fact that his goddamn starter ran off.

“Yeah, you could say I’m from around here. What’s the Pokémon? A tiny Bidoof? Oh or is it a little Oddish?” He laughs and makes a weird hand movement that clearly both ghosts know and move away, “they got a name? That’d be way easier”

Crossing his arms he looks away, “Servine, and no. She didn’t like anything I came up with, so”

The guy’s laugh dies down and he frowns, “what, were the names lame or-” he shakes his head, “you’re upset, sorry, I’m Steve. Let’s find your Pokémon instead of bickering”

“I’m Dustin, and- SERVINE!” His eyes widen as the tiny Pumpkaboo (seriously how is that Pumpkaboo that small?) leads his Servine towards them, “I’m sorry, seriously, you’re the best and that was uncalled for. Are you okay?”

Servine nods and curls into his arms. He doesn’t bother saying anything else to her, cuddles her close and turns to find Steve picking up Mimikyu and whispering to Pumpkaboo, “Thanks. Seriously”

Steve smiles, “no problem, Oz here is pretty good at finding things.” He looks at his watch before wincing, “I gotta run, we’re gonna be late. You at the fairy gym?”

What the- “how do you know?”

Steve gives another funny look before shrugging, “Got an eye for these things, anyway, next gym is ghost. Be wary of him, he’s a little, hm, much. Yeah?”

All he can do is nod and watch as Steve just walks away.

Fairy gyms are brutal, even with Trapinch evolving into Vibrava. His saving grace was Slugma and that was it still rough since it’s fire isn’t that effective against fairy.

Maybe he should’ve gone with more poison types.

But that was two days ago, and now he’s making his way towards the next town and their gym. He is wary. Not only because of what Steve told him but because of running into Lucas.

(Lucas had decided on a water type, Totodile. Which was a little surprising for Lucas but Dustin didn’t question it, the little Totodile was energetic and lovable.)

He was minding his own business trying to figure out whether or not he could, technically, learn how to speak in the Pokémon’s language. When a blue bundle ran towards him, looking around he spots Lucas trying to catch his breath. “Hey! I thought you would’ve been passed this one”

They play catch up and once it’s all been said and done, Lucas shows him where the gym is. It looks fairly normal on the outside but Lucas swears it’s a whole other world inside.

“It’s like a concert, and there’s an actual audience too! Which was overwhelming at first, but once I got my footing it was like they weren’t there” Lucas explains, stopping only once their in front of a normal looking gym, Lucas laughs and shakes his head, “yeah that was my first expression too. I think you’ll enjoy it. Might have a hard time”

He looks away from the building to raise an eyebrow at him, “what does that mean?”

“Dude you picked a grass type as your starter! And you have no dark types!”

Rolling his eyes, “thanks for the encouragement, I’m sure I could handle it. Even with the disadvantages.”

Lucas looked like he didn’t believe him, but it didn’t bother him. Their whole party looked at him funny when he went with a grass type. Hell, Max made fun of him for it.

It didn’t matter, the gym challenge is turning out to be nothing he wanted to do once he’s able. He wanted to be a professor anyway. This was just temporary, even if he gets beat a bunch of times.

Walking inside the gym, he bypasses the annoying tips guy at right next to the door and makes his way to find the actual battle area. Lucas gave him the directions, it was confusing he said.

Sure enough, there’s a goddamn maze and cords everywhere.

After what feels like hours, he makes it to the end and is faced with a stage. Cords and what looks like vines everywhere, sure enough a small audience is there too. It looks all badass and a mix between rock and metal.

As he opens his mouth the lights go away and he has to immediately cover his ears as a loud beat starts. There’s a guitar being played even louder, clearer too. A spot light hits the stage and now he knows who’s playing.

Standing in the middle of the stage is a man. Long frizzy hair, leather jacket over a t-shirt with a band on it, ripped black jeans and black shoes. His guitar really completes the look, red with black lines all over.

The guy plays for a few minutes before stopping and walking closer, “Welcome to my metal concert, you ready for your ass to be handed to you?”

Right as he’s about to open his mouth a little orange and brown blur pops up behind the gym leader, it looks oddly familiar.

The man follows his gaze and groans, shifting his guitar to his back and focusing on the tiny Pokémon next to him, “Ozzy, we talked about this! Either stay in your ball, off the battle field or at home.”

Dustin blinks, moving closer he finds that the tiny Pokémon is a Pumpkaboo. That’s definitely moving and saying something back, which makes the guy shake his head before glancing around.

“Uh-“

“Hold on, I’m trying to find- HONEY LOVE! Come get your child!”

There’s no movement but he hears a snort, then the tiny Pokémon moves away and he sees the gym leader shake his head again, “sorry, that little guy is only a baby. Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

The guy’s smile is wild and maybe Lucas was right.

An hour later and Dustin is sitting on the edge of the stage freshly beat and definitely ready to call it quits for the day.

“Did Eds give you a rough time?”

His head snaps up, there’s Steve with Mimikyu on his head and a Vaporeon sitting next to him.

“I just need to do some more training.” He doesn’t want to admit that yes, the gym leader, Eddie, definitely gave him a rough time. It was fun, but Eddie was even more brutal than the fairy gym.

Maybe he just needs to catch a dark type.

Steve nods slightly, making Mimikyu squeak. “Doesn’t hurt to train more, V here” he pats the Vaporeon’s head, causing a pur to happen, “wasn’t the greatest battler, we had to do lots of training. Before you do any of that, want to come have dinner with us? You and your Pokémon can all rest for the night”

Dustin can’t figure out how he didn’t put two and two together. He feels like an idiot right now.

“What do you mean you’re also a gym leader? The final one at that?! Why didn’t you tell me?!”

Steve snorts, putting his hands in his pockets as he leads them to a house, “not my fault you didn’t pay attention when the professor talked about the gym challenge to you.”

Crossing his arms he glares at the ground, “yeah well, Professor Owens forgets shit. How is it you’re the water gym leader yet have a ghost type with you?”

There’s an amused smirk on Steve’s face and what sounds like a giggle come from Mimikyu, “I might specialize with water types, I do have a fond experience with ghost types. And dude, it’s okay to try catching other types. I just so happen to work better with water types. Queen here was a gift, basically, my partner found an egg and gave it to me.”

He nods because Steve’s right, it is nice to use all different types. Though if he did only pick one, grass or bug type is where he’d stick with.

“Alright” Steve smiles and comes to a stop, “we’re here, once we get inside you can let your Pokémon out.” He leads them up to a door and Dustin takes in the mixture of aesthetics.

There’s clearly two different personalities living in this house, whoever Steve’s partner is, definitely enjoys the darker aesthetic compared to Steve. Who gives off a more pastel aesthetic. Not that he fully knows, he’s still going off or how Steve is dressed.

“Hey baby, I brought a guest!”

They both hear a crash and then a curse. A Gengar floats out of the kitchen and snickers as it stops in front of Steve, “What did you do?”

“He’s over the moon for beating up a Nin- woah! Honey love, you brought the kid I just beat?”

Blinking hard because there’s no way, Dustin also rubs his eyes before looking over at the kitchen doorway. His vision clears and yep, there’s the gym leader, Eddie, standing there in a pastel purple sweater and black sweats with his Decidueye leaning behind him.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, seriously?”

Steve outright laughs and pats his shoulder, “dude, you’re face. Oh man, should’ve taken a picture.” He moves closer to Eddie and presses a kiss to his cheek, “He looked so sad after the defeat, I had to.”

Eddie shakes his head, amusement clear on his face, “Honey, you gotta warn people when you bring them over. Even if they look like a kicked Eevee”

He scruffs and looks away from the couple to find the Pumpkaboo, Ozzy apparently, next to him. It makes him groan, “I’m an idiot, you’re the one who found Servine!”

Ozzy nods excitedly before floating down and nudges his bag, confused he opens it and Ozzy dances around him. He’s curious and looks over at the couple, “uh, what?”

“He’s asking you to let your Pokémon out, they’ll enjoy some play time and food.” Eddie answers and looks at the time, “which is done by the way. Come on, let them out and we’ll give you some tips”

Shrugging, he does just that, all his Pokémon looking around curiously before spotting the backdoor where Ozzy and Steve are now in front of. All of them rush over and Steve laughs before opening the door, letting all of his Pokémon outside.

“Don’t worry, we got a fence and there’s food already out there.”

He can only nod and watch as his Pokémon all play together with Steve’s and Eddie’s Pokémon.

Dustin doesn’t know how he ended up here, honestly, he’s sitting inside a home that belongs to two gym leaders. Who are not only two of the strongest ones but also married to each other. Of all the things he was learning, this might’ve been the most surprising.

————

I’m gonna end it there because if I keep going this post will be stupid long (it already is 😅) BUT!! I decided to make this into a series!! It’ll be a fun one that I could write and post whenever I want. Can switch up povs and everything this way. Please don’t ask me why I went with Dustin’s pov this time around, I don’t even know. I just..kept going.

Anyway! If you enjoyed this let me know what you think and if you have any ideas/suggestions you can totally leave me some!!

Taglist: (sorry if you don’t like Pokémon 😂)

@spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @bookworm0690 @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @strangersteddierthings

Here’s the graphs of the Pokémon I have mentioned and also the full teams of the main three (Dustin, Steve & Eddie) and also Lucas’ totodile (didn’t come up with his full team)

#steddie #pokemon au #steddie fic #dustin henderson fic #Dustin will be a Pokémon professor someday #for now he’s that kid at every start of the games that goes ‘SCIENCE IS AMAZING’#stranger things fic #nburkhardt writes #strangers things and Pokémon au #steve x eddie #tbh idk how to tag this

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foreverrogers · 2 years

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parallel suns (1/4)

part one // part two // part three // part four

Pairing: steve harrington x f!buckley!reader

Summary: it's summer break, and you need something, or someone, to fill the time with before you go back to college.

Warnings: smut!!!! 18+!!!!! minors please DNI!!!!! friends with benefits, protected sex, oral (f receiving), steve is an adorably charming idiot. post-s3, pre-s4. no s4 spoilers!!

Words: 7.4k (!!!)

A/N: this fic came to me in a vision and i'm in love with it. big shout out to my notes app where i compulsively wrote 1.2k of this at 10pm. also shout out to the song partner in crime by lucy dacus because i am, once again, on my indie song title bullshit

request something! masterlist // series masterlist

Everything is sticky.

The humidity shimmers in the air like it's about to take corporeal form, and even with every AC unit in this Family Video on full blast, everything is utterly, disgustingly sticky.

It's one of the many things Steve hates about Summer. That, and school being on break means the store is always full of children, who are sticky all year round and only get stickier in the Summer, and teenagers, who embody the kind of sticky that tries to sneak into the adult section when they think no one is looking.

It's eight pm, the unforgiving sun just starting to glow yellow and orange at the horizon, and it's about the time Steve lets Robin go home so he can close up for nine.

He doesn't question it when she doesn't bolt out of the store on the hour like she normally does, desperate to go home even if she did prefer Steve's company over most others.

There's a slight jingle of the bell as the front door opens, but Steve is too busy taking his 10-minute break sitting on the floor behind the counter to get up, legs stretched end to end.

Somebody's above him, all of a sudden, announced by two sharp knocks against the counter, and when Steve looks up the backlight of the setting sun makes him think he's seeing an angel. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah," Robin mutters, hops off her stool and dips down to yank at the backpack sitting at her feet. "Bye, Steve!"

"Woah, woah, woah," Steve starts, so disorientated by the speed of everything that Robin's already slipped behind the counter before he's even thinking of standing up. Steve scrambles to his feet so quickly he almost slips on the linoleum. "Hey, Rob, you're not gonna introduce us?"

You've already taken a step back, and Steve's words stop Robin in her hurried tracks with a sigh. She looks between you, exaggerated turns in each direction, and sighs again. "Steve, this is my sister," She explains, matter of fact, not offering any other information than strictly necessary.

"You never told me you had a sister."

"You didn't?" You ask immediately, faux offense pinching your eyebrows as you look at her. You nudge her in the ankle with the toe of your boot. "Rude."

"Well," Robin starts, pointed as she looks at him. "You clearly don't ask about me as much as you talk about yourself, Steve."

"Hey, I do not- Don't listen to her," Steve cuts Robin to the side, turns to you with an outstretched hand and his cookie-cutter charming smile. It's a perfected art form you don't seem to buy. "I'm Steve, by the way. Steve Harrington."

"Seems like I've heard a lot more about you than you've heard about me, Steve," You smile, lean forward to shake his hand.

Steve thinks he likes the way you say his name. He also thinks your hand in his is warm, but the nice, soft kind of warm, and not the sticky Summer kind of warm he's gotten used to. He also hopes his hand isn't sticky. "All good things, I hope?"

You hum as you pull away, tilt your head to the side and narrow your eyes, your expression questioning. "Like 60%?"

"Okay, well, this has been nice, but we really have to go," Robin interrupts, looks to you then to Steve and gives him a single nod before she's gone, tugging at your wrist and pulling you with her.

"It was nice to meet you!" You call, turn a little to wave as your sister drags you through the door and into the carpark.

Steve's still not convinced you're not an angel, and spends so long staring after you that it takes him a couple minutes to realise you had never told him your name.

-----

Tonight is a different type of sticky. The type that only happens when it rains all day and the moisture hangs oppressively heavy, like you could drown where you stood if you weren't careful.

Which is why Steve can't be blamed for spending most of his free time standing in front of the huge air conditioner in the back room, letting the cool air bellow out his polo and his vest until he's almost too cold. It's a pretty good plan, except for the fact he can't be stationed at the counter waiting for beautiful women to walk into the store like he normally is.

When Steve emerges from the back room, there's a beautiful woman in the store.

Not that he can tell she's beautiful by the back of her head poking through the aisles of the romance section, it's just that he has a feeling... and it's been a couple weeks since he's been on a good date.

So, as always, Steve stands behind the counter and runs a hand through his hair, tussled and unruly by the effects of the fan, uses the darkened monitor of the computer as a mirror as he adjusts the sit of his collar and smoothes down his Family Video vest. It's the exact shade of dark puke green that always seemed to be a hit with the ladies.

He makes a 90-degree turn, back to the front of the shop, and all of a sudden there you are.

Steve gapes a little, turns left and then right and realises you're the only other person in the store. Oh.

"Hey!"

You're grinning now, too. Which doesn't help. "Hey to you, too."

"Did you, uh-" Steve clears his throat, walks towards you and slides the tape you've set on the counter towards him, pointedly ignores the fact you had just watched him check himself out in a computer monitor for any excruciating amount of time. "Did you find everything you need?"

"Just that, I think," You chuckle, still fighting back your smile as you cross your arms and lean them against the counter.

"16 Candles?" Steve asks, finally actually reading the cover of the film in his hands.

Your smile softens, a little fonder. "Yeah, Rob and I watched it like a million times the year it came out. I thought it would be a nice surprise."

"Really?" He asks, disbelief in his smile and the light pinch of his eyebrows. "Robin? 16 Candles?"

"I don't know what to tell you," You shrug, give a light shake of your head. "Everyone's got a guilty pleasure, her's is romance movies... And if you ever tell her I told you that I will make your life a living hell."

Steve thinks he's already experienced multiple living hells, but is still intrigued about what your could come up with. "Scouts honour," He offers, holds up the palm of one hand and presses the copy of 16 Candles to his heart with the other.

It makes you laugh, and Steve has to smile at the sight before he can remember he's supposed to be doing his job. You really might be an angel.

"And the name the account's under?" He asks, thinks he's smooth and is immediately told otherwise by the way you narrow amused eyes at him, the tug of a smile at the corner of your lips.

"Robin really didn't mention me at all, huh?"

"I really don't talk about myself that often, I promise."

You chuckle lightly, smile bright, eyes bright, makes the neon lights pooling in splotches of wet concrete outside look dim.

You're smile fades a little as the seconds go on, as you hold each other's eyes and Steve really hopes he's not staring right now because his face and his brain have lost all connection.

"Y/n," You offer, simply, and Steve was definitely staring because it takes him a moment to register that the sound that came out of your mouth had been your name.

"Y/n, right," He says, snaps himself out of it, maybe a little too animated in the way he shakes his head if the laugh you give him as he looks down is any indication.

Steve bites his lip as he clacks the letters of your name into the heavy keyboard, intensely concentrated. It's adorable, objectively, and you try not to let it pull anything too world-shattering from your gut into the base of your throat. You swallow it down when he meets your eyes again. "Last name?"

You grin at him immediately, simply raise your eyebrows and wait the few moments it takes him to realise what he's saying, tilts his head to the side with a tight smile as he moves to type in the rest of your name. "Right."

"What do I owe you?" You ask, lean a little closer against the counter, close enough that he can smell the sweet floral of your perfume or your shampoo or both.

"On the house."

"Really?" You start, raise your eyebrows at him. "Thank you... Do all the friends and family get discounts?"

"Just the pretty ones," Steve says, mouth and maybe libido moving too quickly for his brain to catch, words spilling and falling flat on the counter between you.

You're smiling again, gleeful surprise as much towards his admittance as the deep blush that rushes into his face as he realises exactly what he's said.

"I mean-"

"Nuh-uh, can't take it back now," You tease, sliding the tape off of the counter towards you and taking a slow step backwards. He's still mouthing at words to say, and so you take the opportunity to turn and start out of the store. You hold the tape up in the air beside you. "Thank you for the movie, Steve!"

-----

"Hey, why did you never mention me to Steve?"

You're in the middle of 16 Candles. Admittedly, it's not the best time to ask your sister about anything tangible, but something about the cheesy teen romance couldn't let you stop thinking about it. It takes her a few moments to answer, and you're about to repeat yourself when she gives back the uninterested "Why would I?"

"I don't know, the way you were talking about him it sounded like you two were basically best friends... Seems like pretty standard information to know about your best friend."

She shoves a messy fist full of popcorn in her mouth before answering. "It just never came up I guess."

"Right..." Robin still hasn't turned away from the movie, and you still haven't turned back, eyes narrowed at her profile. "So you told him you were a lesbian before you told him you had a sister?"

"Jesus Christ, y/n, fine!" Robin dramatically bends at the waist, reaches over to the coffee table for the remote and pause the movie. "He's a womanizer, okay? I knew that if I told him I had a sister, especially one who was basically the same age as him, he would never let it go and inevitably try to hit on you when you came to visit."

You scoff. "Hate to break it to you, babe, but him not knowing I exist has definitely not stopped him from hitting on me."

Robin's silent for a long moment, gapes at you in the dim light, and you think you can physically see the steam pouring out of her ears as her blood boils. "Y/n."

"What?"

"What did he say to you?"

"What, seriously?" You shake your head, turn back to the paused television screen in a sudden desire to no longer be having this conversation. "It was nothing bad, perfectly kosher. You should have seen the way he was blushing, though. Are you sure that guy gets around as much as you think he does?"

"He tells me about most of them in excruciating detail, so, you know, yeah." You feel her shift back towards the TV, pick up the remote at her side with a sigh. "Just don't fall for it, okay?"

You should let it go, because it shouldn't matter, and you shouldn't care. "What, you don't think he's a good guy?" You're looking at her again, trying to read the shadows of her expression. "You wouldn't be friends with him if he wasn't a good guy."

"Look, I say this with no offence to Steve but he's a Hawkins, Indiana good guy. He's not a New York, smartest girl in her class type of good guy."

You consider it for a moment, clench your jaw as you slide down the couch so you can only just see the screen over your bent knees. "It sounds like you're trying to say he's a 'literally anybody but you' kind of good guy."

"Yeah," Robin smiles, voice warm. "Glad we're on the same page."

-----

You think that maybe being told not to give in to Steve Harrington's fumbled, boyish charm just makes you want a taste even more.

Not that you went out of your way to do the things Robin told you not to, nor were you typically the type of person who wanted what they couldn't have. It's just that you had spent so long trying to be good, trying to get the best grades and get into the best schools and be the best adult, that now, during a Summer that should be inconsequential to the course of your life, you want to try something new. That, and every word and lingering glance you had received from him over the past couple of days had practically screamed how much he wanted you, and it was hard to deny that it was exhilarating.

No matter the way you try to reason it, nothing changes the fact that you're in an empty Family Video at 9am.

It's early enough that when Steve sees you pushing open the door he thinks he might still be dreaming. "Oh, y/n, hey! Hey, how are you?" Steve runs a loose hand through his hair, adjusts his position leaning against the counter a couple too many times to be natural. He flinches, hopes you don't register his fumbling. You definitely do. "Uh, Robin's not working today."

"Yeah, I know," You smile, innocent and polite, move to lean beside him on the counter with your forearms against the cool acrylic. You pick at your nails for a moment before turning towards him, but you realise as soon as you do that you've undershot your position a little, faces are a lot closer than you had intended. Still, you don't back away. "I'm here to see you."

Steve swallows, throat thick and chest fluttering with the proximity. "You are?" He mutters, doesn't have to say it that loudly for you to hear because you're that damn close. His voice is a little squeakier, too, like his body had suddenly forgotten it had already hit puberty five years earlier. He clears his throat, once again hopes you don't notice. Once again, you do.

"So..." You start, look back down at your nails because even though you had fully psyched yourself up to do this, you hadn't quite realised eye contact would be part of the deal. "I'm sure you know that I'm only in town for the Summer, which means I just so happen to have a lot of free time and also... just so happen to not have a boyfriend..."

Steve thinks he's hallucinating. Thinks that there must be something in the water and his sweating palms and dry mouth and tight chest are all symptoms of something awful. Either that or his mind is infinitely dirtier than he thought, because there was no way in Hell you were actually suggesting what he thinks you're suggesting. "I think I need... a little more."

"Oh, come on, Stevie," You start, tilt your head at him, and the combination of the nickname and the way you're looking up at him through your lashes makes his jeans tighten inexplicably. "You gotta have a couple brain cells knocking around that pretty little head of yours."

Steve pinches himself. Actually, physically pinches his arm to make sure he's not dreaming. He's staring again, and he's also a little speechless, silent for long enough that you start to second guess yourself.

"Unless you don't want-"

"No, no, no. Woah, no, definitely not. I definitely don't... not want to..." His hand is on your wrist before you can pull away, position shifted so he's now standing right in front of you, parallel suns across the counter. "I just, uh, wasn't sure that I was getting the right idea for a second."

"Yeah, I, um-" You look down, your well of confidence seemingly exerted too fast too soon. Your cheeks are hot with it. "Robin made it seem like you were pretty, uh... Loose about this type of stuff."

"She said that?" Steve scoffs, makes you look back up at him and the expression on his face is so genuinely offended it makes you laugh. "I can't believe she would- Wait, did you... tell her? About-"

"No!" You interrupt, eyes wide. "No, absolutely not. And Robin never knows, okay? Ground rule?"

"Yeah, right, of course," He agrees, and he registers suddenly that you're two people standing in the middle of a Family Video first thing in the morning defining the terms of casual sex.

"Not so much because she would get mad at me, but because I genuinely think she might cut your dick off."

Steve laughs, does that thing where he tilts his head to the side in a nod that's annoyingly endearing. "Yeah, I could see her trying."

You're both smiling, and you're both so close, his hand on your wrist still anchoring you to the counter. You chew at the inside of your lip, try to suppress some of the heat rising to your face. "This is a really weird conversation, right?"

"Possibly the weirdest I've ever had, yeah." And Steve has had a lot of fucking bonkers conversations.

There's a glint of light across your lipgloss as your smile widens, fresh and sticky and shining and all of a sudden Steve realises you wore it for him, and then all of a sudden wants to know what it tastes like.

You lean forward slowly, like you can read his mind or maybe you're just thinking the same thoughts, the curve of your lips deliciously tempting. "Steve."

"Yeah?" He asks, less of a word and more of a pitched exhale. He thinks he can feel your breath against his skin.

"You have customers."

You pull away, stand up straight just as the front bell rings and a gaggle of children storm into the store, followed begrudgingly by the slow steps of two exhausted looking parents. Steve pulls away, too, clears his throat in an attempt to regain his composure as he offers a tight smile to the two adults.

You're grinning, annoyingly and yet endearingly triumphant.

"That was mean."

"No idea what you're talking about," You start, shake your head with a shrug and a step away from the counter. You try to bite back your smile, bottom lip lightly pulled between your teeth. "Are you doing anything tonight?"

"Oh, you know." Steve gestures around the store, attention immediately pulled to a crashing sound somewhere to his side, like piles of hard plastic falling to the floor.

"You should go do your job," You tease, nod towards the source of the noise and make Steve narrow his eyes at you. "And I will be back at nine."

-----

True to your word, by the time nine pm rolls around you're already leaning against the hood of his car, watching carefully as he locks the door to the darkened Family Video.

You've changed, a light skirt that sits just below the knee to match the humid Summer night. Steve's first thought is accessible, and he immediately scolds himself for it.

"Hey," You smile, voice sickly smooth, sticky and seeping into his bones.

"Hey." He returns, finds it a little less graceful than yours because he's nervous, the kind of nervous that would probably make his chest shake if he stood still for too long. He doesn't think he's been this nervous around a girl since he first got together with Nancy.

"Fun rest of your shift?" You ask, even though you have a pretty good idea of what he might say, kick off the car and make a slow start towards him.

"A painful one, thanks to you."

The admittance makes you smile, too smug and too pretty as you look up at him, height difference exaggerated as you meet him at the curb. He tries not to look at your lips, but your lipgloss is fresh, and he still wants to know what it tastes like.

"My place or yours?"

"Are your parents home?"

Steve scoffs, a little offended. "What makes you think I live with my parents?"

"Oh," You start, eyes widening with something like surprise, embarrassment, maybe a little bit of both. "Do you... not live with your parents?"

"No, I absolutely live with my parents. And no, they're not home, by the way. I think I just resent the implication that-"

"Oh my god," You turn, walk towards the passenger side of his car with a shake of your head. You stand with a grasp on the handle, waiting for him to follow. "If you still wanna get laid tonight you better get in the freaking car, idiot."

"Wow," Steves says, keeps playing his mock offence but starts towards the car anyway. He digs his hand into his pocket in search of his keys. "I guess there's just something about you Buckleys and being mean to me."

You swing the door open as soon as it's unlocked, fall in with enough force to make the vehicle bounce lightly on its wheels. "Car, Steve!"

-----

You've made it this far without any hiccups. Without any bad omens descending from the heavens as a sign that this was all a bad idea.

If anything it felt too good to be true, a ridiculously handsome, charming boy with a genuine interest in you, complete with a mega fancy house and parents who were never in town. Then there was the tiny fact that he was your sister's best friend, but you tried not to think about that one too hard.

"What do we do now?"

Steve's moving to sit beside you at the foot of his bed, soft notes of music drifting from his cassette player slowly filling the background.

You smile at him, at the earnestness in his voice and the wide, open hope in his expression. It makes your chest ache so much you have to change the subject.

"Before anything, I just wanted to say..." You adjust your position, angle yourself to better face him. Steve looks terrified of what you're next move is, and it almost makes you laugh. "I don't know what you did to make Robin trust you enough to tell you... you know... But I just thought I would tell you that I appreciate it. I was really worried at first, about leaving her for so long with nobody else who really, actually knew her... It's just nice to know there's someone watching her back."

Steve wasn't exactly sure what he thought you were going to say, but it certainly wasn't that. It's a gesture that warms him through, not that he would ever admit that to Robin. "Yeah, no, of course. Thank you."

You offer him a gentle smile, nodding lightly as you lean back against your palms. You sigh like you're almost reluctant to keep going. "You're a pretty cool dude, Steve."

"I know," He says, response immediate, does that tilt thing again and proceeds to give you the smuggest smirk you've ever seen. "But thank you for reminding me."

"Oh, shut up," You mutter, nudge him lightly in the knee with your own and roll your eyes, can't help the smile that blooms across your face as he leans towards you.

"What?" He asks, accusatory, smiling, so close you can feel the fan of his warm breath against your skin. "I was agreeing with you."

"Steve," You say, try and almost succeed at pulling a serious face.

He's looking at your lips again, doesn't meet your eyes as he continues. "Yeah?"

"Stop talking."

Strawberry. That's the first thought Steve has when you kiss him, impossibly soft lips moving against his, turning his brain to fuzz in an instant.

It's all instinct from that point on, when he slots one hand around your waist and brings the other beneath your ear, thumb brushing against your cheek and opening you up for him.

"What?" You laugh, breathe it between sweet, sticky kisses.

"What?"

"You said something, I couldn't hear you."

Steve is only half paying attention, too busy pressing you back until your back hits the mattress. Oh.

"Strawberry," He repeats, hadn't realised he had said it out loud the first time. "Your lip gloss. It tastes like strawberry."

"That's what you're thinking about right now?" You're grinning at him, smile too wide to keep kissing and so Steve takes the opportunity to trail along your jaw, dips down to follow the column of your throat until he hears you sigh.

"It's not the only thing I'm thinking about," He mutters, presses curved lips to the crook of your neck and focuses on the spot.

Your breath is coming out a little heavier, your fingers tangling into his hair as he continues the gentle assault on your neck, but you try to keep up. "Care to share with the class?"

"Well," Steve starts, hands wandering downward to start to bunch up the bottom of your shirt. "I'm thinking about taking this off, for one."

Your position at the foot of your bed is a little awkward to manoeuvre, so Steve takes the opportunity to slowly stand over you, plants one last sloppy kiss to the dip of your throat before he's on his knees.

It makes you gasp, the sudden shift and the sight of him between your legs as he kisses the soft flesh of your stomach he's exposed. "I'm thinking about how fucking warm you are, and how soft your skin is." He leans back, moves to sit on his heels and brings one of your knees up to sit over his shoulder. The position makes the light fabric of your skirt fall back, bunches at the top of your thighs and leaves the cotton of your panties just hidden from his line of sight. He kisses the inside of your knee, one strong hand grasping the outside of your thigh, doesn't tear his eyes away from yours the entire time. "And I'm thinking about what other parts of you must taste like."

"Jesus Christ," You mutter, fall back against the mattress and look up at the ceiling because this might just be the best stupid decision you've ever made.

Steve chuckles, a deep reverberation that sends aftershocks through your body where his lips are still connected to your skin. "Are you gonna let me find out, sweetheart?"

"Jesus Christ," You say again, because what else are you supposed to say to something like that. You press up on your elbows, look down to see Steve already smiling at you, still annoyingly smug. "You can't just go around saying shit like that."

"Is that a yes?" He asks, and if there was any doubt in your mind all would be resolved by the feeling of his hand snaking under your skirt, fingers slipping just under the hem of your underwear.

"Please, yes. Fuck."

In any normal circumstance, you might register the fact that the two of you are still fully clothed, at the very least take off your shirts before you let another person take off your underwear. But this wasn't just any normal circumstance, and in that moment any force that could delay the feeling of his mouth on your cunt was sorely unwelcome.

Steve makes it slow, draws it out for as torturously long as he can before you're starting to squirm beneath him. He leans back, just so he can start to tug your panties down your legs, goosebumps rising at every tiny point of contact until the flimsy fabric has slipped to the floor.

Steve doesn't think he'll ever get over the way you say his name, not when he's heard it like this, the heady whine of it he earns with the first contact of his mouth on your clit.

Your hand is in his hair immediately, fingers threading through the thick strands and pressing him closer toward you, needing everything closer, craving everything impossibly closer than you could get it.

The tug isn't purposefully, simply another involuntary response your body gives at the feeling of him sucking your clit between his lips, along with your gasp and the arch of your back and the flex of your thighs. It does, however, pull something guttural out of his throat, the hum of it pressed against you sending a sharp shock of pleasure up your spine.

You say his name again, choked and frayed as it escapes through ragged breaths.

Steve pulls away, cruelly, awfully, leaves you hot and aching as he presses slick lips to the inside of your thigh. He kisses along, down, back up again, leaves behind quick little nips you're sure will leave marks tomorrow.

You laugh, a little because it tickles and mostly because you're not sure a guy has ever made you feel this good in your life, and this was only the crescendo.

"It's dangerous laughing at the guy who hasn't made you cum yet..." Another nip, quickly soothed by the warmth of his tongue. "Unless you wanna finish the job by yourself."

It just makes you laugh harder, knees coming up a little to close together and Steve has to tighten his grip to bring them back down. "No, no, no," You start, out of breath for multiple reasons, and when you look down at him he's grinning back at you, inexplicable and bright and beautiful. You comb your hand through his hair and bite your lip, slowly trying to tug him back towards you. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I won't laugh, promise. Just keep going."

Steve hides his smile back against the inside of your thigh, leaves one last mark. "Are you gonna ask nicely? I think it's the least I deserve after-"

"Fine! Fine, Jesus," You laugh, even though you had just promised you wouldn't, take a moment to compose something resembling a serious expression, make your best wide, innocent eyes at him. You give his hair a harsh tug. "Please make me cum, Steve."

And it has been a joke when he said it, but hearing the words come out of your mouth doesn't sound so funny anymore. The only thing hearing them does is make the strain in his pants exponentially tighter and brings his mouth back to you in an instant.

It's harsher, this time, relentless in the movement of his tongue and his lips over your clit. This time there's no mercy when it's too much, when you try to squirm and lessen the intensity of it all, the arm hooked around your thigh moving to spread over your pelvis and keep your hips in place as he works at you.

You try not to look at him, think as soon as you do the sight alone might be enough to make the rapidly growing well of heat in the pit of your stomach overflow. You can't help it though, when you feel the pads of his fingers start to tease at your entrance, tests the waters and let's another hum slip through when he finds you already dripping wet.

Your eyes meet his, and Steve gets to watch the look on your face as he presses two fingers into the sopping heat.

Steve wants that face burned into the inside of his retinas, wants to see it every time he closes his eyes and relive the feeling of your cunt clenching around his fingers. Your entire body is wound tight, he can feel it in his hand still spread over your hip and the flex of your thighs, sees it clear as day in the contortion of your face, and every point of tension is heightened tenfold when he starts to curl those fingers inside you.

You say his name again, different this time, pleading and needy and you want to let go so bad. Want to dispel all this energy into the universe and feel the waves of it drown you, crave the relief of that first deep breath of bliss that fills your lungs.

"I've got you, baby," Steve mutters, like he can read your mind or maybe he's just good at reading the cues, nods the best he can while still pressed against you when you look at him.

It snaps, like being cut loose, doesn't take much more of his mouth and fingers to have you falling and falling and falling.

That. That way you say his name. He's not sure you'll be able to top that.

Your hand slips out of his hair, meets your other one as you stretch out against the mattress with a sigh, a slow shiver creeping up your spine. "Jesus fucking Christ." You close your eyes and you laugh, because it's the only response you find fit enough for that.

"Now, what's funny?"

There's a mess against your thigh when Steve pulls his fingers away, slick and saliva melting on your skin as he slowly moves to crawl back up your body.

You open your eyes as soon as you feel his face hovering over yours, grinning and sloppy and hazy. You don't answer, say enough in the way you kiss him and wrap your arms tightly around his neck, welcome the taste of yourself on his tongue and the harsh squeeze he gives to your hip. "God, you're so fucking pretty."

You smile, catch him in another quick kiss, tugging his bottom lip between your teeth as you pull back away. "Funny, I was about to say the exact same thing." And it's true, because his hair is a mess and his face is flushed and you don't think anyone has ever been prettier.

"You think I'm pretty?" He asks, smug again, dips down to kiss the peak of your jaw.

"Like you haven't been called a pretty boy your whole life, pretty boy."

Steve gives you a lopsided grin and somehow becomes prettier. "And I never get sick of hearing it."

Steve kisses you, presses his smile to yours and waits until you're lucid enough to kiss him back. It's softer, for a little while, gentle in the way he cups your cheek and soothes the skin there with his thumb. It's you who deepens it, chases it as you bring your hand to the hem of his shirt. "Too many clothes."

You're right, of course; the two of you are still entirely clothed save for your underwear, a sore fact that Steve immediately moves to rectify, tugs his own shirt off and starts on the buttons of your blouse before you even register it.

"Careful, Jesus," You giggle, worried he might break a button, but even that's short-lived by the hasty urgency with which he takes off your shirt.

You have to sit up to let him slip the fabric down your arms, and as soon as you do he kisses you again, mumbles something unintelligible against your lips before his hands are at your waist and pushing you up the bed. "That's better."

You gape at him, not that he notices, too busy with looking down to work at the button of his jeans and kick them off.

He freezes when he meets your eyes again, reads the expression on your face. "What?"

"I can't believe I just got manhandled by Steve 'the hair' Harrington."

Steve sighs, dips his head into your neck so you can't see the deep blush that only exacerbates the condition of his face. "She told you about that?" He asks, muffled, oozing embarrassment, and it makes you laugh again.

"She absolutely did."

Steve nips at the crook of your neck, makes you gasp, and you're about to keep teasing him when he brings his face back to yours. "Let's change the subject?"

"To what?" You ask, smiling, tilt your chin up at him.

"To how perfect your boobs are and how much I want to fuck you right now."

You hum against him when he kisses you, effectively shutting you up as he takes a handful of your clothed breast and squeezes. His other hand slides up the outside of your thigh, hooking your leg around his waist, and with how close he's pressing against you you can feel just how hard he is. "A gentleman."

Steve smiles, presses one last heated kiss to your lips before he's leaning over you, dragging open the top drawer of his bedside table.

You take the opportunity to watch him, take in the solid, carved muscle of his stomach, the mass of dark chest hair, the flex of his bicep as he reaches for the small foil packet.

You want to touch him, and then you realise that you can, kiss him hard as soon as you can, hands slipping around the side of his waist to pull him in before gliding down his front.

The first inch of your fingers under the hem of his boxers makes him gasp, nodding when your eyes search his, asking for permission to dip further.

"Fuck," He mutters, squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and has to shake the fog in his brain loose, looks down to where he can just see the slow twist of your hand in his boxers. "You ready?"

You take the cue, remove your hand and mutter a quiet, "Yeah," before he's kissing you, kisses you and kisses you as he kicks off his boxers and moves to slip on the condom.

Steve pumps himself in his hand once, twice, four times, and then he's lining himself up with you, tip only just kissing your entrance. "I'll be gentle, yeah?"

You smile at him, shake your head into another kiss. "You don't have to be gentle with me, Steve."

He looks at you, mouth slack, and you have to nod to reassure him, a gentle squeeze at his waist to spur him on.

There's a slur of muffled, breathy profanities as Steve sinks into you, so slowly fills you up, makes you feel each tiny stretch of your walls around his cock.

You're both breathing the same hot, heavy air, open mouths slotted over the other, and the feeling of him finally pressed in to the hilt makes you both sigh. "Can I move?"

"Please," You breathe, and it's all Steve needs to start slowly pulling back, only makes it about halfway before he's pushing back in.

It's enough to knock the breath out of your lungs, regardless, the fullness of it all immeasurably more intense than you had prepared for. Steve's head is buried in your neck, pulls a little further out with the next movement of his hips, drives in with a little extra force.

"Faster, please, baby," You whine, needy and impatient and unashamed. The words make his grip on your thigh tighten, and he does what you ask, kisses down your neck and along your collar bone and peppers you in more tiny marks as picks up his movements.

It makes you moan, deep and echoing around the room and suddenly you don't know what you would have done if his parents had been home, or if you had had to sneak him into your place, don't think you could keep all this energy inside you without exploding.

"So big," You sigh, can't help the breaths and whimpers that catch in the back of your throat as his hips get even faster, chasing that same white-hot friction. "Feels so good, Steve. So- Fuck."

Your head presses back into the pillow, one arm coming up to wrap around his torso and dig your nails into his back. "Oh, fuck, there you go," He mutters, feels the sudden clench of you around him and thinks he might be done for, now and forever and until the next time you let him feel you like this again. "Can't believe how fucking tight you are, baby. So perfect."

Steve pulls his face back, dips his head to look at the place your bodies are connected, at the place you're swallowing him up and dripping onto his bed sheets and knows immediately it was a mistake, feels the shiver of pleasure it spreads throughout his body almost make him tremble.

But Steve's a gentleman, even if the brief manhandling may have told you otherwise, and he would be damned if he was gonna let himself cum before you.

He's not quite sure how you keep coming up with new ways to say his name, but the sound that slips out of you mouth when his thumb meets your clit is certainly new, only gets through the first couple of letters before melting into a low moan. You clench around him again, fluttering and velvet hot, and it makes Steve quicken the circling of his thumb, looking up to watch your face pinch with it.

"Are you gonna be good and cum for me, honey?"

"Holy fuck," You whine, don't miss a beat, open your eyes to already find him looking at you intensely, jaw slack and eyebrows loosely knit together, concentration and pleasure overwhelming his features. "Need it harder, baby. Wanna cum for you."

"Need it harder?" He repeats, doesn't wait for your answer for the next drive of his hips to be harsher, deeper, hits that spot inside you so well it almost makes you scream. "Need it rough? Like- Oh, fuck, I can feel you."

Steve can apparently tell you're about to cum sooner than you can, because all at once everything it too much, hits you so fast and so hard you don't even have time to warn him before you're coming apart around his cock.

And thank God, too, because Steve was already about to lose it, thumb on your clit working you through your orgasm as he stills inside you, moans into your mouth with a rough kiss.

Your legs are shaking, trembling in his touch and Steve registers the rush in his ears, high-pitched and muffling your shared pants into white noise.

Steve is now indubitably certain you're an angel.

-----

"You can drop me off at the end of the road, just in case Robin's still awake."

"Oh, right. Sure." He seems unsure, a little distant, and after the last couple hours, it makes your heart sink.

You turn to Steve, in the darkness, watching the street lights paint shadows through the angles of his face, his brow and his nose and his jaw. He's prettier than you think you'll ever admit, prettier than you could ever make him understand. "You're cool with this, right? Because nothing else has to happen if you're not."

"No, I'm cool with it. Totally cool, just like you said, I'm a cool guy." Steve smiles, and you smile at him, meet his eyes as soon as he's rolled the car to a stop at the bottom of your street.

"Cool."

You lean across the centre console and press a quick kiss to his cheek, feel the heat beneath your lips and know he's more flushed than the dim light is letting on.

You don't really pull away when you pull away, hover a couple inches away from his face as he turns towards you. Something pointy and solid is digging into your ribs, but you don't really care.

Steve kisses you, moulds you to him the same way he had in his room not so long before. His hand is on your cheek and his tongue is in your mouth and everything is hot. Too, too hot.

"Good night, Steve," You whisper, lips still brushing his because you're giving him another chaste kiss as soon as you say it.

request something! masterlist // series masterlist

You finally settle back into your side of the car, and all at once you're gone so fast Steve's own "Good night" hangs empty in the air.

part two

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x buckley!reader #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things 4 #no stranger things spoilers #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington angst

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c-e-d-dreamer · 9 months

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Barbarian Bat: Part Two

A/N: It is sadly the last day of @nessianweek but I have had so much fun writing lots of fics and reading lots of fics! And I want to thank everyone for reading part one of this silly little AU earlier this week. Hopefully, you all enjoy part two, and I'm hoping to update with part three soon. :)

Previous Part // Next Part // Read on AO3

The trek through the snow is awkward and quiet, Cassian leading the way and Nesta trailing behind, trying to keep up with his long, easy strides. He slows to a stop each time that Nesta’s steps trip up, each time her foot sinks too deep, but he doesn’t turn back to look at her. He merely waits for her to regain her footing, to dig her snowshoe out, and then they continue on through the dark and the mountains of white.

If the entire journey to the spaceship is going to be this way, Nesta isn’t sure how much longer she’ll be able to take before her anger and annoyance really get the best of her. She remembers taking the journey once before, when all the women were given the knowledge transfer so they would understand the language the sa-khui spoke. It had taken almost a day between the spaceship and the main cave that they now call home. A day of awkward silence. A day of this tense energy that’s thrumming in the air between them. A day of her stupid khui vibrating and singing away, the damned thing still not shutting up.

As they walk, Nesta looks around, trying to recognize any landmarks from that previous journey, but everything on this planet looks the same. It’s all endless waves of white, snow reaching as far as the eyes can see in every direction. It’s only broken up by the strange bushes on this planet, by the purple and pink wispy stalks that are meant to be some kind of trees.

Perhaps she’s seen that particular cluster of trees before?

But any familiarity Nesta swears by vanishes as she takes in the rocky cliff face they’re walking toward. Under the pale light of the two moons, the snow covered rocks look especially looming and ominous, like sleeping giants waiting to wake, to rise. It has a shudder skittering up Nesta’s spine, and she hurries her steps enough to stick close to Cassian’s side as he walks parallel to the cliff face.

He makes it about halfway along the cliff face before coming to a stop before some sort of small opening, the abruptness of it almost sending Nesta careening into his back. She scowls and glares at his shoulder blades as she almost trips over her own feet, her snowshoes sinking deeper with her effort to stop quickly. She doesn’t let up even when Cassian finally turns over his shoulder and looks at her again, letting him feel and see all of her ire.

“Stay here,” Cassian tells her before slipping through the opening between the rocks, a cave Nesta realizes. He doesn’t stay inside for long, stepping back out into the night and gesturing with his hand for her to enter. “It is safe.”

But Nesta doesn’t move. She stays rooted to the spot and crosses her arms across her chest. “I thought you were taking me to the Elder Cave.”

“It is too dangerous to travel that far at night. We will rest here then continue the journey at first light.”

“How do I know you’re even taking me to the Elder Cave? That this isn’t some trick where you pretend to go along with what I want.”

Cassian’s eyebrows dip low at the accusation, his mouth pinching as he crosses his own arms. “Do you not trust me?”

“No,” Nesta answers matter-of-factly, unable to stop her scoff even if she wants to. “Human men, those weird green alien men, the basketball head alien men, even giant blue alien men… you’re all the same. You’re all just men.”

It’s more information than Nesta means to share, a part of herself that she hadn’t meant to hand over so easily. She’s never been good at any type of openness, any type of vulnerability. She’s always preferred claws and masks and armor. Snap and snarl now, and no one will ever ask questions later. Push someone out the door, and they never have the opportunity to leave.

But Cassian has always seen through her every defense, her every wall, ever since she stepped on this godsforsaken planet. She feels it now as Cassian’s eyes sweep over her frame, stripped bare, every crack, every nick, every bruise to her soul on full display. It’s as though he’s cataloging her every expression, tucking each reveal from her away.

“Give me their names, then,” Cassian finally speaks.

“What?” Nesta whispers, blinking in confusion.

Cassian steps closer to her, the breeze carrying with it the heat that always seems to radiate from him, the scent of low burning embers and what Nesta has always sworn was pine. He’s close enough that Nesta has to tilt her head back to continue to meet his gaze, a fire practically blazing across his expression. His hand reaches up in the space between them, a whisper of his touch skating along her cheek, before he seems to think better of it. His fingers curl back into his palm, hands settling into fists at his sides instead.

“Give me the names of these men that have hurt you, and I will find a way to hunt them down, to shatter every bone in their bodies for ever laying a finger on you.”

The declaration has Nesta swallowing hard, even as her traitorous heart skips a beat between her ribs, even as her khui starts singing again. “Don’t make promises that you can’t keep.”

“Then I will make a promise that I can keep. I will never hurt you, Nesta. I swear it,” Cassian says, pressing a hand to his chest, to where his own khui answers.

He says the words with such conviction, with such earnestness on his face, that Nesta doesn’t know how to respond. Words tangle on her tongue, clogging the back of her throat and battling with the emotions swirling like a storm in her chest until all she can do is try desperately to breathe around them. There’s no stopping that cold and cruel voice whispering in the back of her mind, digging its claws in with doubt and hesitation. Even if she wants to believe him, even if she wants to speak those words, she’s been burned too many times. She knows exactly how this will play out in the end. So she merely presses her lips together, wraps her arms tightly around herself like that will help hold herself together.

Cassian sighs softly at her extended silence. “If it will make you more comfortable, I can stay outside the cave for the night.”

“I thought you said it was dangerous. Snow-cats and all that,” Nesta reminds him before chewing at her bottom lip and turning away from his piercing gaze. “It’s fine.”

Before she can change her mind or take the words back, she ducks down and steps into the cave. It’s certainly small, clearly meant to just house a single hunter for the night. There’s a designated area for a fire, and when Nesta squints through the dark, she spies a few supplies like fuel and spare spears tucked neatly along the far wall. The way the walls seem to press in around her has Nesta’s hackles raising, especially when Cassian steps inside just behind her with his tall frame and wide shoulders, but she takes a deep, steeling breath, refusing to give in to those swirling shadows within her.

She spots where Cassian set down their packs, and she cuts across the small space to them, more than happy to have something to do with her hands. She unties her furs from her own pack first, unrolling them out across the cave floor and straightening them how she likes. She chances a glance over her shoulder, watching as Cassian strikes flint to start a fire.

An orangey glow flickers to life in the cave, casting shadows and shapes across the walls and floor. The firelight bounces off the dark strands of Cassian’s curls, his hair pulled back and tied off with a leather strap. It draws emphasis to his horns, to the plates and ridges on his arms and the way they shift along with his flexing muscles. Nesta finds herself tracing the dark colored lines and swirls across his blue skin, Cassian one of the few sa-khui with tattoos.

As if he can feel her attention on him, Cassian turns his head, meeting her gaze. Nesta is quick to snap her own head back around, swallowing down the heat threatening to creep up her neck, the way her heart skitters and skips for a moment. She grabs for Cassian’s pack to distract herself, untying his furs and laying them out in what little space remains of the cave floor.

“You should try and get some sleep,” Cassian’s voice breaks the quiet. “If we want to leave for the Elder Cave at first light.”

Nesta knows that he’s right, so she takes a moment to tug off her boots and her various outer layers of leathers, damp from the cold and the snow, and rests them near the fire so they can dry. It leaves her in just the long, loose leather tunic she wears beneath, her legs exposed. She can feel Cassian’s gaze on them, goosebumps prickling across her skin in the wake of his attention, so she quickly slips beneath her furs.

She burrows deep into them, tugging the furs up and around her shoulders as she turns to face the cave wall. Nesta has never done well in the cold. Back on earth, she always kept her thermostat higher than most during the winter months, always had plenty of blankets on her sofa to pile on when she curled up with her books.

And of course now she’s stuck on a planet literally covered in snow.

Even with the furs wrapped tight around her, even with the heat of the fire, Nesta can’t help but shiver. She nearly jumps out of her skin when another layer of furs is gently placed atop her. She cranes her head enough to watch Cassian move away and back to the space where she had laid out his own furs earlier, her lip finding home between her teeth.

“Won’t you be cold now?” Nesta dares to ask, fingers toying with her now extra furs.

“I will be fine. I have slept in worse conditions,” Cassian dismisses, getting comfortable against the cave floor. “Go to sleep, Nes.”

Nesta sighs softly but she rolls back over and tries to get comfortable herself. She watches the way the shadows flicker and dance across the stone of the cave wall from the fire, and tries to focus on emptying her mind. This whole night has already been bad enough, and the last thing she needs is another round of nightmares to make things even more awkward between her and Cassian. She squeezes her eyes shut and keeps her breathing a steady in and out, in and out, until finally the blissful darkness sweeps her away.

~ * * * ~

Nesta blinks her eyes open slowly, sniffling softly as she rubs at them and tries to reorient herself. It takes her a moment to remember where she is, to remember the events of the previous night. Resonating with Cassian. Making the trek to this hunter cave. She presses a hand against her chest, but her stupid khui is surprisingly silent.

With a quiet huff, Nesta sits up, rubbing at her arms against the chill. A glance around the cave tells her that the fire has banked to just embers. It also tells her that she’s alone in the cave, Cassian nowhere to be seen. That fact has Nesta frowning, and she scrambles out of her furs, grabbing her now dried clothes and yanking them back on. She heads for the cave opening and the privacy screen still in place, her anger already beginning to spark at her supposed escort being MIA.

“Ho,” Cassian’s voice sounds from outside, and Nesta freezes. That’s the greeting the sa-khui use with one another, which means…

“Ho,” another voice answers, followed by the sounds of footsteps in the snow coming closer.

“I am surprised to see you out on the trails so early,” Cassian comments.

“I wish that I came with good news,” the other sa-khui explains. Azriel’s voice Nesta realizes. “Rhys is furious. He has accused you of stealing the human female to force resonance.”

Shit. That’s definitely not good news. Rhysand had made it very clear to the tribe about how the women who had crashed on the planet here were to be treated, had set very firm rules and very strict punishments. If he thought Cassian had kidnapped her, that meant he could banish Cassian from the tribe. And it would be all her fault. Guilt churns in Nesta’s gut, and she squeezes her eyes shut to try and fight off the wave of sickness.

Cassian lets out an annoyed huff. “I did not do that. You were there.”

“I know. Luckily, when I told them what had happened, how she tried to leave on her own and you tried to stop her, that you went with her to ensure she was safe, Feyre was not surprised. She said that her sister would do something like that, and many in the tribe agreed. They do call her the stubborn one. The scary one.”

“Do not call her that,” Cassian all but growls, his tone fierce.

Azriel lets out a pained gasp as though he’s been shoved hard, a moment passing before he speaks again. “I am sorry, brother. I know that you have a soft spot for her.”

“She is hurting. It is very clear. I do not know why no one else can see it.” Cassian sighs, his voice dropping quiet enough that Nesta has to lean even closer to the privacy screen to hear him. “I just wish to help her.”

His words, the unwavering sincerity of his tone, they have Nesta’s chest tightening, her traitorous heart skipping between her ribs. None of the men back on earth ever spoke of her like that, least of all when they thought she couldn’t hear them. She’ll never forget the words she overheard in school. The words Tomas would sneer with his friends behind her back.

Cassian barely even knows her, and still he defends her, still he declares how he wants to help, and he says it all without an ounce of doubt, without any hesitation. It has something suspiciously like hope threatening to bloom and take root within her, tying like a golden thread tighter around her heart and flooding warmth through her veins. Nesta tries to swallow hard around the feeling, around the way it thrums and purrs.

She realizes too late that it’s actually her stupid khui thrumming, realizes too late that the sound gives away the way she’s practically pressed up against the privacy screen and obviously eavesdropping. She scrambles away and to the other side of the cave, knocking her elbow back against the stone wall in her haste. She slumps down to the floor, curling her knees up tight to her chest as if smothering her khui will make it shut up.

“Do not worry,” Cassian’s voice startles her, and she snaps her head toward the cave entrance just in time to watch him slide the privacy screen back into place behind him. “I have made Azriel swear not to tell anyone about our resonance.”

“Thanks,” Nesta mutters; although her khui starts singing anew. Whether touched by the gesture or in protest, she’s not sure.

“But Rhys and Feyre have demanded we return right to the main cave when we are finished at the Elder Cave.”

“Okay…”

Cassian opens his mouth as though he intends to say something more, an emotion passing across his expression that Nesta can’t quite pinpoint, but he seems to think better of it. With a shake of his head, he settles near what remains of the fire, placing the quill-beast in his hand down in front of him. He tugs a knife free from his belt, skinning the small animal with practiced ease and slicing the meat.

“I’m not hungry,” Nesta tells him when he places a few pieces on the meat atop the embers to cook.

Cassian’s grip on his knife tightens, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “I do not believe you. You need to eat, Nes.”

“You said we would leave at first light for the Elder Cave.”

“I will not escort you until you have eaten something first.”

“Fine,” Nesta snaps, turning to yank her furs close enough that she can begin rolling them up. “I don’t need you anyways. I never asked you to escort me. I’ll go to the Elder Cave by myself.”

“Good luck finding your way,” Cassian drawls.

When Nesta finishes securing her furs to her pack, when she finally turns to look at him again, Cassian is smirking. It��s a challenge if she’s ever seen one. They both know she doesn’t know where she’s going, both know she’d just end up wandering aimlessly through the snow. It has her bristling, has her eyes narrowing as a scowl twists across her face. With a frustrated huff, she tosses her pack to the side.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re annoying?”

Cassian’s smirk morphs into a full blown grin at the retort, and he picks up one of the now cooked pieces of meeting, holding it out in offering. “Not nearly as much as since you have come into my life, but do not worry. I like it.”

Nesta snorts, but she scoots closer to take the meat. “You like when I insult you?”

“I like this game we play. I like the way your eyes blaze. The pink that floods your skin here…”

Cassian’s hand reaches up between them as though to demonstrate exactly where he means, but his fingers just barely brush the skin of Nesta’s cheek before he freezes. Just that single, simple contact has a shiver skating up Nesta’s spine, has her breath hitching in her lungs. She can’t tear her gaze away from his, from the way his glowing eyes seem to bore straight through her. She swears she can feel the energy crackling in the space between them, just as surely as she can hear both their khuis singing away.

But Cassian seems to jolt back to himself, clearing his throat awkwardly and dropping his hand back down to his side. He turns his attention away from Nesta, focusing back on cutting the rest of the quill-beast meat up and popping the pieces into his mouth. Nesta nibbles on her own piece of cooked meat, trying to will her still thundering heart to calm.

“That sort of makes you a creep, you know,” Nesta finally comments. “Noticing all that. It’s almost like you admitting to watching me all the time.”

The comment draws a soft laugh from Cassian, and he offers her a sidelong smirk. “I cannot be blamed for always wanting to watch you. You are the most beautiful female I have ever seen.”

“Wow,” Nesta drawls sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “Does that line work on all the females you’re interested in?”

“The only female I am interested in is you.”

The words have Nesta swallowing hard and she tosses her last remaining bite into the fire. “I’ve eaten now. Are we going to the Elder Cave or not?”

Any good natured teasing between them, any hint of returning to the way things were before their resonance, it crashes around Nesta in the blink of an eye. Cassian’s smirk falls away, his entire expression hardening again. He shoves his knife back into his belt with enough force that she winces, but he pushes to his feet and begins to move about the cave, using snow to put out the embers of the fire and grabbing his and her packs.

Nesta can do nothing but pull back on her cloak and boots, can do nothing but follow him back out into the snow and biting wind. The two suns shine high above in the sky, but with their small size and pale light, they provide almost no relief against the cold, and Nesta wraps her arms tight around herself, just barely holding off a shiver. If Cassian notices, he doesn’t say anything. He shoulders both of their packs, letting out a sound somewhere between a grunt and a grumble, and then they’re off.

If Nesta thought that their trek the night before was terrible, it’s nothing compared to the rest of the journey. They hike in silence, Nesta trudging through the snow just behind Cassian. By the time the Elder Cave comes into view, Nesta has never been more happy to see that stupid spaceship, her chest heaving from the steady exertion. Cassian pauses just outside the large, main door and ramp that acts as the entrance, his shoulder tensing for a moment before he lets out a breath.

“I will wait out here for you,” Cassian offers, not even meeting Nesta’s gaze. “I am sure you do not wish for our khuis to give away our resonance.”

“Good idea,” Nesta murmurs quietly.

Nesta offers Cassian one last look, but the sa-khui male keeps his gaze firmly on the line of trees around them, his arms crossed over his chest. With a soft sigh, she walks up the ramp and steps inside the large main room of the spaceship. She finds just Jurian sitting around the fire, skinning what appears to be a hopper. He looks up when Nesta enters, but doesn’t say anything. There’s always been a strange, almost unsettling, wildness to Jurian, especially since he spent so little time with the main tribe. It has Nesta keeping her distance rather than stepping closer.

“Is Vassa here?” Nesta asks, refusing to back down from the way Jurian’s eyes narrow, the sa-khui male still slow to trust anyone outside his mate.

Jurian still doesn’t say anything, but he lets out a quiet grunt and turns his eyes toward the door that leads deeper into the spaceship. The meaning is clear enough. With a quiet thanks, Nesta heads through the doorway and into the winding hallways. She steps around holes in the floor, making sure to give a wide berth to any crumbling walls and crushed doors, and follows what sounds suspiciously like someone singing a Taylor Swift song.

When she turns around another corner, Nesta finally locates Vassa, the redhead toying with the wires of some sort of panel in the wall. Vassa pauses what she’s doing when she hears Nesta, but her friendly smiling of greeting morphs into a confused frown when she glances over Nesta’s shoulder and finds the rest of the hall empty.

“Nesta? What are you doing here? Did a whole group come?”

“Just me,” Nesta explains, raising her chin and straightening her spine. “I came to use the medical machine.”

Vassa’s eyes sweep over her, confusion growing. “Medical machine? For what?”

“That’s none of your business. I just need to use it, okay?”

“Well, if it was working, which it isn’t, I would need to program it to do what you need.”

The world seems to stop spinning beneath Nesta’s feet, everything crashing down around her as she swallows hard. “The medical machine isn’t working?”

“It started smoking the last time I tried turning it on, so definitely wouldn’t recommend climbing in there,” Vassa explains with a shrug. “I might be able to fix it, but it’s probably going to take awhile since I don’t exactly have a manual handy, so if you need something super urgently? Not happening.”

Nesta lets out a quiet, defeated scoff, closing her eyes and tilting her head up toward the sky. This can’t be happening. This cannot be happening to her. She’s not sure what sort of grievances she must have committed in another life, why the Mother has apparently seen fit to issue this sort of punishment, but it’s clear the gods are laughing at her now. Bile starts to claw its way up her throat, and she swallows hard around it, shoves down the panic threatening to well up in her chest. With trembling fingers, she pulls out the IUD from the small pocket in her clothes.

“Is that…” Vassa starts, leaning closer to see. She glances up at Nesta’s face, as if looking for confirmation, before letting out a bright laugh. “Come on. Your periods can’t be that bad that you need an IUD still. Our khuis help with that now. Besides, that was probably keeping you from resonating. Now you can have a hunky alien husband like Jurian.”

“So what?” Nesta snaps, her temper beginning to flare at this turn of events. “You won’t help me then?”

Vassa sighs, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. “I can try and fix the medical machine, but just know that it probably won’t make much of a difference. Our khuis are living organisms, remember? Now that it knows how to push your IUD out, it will just do it faster the next time.”

Nesta hates that she’s right. Hates that it’s a fact she’s been pointedly ignoring since she first realized what had happened back at the main cave. A fact she’s been running from since she resonated with Cassian. But there’s no more running, no more denying, and there’s certainly no reversing it.

Vassa keeps speaking, her lips moving as she says something else, but Nesta doesn’t hear a word of it. She doesn’t hear anything over the ringing that takes up home in her ears, over the rushing and pounding of her blood. She clenches her hands into fists, her nails biting into the skin of her palm, but it does little to help ground her. Already, she can feel herself spiraling, falling down beneath the crushing waves until it hurts to breathe, until she’s sure that she’s going to drown and no one will hear her scream.

It’s like an out of body experience, like being on the outside looking in, as numbly, Nesta turns on her heel. As she walks back through the winding halls of the spaceship. As she walks out through the entrance and into the sun and the snow beyond. As she walks and walks and walks. She doesn’t know where she’s going, where she will go, but Nesta knows one thing with absolute certainty.

She needs to get out.

—

Updated Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @books-books-books4ever @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck

#nessian #nessianweek2023 #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acosf #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #IPB AU #my fic

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iidylllic · 2 years

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Il Dottore x reader | 16+ | 1.4k words

Description: A short fic of how Dottore deals with sharing with a clone.

Reader specifications: None. No pronouns are used.

Character specifications: There is a current-day Dottore in his newer design, and a clone that you are free to either envision as that or his comic design. He’s a bit socially inept (aww sound)

Tags: stalking- and so slight yandere, it’s kinda like you mommy dom him a bit lmk if you want more of that, assistant reader

Notes: this fic really has no direction. i’m rusty and i wanted to write. regardless, please enjoy

I am 16+, aware of the tags, and consent to seeing what is in this fic [yes ⬇️] [no ↩️]

It’s no secret that Dottore doesn’t like communicating with other people. He’ll do what’s necessary, and he’s proud to show off at times, but making small talk and casual conversation doesn’t seem to be his forte.

Which is why you’re surprised that he now tries to talk to you whenever you stop by his laboratory.

You’re scared of him, admittedly, and your job in relation to him doesn’t help. All the harbingers are frightening characters to be fair. Tartaglia seems more laid back, perhaps a virtue of being the youngest. You don’t think you could handle being around Pantalone, even as much as some of his subordinates seem to like him. Columbina, Sandrone, Scaramouche and Signora… well, you instinctively want to stay out of their way. Arlecchino seems to be a safe option but only in comparison to them, Pulcinella falling somewhere along that line as well. Capitano safer yet, knowing he wouldn’t pay much attention to you. And Pierro… well, thankfully you don’t think he would even consider you as a subordinate.

And that leaves you with Dottore, the mad doctor, always feeling seconds away from being his next test subject whenever you encounter him. Which is a lot. He’s not letting anyone inside his lab, though- no, he prefers to give his subordinates in that area their own labs and space to provide supplementary experiments to his own and conjure up new ideas. You merely take the simple burden of being human off his hands by doing what feels like everything for him. You suppose that any clone he has feels either above or repulsed by this task. The one that does float around his lab sometimes doesn’t seem to do much, and stares at you so often it makes you uncomfortable. Observing.

Dottore- current Dottore- used to do that as well when you first started working for him. You would busy yourself with cleaning his office and he would sit, twirling a pen in his hand, not writing. It was hard not to feel watched.

You launder his clothes. You fetch his meals. You juggle dinner dates and politely inform the other harbingers of when he’s free (to your surprise, all of them have been courteous to you so far in this respect, but you try not to let that sway you. The fact is that if they have a problem with his schedule they have no qualms about going straight to his lab, which is probably why you exist as a middleman). You run baths for him and at 10:30pm the worst job of them all comes: attempting to convince him to sleep in a real bed.

Well, second worst. There is one that isn’t on the job description, isn’t a requirement to making sure that The Doctor can focus as much as possible on his work. Talking to him.

When you talk to him (or rather, when he talks to you) he enjoys going on these winding tangents about his experiments. Sometimes, he talks you through them, as a method of checking if something has slipped his mind in planning the experiment. It’s like seeing a completely different side to him, so different from the curt remarks he makes to other subordinates or the barely masked threats. He loses the intellectual measure of his words, the thoughtfulness, and speaks more rapidly and enthusiastically with waving motions of his hands. And you smile and nod the entire time, desperate to appease him.

“Ah, wow, that’s impressive.”

“Wherever did you get an idea like that?”

“It must’ve taken a long time.”

He smiles wider beneath his mask. Sometimes he takes it off, sets it down for a few paces around the metal table in the centre of his lab, and puts it back on.

It wasn’t long until he started wanting more of you, and not just to talk to you.

Dottore developed a fixation on you, your preferences, your past. You suppose one of his clones has also been attempting to figure it out. His younger self isn’t much of a conversationalist, even less so than current-day Dottore, but makes an effort all the same.

“Is that your favourite dish? I see you always order it when it’s there.”

This is your first time ever in the canteen with this particular clone.

“You’re very observant,” You say, giving an awkward laugh. The clone straightens up.

“Where did you live when you were a child? There’s a gap in the records,” The clone smiles. “So please tell me.”

“I didn’t even know you kept records of that…”

“We do for some people. You for instance, are in close contact with a harbinger every single day and are provided with ample opportunities to put him in danger. So it’s important that we know.”

You can tell it’s a lie to some degree. The ambiguous “we” in the statement sounds more like “Dottore and his clones”. Why not have the actual record keepers of the Fatui pursue you for this?

You don’t see any other option than handing over the information at this point, knowing that this Dottore was especially persistent.

“I had to live in Liyue for a while when I was five, up until I was seven.”

The grin grows wider. A hastily scribbled note into a notebook produced from his pocket. He gets up and leaves you in peace.

Maybe some of the missing soaps and shirts in your room are starting to make more sense.

———

You think Dottore and his clone gossip about you.

“Liyue.”

“Oh? Any more information than that?”

“I didn’t want to press too hard. I’ll ask next time.”

“Leave this one to me… I will ask about it next time we’re in the lab together.”

You take a couple steps back from the door of his office gently, then reappear at the entrance, hoping neither of them would notice your eavesdropping.

“Hello, sirs,” You say, fumbling slightly over the greeting. “I was wondering if I should run a bath yet.”

The younger Dottore rolls his eyes, though it doesn’t seem directed at you. Rather a frustration at the situation in general, a dislike of the fact that you have to serve the real Il Dottore first and foremost, not one of his clones.

The current-day Dottore walks over and puts a hand on your shoulder with an icy smile gracing his features.

“That would be wonderful. Do help me undress when I come down.”

He’s been getting handsy recently, the second most disturbing development since the stalking.

“I will. Do you need anything?” You say, now directing your face towards his clone.

“I don’t need such things.” He hisses.

Dottore laughs a little, tightening his grip on your shoulder and leaning towards you as the clone walks out.

“I understand his envy,” Dottore whispers, breath fanning over your ear. “But perhaps it was an oversight on my part that… I’m not good at sharing.”

“But you already share me with your clone.” You say. Then you pause, cheeks heating up. “When it comes to my work, I mean.”

Dottore snickers at your mistake, other arm moving to wrap itself around your lower back.

“This is true. But he can look, yes? He can look, but he can’t touch. For now, at least. And if any of the others start this behaviour, they’ll be given the same instructions. And you know me best of all anyway, don’t you?”

You nod. You did know him on some level. You knew about his experiments and his enthusiasm. You knew about his rants. You knew his schedule for the coming month and you knew what way he liked his shirts folded. There was a few times you had seem him naked, so you knew that about him as well. To assume all of his clones were the same would be overgeneralisation.

“Good. Let’s head down now.”

You could sense in the back of your head that there was something amiss. Extrapolation. For now, at least. Dottore had moved from looking at you, to talking to you, to stalking you, to touching you, and nowadays even to having you undress him. His clone had moved from looking at you, to talking to you, to stalking you.

If there was a next step- something that came after having you undress him- then it would mean his clones would move one step further up the ladder, too.

You figured that Dottore was actually fine with sharing you with his clones… just as long as he knew he had premium access to the most valuable and intimate parts of you.

#il dottore #il dottore x reader #yandere il dottore #(slight)#dottore x reader #i must have sex with il dottore from genshin impact

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luminouslywriting · 11 days

Text

Chapter 6 (Mastermind)—MOTA Fic

A/N: Ruth and Kidd are quickly becoming one of my favorite Brotps of the fic haha! That being said, enjoy the beginning of a hilarious partnership in this chapter. Let me know what you think :)

Learning secondhand that Colonel Huglin was being transferred to a hospital in London due to stomach ulcers and was going to be replaced was most assuredly not on Ruth’s list of things that she needed to have happen. A change in leadership during an attempt to clean house of problem-makers wasn’t going to help the situation much and she felt for the men on base, the confusion of the past few days probably leaving them reeling.

Still, Ruth was one of the first people up after Huglin was sent away and his replacement, Colonel Harding wanted to meet with all of the Air Executives, all of the Majors, and anyone who was going to be pertinent in relaying information to him. That being said, Ruth was also one of the first people that he met with—in fact, she was the first.

The difference between Colonel Huglin and Colonel Harding was startling—and she found Chick Harding to be altogether more relaxed than Colonel Huglin had been. In fact, the first thing that he did was offer her a cigarette.

“You smoke, Lieutenant?” Harding asked, leaning forward and offering his pack in her direction.

Clearly an attempt to get a read on her.

“Not often, but occasionally,” Ruth carefully plucked a cigarette with a nod of gratitude. She leaned forward, allowing him to light the cigarette as they sat there, a silent battle of wills and attempting to read one another in the process.

“I’ll be honest,” Harding gave a sigh. “I’m not a big fan of having JAG-Corp on base.”

“Not many are.”

“But in the few weeks since you’ve been here, the numbers don’t lie. Lower court martial cases, clearer direction with the missions. Huglin wanted you here indefinitely, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“For now, I’m of the same mindset. But I’ll be frank with you—”

“I’d much prefer it if you were, sir. And I don’t get offended by much,” Ruth added.

“Things are going to be different now that I’m here. I care, of course—about the well-being of the men. But I’m more of a spirit of the law leader than a letter of the law kind of guy. I’ll rely upon your good judgements to decide if a court martial is really needed, of course. But I’d prefer to utilize your abilities more so on the level of surveying missions and making battle decisions.”

“Sir?”

“I understand that you’re not a combatant. But truthfully, from a legal standpoint, this war has all but shot us to hell. So as much as you can help us logically work through things on our end here, things might go smoother out there,” Harding insisted.

“I look forward to the challenge, sir.”

“Great,” Harding let out a sigh and leaned back. “Now about the Hunderedth’s Air Executive—I’ve heard some mixed things. I want your thoughts.”

Ruth sucked in a breath of smoke, thinking long and hard for a moment about how she was going to respond to this particular question. “Some leaders are better leaders when they’re in the field and with their men.”

“Is that your professional opinion?”

“He’s antsy on the ground, especially when his men are in the air. He cares too much to be comfortable sitting back on base. I think his talents would be more useful to all of the men in the skies rather than down on the ground. Someone else would have to be considered but I’m afraid I don’t know the men well enough to suggest anyone else. Perhaps by speaking with the other men and Majors you can find a suitable replacement?” Ruth finally finished.

Colonel Harding made a note on the paper in front of him. “I thank you for your time, Lieutenant Sharpe. This has been enlightening.”

“My pleasure, sir. And welcome to Thorpe Abbotts.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Both Jack Kidd and Gale Cleven were digging into breakfast by the time that Bucky finally emerged from Colonel Harding’s office—looking slightly relieved and dead-tired. “Boys,” Bucky exclaimed, pulling out a seat and sinking into the chair across from them.

“Bucky,” Kidd mumbled, a mouthful still full of food.

“Well?” Buck questioned, narrowing his gaze at his friend.

“I got demoted,” Bucky retorted, tone still full of relieved surprise.

“To…?”

“CO of the 418th Squadron,” Bucky answered. He glanced over in Kidd’s direction, a slight look of apology in his eyes. “Sorry Jack, the boys are back with me again.”

“It’ll be good to get my fort back,” Kidd said with a slight shrug.

Bucky just gave a wince. “Yeah, Harding wants to see you about that.”

The coloring drained from Kidd’s face as he blinked slowly. “I’m Air-Exec?” Bucky simply gave a nod and Kidd dropped his fork. “You son of a bitch.��

“It wasn’t my idea,” Bucky replied defensively.

“Yeah, Huglin recommended it—” Buck cut in.

“You’re both sons of bitches,” Kidd said, shaking his head at the pair of Bucks. He shoved his chair out from behind himself and got up, annoyance clear as day on his face.

“Look at this way,” Bucky tried encouragingly. “He thinks we’re the least disciplined bomb group on the entire base and maybe you can make a difference.”

“I don’t want to be the guy wiping your ass, Bucky.”

With that, Jack Kidd strode from the breakfast table and towards Harding’s office, trying to clear his mind as the annoyance overtook him. Finding Lieutenant Ruth Sharpe waiting outside wasn’t a surprise and clearly had an impact on Bucky’s foul mood that he had acquired. Wordlessly, Sharpe handed him some paperwork.

“What’s this, then?” Kidd asked in a weary tone.

“For when you accept the position,” She replied in an innocent voice.

“How can you be so sure I’m accepting the position?” Kidd retorted.

“Because while Bucky Egan might be a likable guy and a great leader in the field, he was a little too drunk to be an Air Executive at any given time. And there’s no one else that Huglin liked enough to recommend the job. So that leaves you without an option,” Ruth said simply, shrugging her shoulders ever so slightly.

Jack Kidd had never been so annoyed in his life. And he was even more annoyed, fifteen minutes later, when he strode from the office and plucked the paperwork from Lieutenant Ruth Sharpe wordlessly. Stupid Bucky Egan getting demoted and forcing him to be the one working with the shark lawyer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ruth couldn’t say that she’d ever had the misfortune of seeing a plane crash up until this point. But three weeks later, in mid-July, Ruth saw it with her own eyes. She had been discussing an upcoming mission with Jack Kidd when sirens began to blare and the two of them had locked eyes in slight confusion.

“I didn’t think your men were flying today,” Ruth said, shoving her notebook shut.

“They’re not,” Kidd frowned. “It’s just some practice runs, no missions—”

He didn’t even get to finish his sentence before someone else was running in and calling for him—given the fact that he was the new Air Executive of the Hundredth and it was one of his pilots that had crashed and gone down. But then before Ruth could even encourage him to go off and address the problem, the private was adding that Ruth’s presence had been requested for the recording of the incident.

So there Ruth was, on an early morning in July, in a jeep with Jack Kidd and going to inspect the damages done and interview the mechanics and ground crew that had worked on the plane. It wasn’t an investigation by any means, but it certainly felt more like one than she had done in years.

The car ride there was short and tense—and she could see the thick black smoke licking up into the air from the main headquarters. As they approached the treeline, the scent of oil and something burnt shifted through the air and Ruth nearly gagged at the smell. There was a reason why she wasn’t a damn nurse—she hated anything to do with the doctors or nurses. She didn’t envy the men who were attempting to find any remains.

They were on the scene fairly quickly, though there were already people showing up to help put out the fire, remove debris, and attempting to assess the situation at hand. Ruth wasn’t surprised when the other Majors on the base arrived on the scene, staring at the smoke and crash-site.

It was a haunting smell, and one that she knew all of them would remember for the rest of their lives. God, it made her worried about her brothers. Ruth kept quiet, eyes locked onto the scene ahead of her. Guide them safely home and please—let it have been quick for all of them. A silent prayer seemed to pour out from her heart and then the moment was gone. She busied herself with asking the proper questions and recording responses.

When she had finally finished up, she returned back to where the Majors were all talking in quiet tones. “Finish up the interviews?” Kidd questioned, gaze falling on her.

“Yes. It seems to be a pilot error, nothing to do with the ground crew,” Ruth replied.

Harding arrived on the scene not even seconds later, a frown on his face. “What happened?” He questioned, gaze switching onto the group of Majors, Air Executives, and Ruth.

“Practice mission—he went into his turn too early and too slow. Engine stalled out,” Veale answered.

“Who was it?” Harding pressed.

“One of the 349th. A new crew.”

“Barnhill,” Buck answered grimly.

Harding glanced in Ruth’s direction. “You get any answers out of the mechanics?”

“The plane was perfectly fine before they left. It seems to just be an error on the pilot’s side of things, though that can’t be remedied now,” Ruth said with a slight frown. “I’ll have the report back to you within the next hour.”

Harding gave a firm nod. “We’re going to have to move things around to make up for the loss. Veale, you get working on the letters to the families and then we all need to have a long conversation about how to avoid simple accidents like this.”

The resounding “Yes sir” still echoed in Ruth’s ears as they left. Because how could that ever be considered a simple accident? And how could they all become so numb to the realities of war that they forgot what it was to be an actual living and breathing human being? She figured that if people got numb enough to what war was—and it was a living hell and should not have happened in the first place—then they couldn’t ever resolve or stop the horrors of it. Because they’d be too far removed and numb to what it meant to be at peace.

They could not forget it. And Ruth would be damned before she let them do so.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ruth was well-acquainted with the art of curling hair. Not that she had any need of it, given the ever-present state of her hair always being curly. But at the moment, she was placing curlers in Helen’s hair. Not a single force on the whole damn planet could have convinced her of going out that night—especially given the fact that the smell had lingered throughout the day.

Her report had been pristinely delivered to Harding just when she said it was and they had spent the better part of the morning rearranging the forts to make up for the loss of numbers that they had endured over the last few weeks.

By the time that night had fallen, Ruth was plain and simple, just tuckered out. Her social battery left little to be desired, but neither Tatty or Helen seemed bothered by her cold demeanor and it almost threw her for a loop. So they had asked her to help them with their hair and to just have a quiet night in. Ruth could handle that sort of thing like it was just another Tuesday.

“You’re not writing any men, are you?” Helen asked, craning her neck ever so slightly to catch a look at Ruth’s face.

Ruth wasn’t fazed by the question and didn’t even blink. “Just my two brothers. I’m afraid I’m very boring.”

“Oh there had to be someone,” Tatty insisted, giving a slight wince as Helen finished up a curl in her own hair.

“There’s no one,” Ruth reassured them. “Though to my mother and father, that’s a different story. They’re under the delightful impression that my sole goal in being in Europe at the moment is because I’m engaged to some pilot and waiting for the war to be over. Because of that, I’m clearly advocating for women’s causes in the countryside.”

Tatty couldn’t help the fact that her jaw dropped. “You told them all of that?”

“Oh please, I did all of that before I even left for Europe. I’ve told much worse lies. I think,” Ruth gave a slight shrug.

“Why though?” Helen questioned.

“Because my sisters Alice and Sarah—one’s married and the other is engaged and they think that I should do that too. But days like today? Where a man blows up because he was going too slow? That’s a harsh slap in the face to the reality of war. And I won’t be one of those little widows, barely bed, and their husband dies. That’d just be awful. Love is for children, which I am not.”

“God,” Helen sighed. “We just need to find you a nice man.”

“Now you sound like my mother,” Ruth retorted. “But I’ll concede to that. You find me a man who does major damage to the German empire, has a sense of humor, and one that can keep up with me? I’ll go on a date with that man.”

“Something tells me that he’s going to be hard to find,” Tatty mumbled. “Seeing as how most of these pilots don’t come back truthfully.”

“Exactly.”

#mota #mota fanfic #masters of the air fanfic #mastersoftheair #oc originalfemalecharacters #masters of the air #rosie rosenthal #robert rosenthal x oc #rosie rosenthal x oc #robert rosenthal fanfiction #rosie rosenthal fanfiction

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bettsfic · 7 months

Note

Hi Betts, welcome back!! Sorry to hear about your residency :(

I really enjoyed your recent ask about what makes a good writer. It came at the perfect time for me because in my first draft my writing looks pretty similar to the second example, and I knew something wasn’t clicking but couldn’t quite figure out what.

I’ve been worrying a lot about being explicit about bodily directions, item placement, and other irrelevant information because I can see the scene clearly in my mind, like a movie, and I feel the need to describe exactly what I’m seeing! But I don’t like it. I know I could do better. I much prefer when I write like in the first example, where the narrator’s personality infuses into the prose and you can “hear” them telling the story.

The trouble is, I’m unsure just how to get to that point. How do I know what information is irrelevant? Is there a way I can write closer to the first example from the get go? It would improve my writing confidence significantly. Is it an inspiration thing? When I’m really inspired I write like in the first example on my first attempt. Could it be how familiar I am with the POV character? I’m currently writing a character who doesn’t have a lot of canon screen time, so I’m worried my interpretation of him and how I explore his character may come off as OOC to readers.

Sorry for the length! :”0 I really look up to you and you writing prowess.

if in your drafting process, if writing those movements comes naturally to you, then you should continue to write them. sometimes you need to write your character crossing a room in order to reach something on the other side, because that's how you see it in your head. the character needs to make that movement to get across the room, and you need that movement to know what's across the room and why it might be important. and later, when the whole thing is done and you're revising it or even just proofing it, you can return to that sentence and ask yourself if it's beautiful enough or meaningful enough to stay. but you can usually only know that once the whole story has been told.

it took a lot of practice for me to let go of my own internal filmmaking in my writing. i was so dedicated to my teal formica tables. i wanted the reader to see what i saw while writing it.

but you can't really control what your reader sees in their mind's eye. you can only control what details they attend to (and why they attend to them). and when you think of it like that, what you want your reader to pay attention to, then relevance becomes easier to discern. if the teal formica table has a crack in the corner, and that crack has a story of how it came to be that would lend context or insight into a character, then by all means, the teal formica table becomes relevant. but otherwise, it goes.

deciding what stays and what goes is always going to be a challenge, though. relevance is never objective. what matters to you may not matter to one reader, and another reader may find it important but interpret its meaning differently. so much of revision is just having a wider frame of reference of your own work so you can assess as many options as you can and choose the right path for your story. and here, "right path" means a final draft that you feel confident about and proud of.

i appreciate the kind words, and best of luck on your fic!

#writing advice

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shadowsandsunset · 28 days

Text

The BuckTommy OF!Buck fic (with eventual BuckTommyEddie)

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE (You Are Here)

PART FOUR (Had to split part three, it got too long, posting soon)

notes: No smut, but 18+ to be safe.

Eddie figures himself out. Buck, Tommy, and Eddie talk.

Tommy remains amazing, Eddie falls in love. <3

3000-ish words. Ooops.

I should also find a title for this eventually, for when I post on AO3.

From this post here.

Weeks go by before Eddie feels ready to talk to Buck.

He's been reading about compulsory heterosexuality, polyamory and queer platonic relationships; he's been watching queer media and movies; he's been exploring himself, his body, in a new context.

He talked to Hen and Karen and they pointed him in the right directions: queer bookstores and gay bars and how to find the information he needs to let him get a new feel for how he fits in the world.

So, he's ready. Or, well, he's as ready as he can possibly be and too impatient to wait longer.

So, he has to face things. Face Buck. Face his desperate horniness for his best friend and his best friend's boyfriend. Face the fact that he's in love with Buck. Face the fact that he could see himself falling for Tommy, too. To be with both of them, not a love triangle but a love circle, a hand reaching for each of them, a completed circuit.

Does he know that they'll be into it? No. Is it moving too fast? Absolutely. Is he even out to anyone but Hen and Karen? Nope. Is he slowly going insane? You know it.

But in his head and in his heart, he knows what he wants: a king size bed, a walk in closet, two of the best men he knows to raise his son with him, a house full of love and nights full of the kind of things he can't speak about without blushing.

He's watched so much gay porn these past weeks to get a grip on what he likes, what he doesn't like, and what he would like to do to another and what he would like done to him. The first time he came from having his own fingers inside of his ass? Revolutionary. He doesn't have a preference, top or bottom, or, ideally, both. Oh yeah, he's imagined being inside of Buck as Tommy is moving inside him, using him, to fuck both of them. When he came imagining that scenario he thought he was going to pass out, his heart beating so fast.

So now all he has to do is talk to Buck and Tommy. Buck first, then the both of them together.

He's standing outside of Buck's apartment building and getting ready to go up. He's terrified. The ways in which this can go wrong are innumerable. But, they've been through worse together. They'll talk it through. Buck won't hate him for this, he just has to remind himself of that.

Really? That's the best he's got at the moment outside of just info-dumping everything he's read about?

But what does he say?

"Hey I accidentally saw your porn and it made me rethink my entire life and sexuality?"

He's nervous, he's scared, he's absolutely getting ready to turn around and run when he sees Tommy approaching.

"Hey man, didn't know you were hanging out tonight." Tommy motions at the building in front of them.

Eddie just nods, "Yeah, uh, he doesn't know I'm here, actually, and I…fuck."

Tommy peers at him, eyes taking in how nervous Eddie is, the fidgeting and sweat pooling at his hairline.

"Everything ok, Eddie?" Tommy puts a hand on his shoulder, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Eddie freezes when Tommy's hand makes contact with his shoulder, his skin heating up at the touch, but then he feels himself relaxing.

Maybe it would be better for him to talk to Tommy first, another gay man, who might understand what he's going through.

He won't mention that he wants to fuck them, Buck and Tommy, he'll just talk about what he has discovered, yeah, that'll work.

And then he can talk to Buck when he's a little calmer.

He turns to Tommy, "Yeah, I think I do. Want to talk about it. But you're here to see Buck and I don't want to keep you."

Tommy smiles, "I'm actually early, so he's not expecting me yet if you want to talk." He motions to his truck, "We can sit down for a bit, if you want."

Eddie agrees and climbs into Tommy's truck, as Tommy climbs in and turns it just so the A/C is running and music plays softly over the radio.

"So, are you ok?" Tommy asks, gentle and quiet.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm ok, Chris is ok, nothing like that. It's just…"

Eddie twists his hands together, squeezing his finger in a little pinch, just to ground him.

"So…a while back I, uh, I realized something. Something about myself. Something I wasn't ever able to realize before, growing up in Texas and being…well, married young, had a kid young, joined the army… It was just…" He trails off, looking out the window.

"Ah," Tommy breathes out, "I see. And when did you realize…that you're?" Tommy leaves the end of his sentence as a question, let's Eddie fill in the blanks.

"That I'm. That I'm gay? Weeks ago. Almost two months now. I, uh, went to Hen, and Karen, and they were really great about it, taught me things, places to go to learn, and I guess…" Eddie takes a deep breath, holds it for a second, "I guess the way I grew up, it was be straight or bust. It was the only option. I remember being like, younger than Chris is, and the things people would say, not just about queer men, but about masculinity and the expectations of it, the 'right way' to be a man. And I just… didn't let myself think about it. I did what was expected."

Tommy nods, "I was at the 118 under Gerrard. He was not an accepting man, and I knew, I realized about myself, but it wasn't allowed, and it wasn't until Hen came and shook us all up that I had any hope of it ever being different. So it seems we both owe Hen a giant fruit basket." Tommy winks at the last, and Eddie bursts into jovial titters, relief that somebody else gets it.

Eddie giggles trail off. "It's ok, right? I'll be ok?"

"Yeah, you'll be fine, better than fine. Because you already have people who love you and will accept you. And I'm here for you, too."

Eddie releases the breath he feels like he's been holding his whole life.

"There's something else, and I, I'm not sure I should even mention it. The thing that made me realize and rethink and all that?" He looks at Tommy in the eyes, "I saw a video on a porn site."

He stops, looks away, looks out the window, everywhere but at Tommy's patient, lovely face.

"It was from OnlyFans. It was you and Buck. I didn't know that Buck had one. He's so open with so much and closed about other things, and I don't know why I watched it, I just recognized him, his back, his scars, you know? And I clicked on it and I watched it and," he curses low under his breath and looks at Tommy again, "I've never come harder in my life."

Tommy's eyebrows are raised in surprise, his mouth is open in a little gasp, and Eddie feels himself burning in shame. He can't help it. It's awkward.

Tommy, whose brain seems to kickstart back into gear, laughs lightly.

"When we first became friends, before I got with Evan, I thought you two were together. You were so close, you know? But now, Eddie, I've been a part of both of your sexuality awakenings and I have to admit it's a good little ego boost."

Eddie smiles at Tommy, "You're incredibly attractive, Tommy. You have to know that, right?"

Tommy smiles back, ever gentle, "Thank you. But, uh, I'm with Evan. And I don't cheat, especially not with my partner's best friend. And I don't think you're that type of guy, either."

Eddie feels something warm in his chest, a small bit like what he feels for Buck, a candle flame versus an inferno. Oh, he could love this man.

"No, I'm not. And I didn't mean to imply that, anyway." He gathers his inner strength, "But have you heard of, uh, polyamory?"

Tommy blinks, "Polyamory. The three of us? Or open? Because…Eddie, I like you, but I don't want an open relationship, not with anyone, but especially not with Evan. I love him."

Eddie shakes his head, "Not open. Just…I've been imagining it for weeks. I love Buck, I'm jealous of you, truly, and I wish I had got my head out of my ass sooner. But I love him, am in love with him, and have been for way longer than I realized, if I look back on things. But Tommy, you're also a wonderful person, and I can absolutely see myself falling for you, in addition, not in replacement of Buck."

"I don't know, Eddie. I have no idea if this would work, or if Evan would even be willing. Am I attracted to you? Well, I have eyes, so yes. But… Maybe you should talk to Evan. Or maybe I should. I don't know."

Eddie places his hand over Tommy's bigger one, "I'm not going to try and steal him from you. I love him, yeah, and it'll suck to see him with somebody else, but I am not a homewrecker. I want you both. I've spent a lot of time fantasizing about it, actually. This is something I've thought through, and I know that this is a sudden and unexpected thing, and maybe I'm just in my head, which is why I didn't bring it up until now. Now, I'm sure. And maybe you and Buck aren't interested, but, I really think this could be amazing."

Tommy sits quietly for a few moments but doesn't pull his hand away from Eddie's. He glances at the time on the radio. "You should come up with me, I believe you when you say you won't try to steal him, but I know he loves you, Eddie. You won't have to try."

Tommy looks sad, resigned, like he knows the outcome. Eddie feels his heart break, he already knows how that feels. He won't let them lose this man, not if he can help it.

"He loves you, Tommy. I'm not going to make his decisions for him, but I'm not willing to cast you aside either; not now, not ever. Cause yeah, I love Buck. But I'm pretty sure I'm already halfway in love with you, and I know you don't trust that yet, but I'll show you, if you and Buck will give me a chance."

Tommy turns off the ignition off and climbs out of the truck, Eddie following after.

They make their way upstairs and into Buck's apartment, Buck greeting them warmly but seeming to pick up on the tension.

"So, uh, what's up?" Buck scratches the back of his neck, confused and wary.

Tommy nods at Eddie, giving him the floor. Fuck. Fuck, ok. Go time.

Eddie takes in a deep breath, releases it. This is it. This is where his best friend either breaks his heart or gets awkward or Tommy ends up being right and that doesn't sit well with Eddie at all.

So he goes for it.

"Sit down, Buck. I think you need to be sitting down."

Tommy is leaning against the wall, looking nervous and ready to bolt, like his heart is already broken. Fuck, that's not what Eddie wants. He has to do this right, put his years of therapy to good use.

Buck sits. Eddie stays standing, paces a bit but doesn't take his eyes off either of the other men.

"So. Uh. A couple of months ago, I watched something. Something I should have never seen."

Buck seems to understand, going pale, stuttering out a disbelieving "what?"

Eddie continues, "I'm glad I did see it. It put things in perspective for me," he makes air quotes, "brought forth the real me".

He stops pacing, settling down next to Buck. "I recognized you, I'll always recognize you, your scars and freckles and skin. I know you probably thought no one would, but I could recognize you in the dark, underwater, anywhere. I'm sorry, that you probably didn't want me to see that."

Buck seems to be close to breaking down, breath heaving, eyes looking for Tommy who nods back at him to keep listening to Eddie.

Eddie takes Buck's hand in his, comforting as he can, and continues.

"I realized I'm gay because of that video. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, I know that we don't keep things from each other but I was struggling to understand how I could go so long without realizing. But I wanted to tell you, tell you everything."

Buck snaps his head to look at Eddie, "You're gay?"

"I'm gay. I can explain about compulsory heterosexuality and the way I grew up, later, but I needed to tell you."

"Why do I feel like I am still missing something?"

Eddie looks at Tommy, motions for him to take a seat on Buck's other side and then waits for him to do so.

"Buck. Buck, you're my best friend, my kid's other Dad. I love you." Buck looks at Tommy, Tommy looks at Eddie, Eddie looks at both of them: Tommy tucked up behind Buck's back, protective, Buck leaning on Tommy but reaching out for Eddie's hand.

Eddie takes a few quick shallow breaths, and then starts again.

"I love you. And you are one of the most important people in my life and I am terrified of losing you. I know you love Tommy, and that's wonderful, Buck, I'm so happy for you both. I love you, and I'm in love with you," he hears Buck's breath stutter, but he continues, "I'm in love with you, and Tommy is someone who is so amazing, and I think I'm falling for him too, for all the same reasons you did."

"What the fuck."

Buck pulls his hand out of Eddie's, Eddie feels his heart shatter. Oh no.

Buck stutters, "You, you what? You realize you're gay and then you tell me you're in love with me AND my boyfriend, and what? I'm supposed to choose? You or him? That's fucked up. And you think you're falling for him? So what? Are we all just supposed to date each other?"

Eddie interrupts before Buck can spiral further, "Yeah, ideally. If you want that, and if Tommy wants that. Because that's what I want."

Buck stops, looks at Tommy, looks back at Eddie. He stands, pulls Tommy up with him, then points at Eddie.

"Stay here."

Tommy and Buck go into the bedroom and Eddie can hear their voices but not make out words. He can't help but think that he's ruined everything.

They're gone for what feels like hours but is only about twenty minutes. Buck's eyes are wet and shiny, but his cheeks are dry, if red. Tommy is following Buck, quiet but looking steady.

Buck approaches, sits back down, Tommy standing behind him, supportive and protective, and Eddie can't help but appreciate the strength of Tommy, not just the physical, but his emotional and mental. These men. These men are something truly special.

Buck begins speaking, "Ok," he takes a shaky breath, "Tommy and I think it's best if we approach this like any relationship, even if we already know each other, we should, uh, date. We should learn how this'll work, if it'll work, and take it slow, or, as slow as feels right."

Tommy nods, "Evan and I didn't jump into things either, for what it's worth. And I know this is new for you, and I don't want to rush this and things go south." He shrugs, "But we agreed to give it a shot."

Eddie feels something inside of him relax. "So, I didn't ruin everything?" Fuck, that's not what he meant to say.

Buck's expression goes tragic for a second before reaching to pull Eddie into a hug, "Eddie, no. Even if this doesn't work out, you're always going to be my family, you and Chris. It just might be awkward for a bit but we've been through too much for anything to ever get between us." Buck grins, playfully, "Except for Tommy, sometimes, I mean, we'll have to take turns being in the middle, right?"

Eddie and Tommy both laugh, relieved.

"Right." They agree in unison.

They sit and talk for a while, joking and smiling, flirty comments and all.

Before Eddie heads home for the night he stops, turning to the two men.

"I know we said we'd take it slow, but I, I haven't kissed a man before and I really want to kiss you, both of you…if that's ok?"

Buck and Tommy share a look then nod. Buck takes Eddie's face in his rough, warm palms and kisses Eddie gently, sweetly. Eddie feels like he has honey in his veins, warm and syrupy. He relaxed into the kiss, it feels good, so incredibly good, great, spectacular. It's a simple kiss, no tongue, but it's confirmation of what he knows to be true.

Buck pulls away and Eddie is slow to open his eyes, overwhelmed with gratitude and affection.

"Wow." He takes a breath, "Yeah, ok, damn."

Tommy smiles at him, "I had the pleasure of being Evan's first kiss with a guy, I thought he would like to be yours."

Buck nods, "Absolutely."

Tommy pulls Buck into a hug with one arm and Eddie with the other, and they wrap around each other, and it feels right, it feels like he is where he belongs and Eddie could cry, if Tommy didn't tilt his face up to kiss him.

Where Buck's kiss was soft, almost chaste, Tommy kisses him with a bit more pressure, and it's wonderful. Eddie isn't a small guy by any means but being held by these two men makes him feel small, but not in a bad way, more like being cherished.

Tommy pulls back, kisses Buck on the temple. Eddie feels his heart pounding.

"Thank you." Eddie says, voice wavering with emotion.

They make plans for their first date together, and Eddie wants to take flight, soar through the sky on wings he doesn't have, he's so happy.

#bucktommyeddie #buck x tommy x eddie #bucktommy #evan buckley x tommy kinard #evan buckley x eddie diaz #tommy kinard x eddie diaz #911 abc #fanfic #shadow's writing tag

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yutasbimil · 1 year

Text

Frisky

kenma x fem!oc | haikyuu ff. (time-skip!older kenma) ✦ (3/~) [series fic] !!! also posted on my ao3 acc! { here } tags: fluff, slight angst (not really), smut cw: nsfw minors dni, minor plot, fingering, oral, teasing, established relationship, kinky, orgasm denial, quickie, public sex, fingering, edging, swallowing, exhibitionism(?) HELP THIS IS NEW TO ME ACK, interrupted lol, FLUFF!!! D; note: not that comfy w/ 2nd POV, tho no specific characteristics are mentioned on the fem!oc so pls feel free to imagine as y/n or YOU ♡ word count: 3.9k

part 1 | part 2

do not repost © yutasbimil (2022)

"She's as shy as you, huh?"

Kenma looked in the direction Hinata was looking at, and there he saw across the room, his girlfriend handling some of her daily dose of required socialization for the day. It looks like she's stammering over talking to some Karasuno players.

"She actually handles conversation better than I do, to be honest," Kenma responds, and at the back of his mind, he suppresses a grin.

If only he knew how she can be wild and explorative on other terms. Though, of course, he wouldn't actually let Hinata know that piece of information 'bout her girl.

Kenma kept a bashful smile to himself.

It's no surprise she got close with Kenma the most. She’s usually an anxious person. But the quietness and softness of the guy’s presence go beyond easing her nerves. Mai is scared of tall people, especially men. Though, she's got no problem with talking with her boyfriend’s best friends and her seniors.

It’s also child’s play to see a (preferred color)-haired fellow shaking in a sea of red and black and expect it to be Mai.

Three teams are scheduled to have a team play practice for the week. Though, the game sets are almost finished for the day, hence why it's cooling down at the moment.

Kenma felt a cold bottle by his forearm, turning to expect a gleeful orange-haired guy near him.

“No wonder she’s friends with your girlfriend,” Kenma muttered.

Hinata raised a brow, following Kenma’s line of vision, directing at Yachi and Mai.

“Huh? She’s not my girlfriend.” Hinata says, keeping an eye on the girls. Hinata almost put a foot forward as the two girls flinched at some Shiratorizawa players, particularly the tall red-haired male with a big smirk on his face.

Mai also shared how that guy gives her the creeps. He can be quite unpredictable.

For a while, Hinata breathes out, followed by a grin as the other girl manages to answer the tall male. “Oh, so that’s your girlfriend, Kenma-san.”

“Don’t say ‘girlfriend’ too much.” he scratches the side of his face, flustered by the attention since earlier but nods. “Yes. I'll introduce her to you later.”

He walks out of the court, managing to divert the attention off his reddened ears.

Mai can be the bravest person he knows if it's about pushing herself to the edge or trying out new things. And Kenma knows he is one of the forces that influence her to do better outside her comfort zone, and vice versa.

It just so happens they are also on the same page in terms of sex.

It can be in terms of letting her lay on her back and testing her gag reflex through mouth-fucking her. Other specific situations would be doing the riskiest shits in-game, or while they're in a call with their friends. With Mai in between his legs as they're trying their best to conceal the fact that he's getting the best head whilst leading their game. Even stepping it up a notch further by doing it while they’re on their casual call in their Disharmony server.

Hell, Kenma also didn't know he had that in him and would be interested in those types of kinks.

Looks like he's been corrupted. Mai and her corruption kink winning.

Mai would be "mad" at that for blaming her. He already can hear her sassing him how: "You're kinky! I'm just bringing out your fullest potential."— As if she's the one who is responsible for that.

Well, if that's the case… I'll make her responsible.

Kenma felt a tent standing up by his gym shorts, much to his uncomfiness. Man, what an inconvenience.

And this is all just for letting his mind trail off to Mai.

It’s not anything related to her personally, or that they got any issues going on. But Mai noticed a slight distant or odd atmosphere between them, more so as they met eyes. Or rather, it passes through with Kenma immediately diverting his glances from her and looking away.

He seems to stifle something at the back of his throat, but she can’t quite pinpoint it. Kenma’s expression is hidden behind his hand on his face.

“You okay, Yachi-san?” Hinata picks up the last of the volleyballs on the ground. They’re about to wrap up the practice matches.

“J-just tired, I guess. I never had the chance to accommodate three teams in one gym.” she pried as she helps Mai with the other end of the net. Mai just quietly nods in agreement, there’s also an obvious tiredness in her dragging her feet.

Kenma feels a strong gaze towards him, it’s anything else but the anxious eyes that he saw from Mai earlier. It may be the effect he has on easing her but noticing a hint of depth and darkness on it. He can’t help but let a cold sweat slip off his head, swallowing a bit of saliva left from his dry throat.

The game sets parched him.

He glances back at her as if they’re dancing through glances. Hers didn’t seem to waver. It’s the same firm look as she’s not much anxious going down on him, even while streaming, she even manages to give him head despite the possible consequences. With him being quiet– She really admires how he can still play well and concentrate as if she isn’t there to distract him– though now, his quietness is not much at the advantage as maybe Mai thought they have a problem.

But this is not even about asserting a stand. Yet she still manages and knows she got him on the edge at the palm of her hands, quite literally.

Pulling him back into reality, was the dry towel hitting him and a look from Mai cold as the water handed to him, obviously a pout written on her lips.

I’ve got to tell her.

"Let's go change together." With no spare clothes at hand, it was more of an initiator from Kenma to tease Mai. He didn’t have any shame blurting that out as they were at a bit more secluded part of the courtyard. More on the supply closet behind the gym. But it still gave Mai a burning blush to hear that out loud from Kenma.

"Dummy, that's not allowed!" she smacks his shoulder, and the added skin contact didn’t help.

"So?" Kenma kept a stoic face just remaining his stare at her till she melted.

"Noooo! You're giving me ideas." Mai went in and covered her whole face. Is he darn serious just now?!

Of course, it was just to tease her, and it worked.

He stifled a laugh.

Mostly the reason he joked was to just initiate from the awkward atmosphere, but now that they have gone quiet again. Both of their mouths agape, as if racing to who can speak and tell each concern first.

They talked over each other at the same time.

“Mai.”

“Ken, I–”

The girl didn’t manage to finish laying out her thoughts as she was suddenly sneaked into the supply closet with him. With her back thumping lightly on the wall, the other spare balls even quiver as they hear people pass by the door.

As if panicked, she also held her breath as Kenma pinned her down in between his arms to stay put. It was only momentarily, though Mai had confusion outlined on her brows.

“Why did you need to hide us here though?”

Kenma’s silence also picked up on the unnecessary reaction. It just happened. His grip losing on her shoulders also signaled him to calm down. “Out of instinct, I guess.”

He could only answer, though, he was also thinking about where to treat her for later. What was he supposed to say again? The supply closet isn’t the most tasteful idea to come up as a ‘date’ with to be real. Kenma does have the same closeness and intimacy like this in mind though.

His proximity and the quietness to the point she can hear his breathing distinctly on her end though... It didn’t help much further on her ‘overlooked issues’ as to why they were put to discuss in the first place.

“Off topic but want to make this quick?” Kenma asks out of the blue. It is not off-topic on what she had in mind though, but it seems that they’re not far in their in-the-gutter thoughts.

Even though it’s not well lit up in the small space, Kenma has his face close to hers, he must take precautions. He does have those types of thoughts in mind, but he has to make sure.

Lightening up the mood again, trying, he says. “Are you okay… making this quick? If I take the lead?”

“Eh?” Like lead in what way? Mai is thinking of something else, but she’s not absolutely sure. Mai rubs her legs. Is he joking again?

But by his look, he's looking straight at her. Seriously, if I may add.

The unintentional friction she just did was a very bad idea, adding his deep stare at her.

Kenma inches closely to her carefully, checking if she's okay with it. There’s a shift in his tone as she’s still not budging nor getting any utterance out of her.

“Are you still upset over something that has to do with your look the whole day?”

So that was what he meant by the quick pace in mind? Well, on his part, Kenma is considerate. He knows she wants to talk about something as well.

She places her fingers lightly by his shoulder, barely pressing weight. Is that how it came across to him? Oh no.

Mai shakes her head. “It's not that I'm mad or anything… no.”

She’s got her own issues as well, that’s all… Looking down, she saw how Kenma’s pants aren't much ready to spell out his problems yet, so Mai started. I am getting him worked out ever since earlier as well, is that it?

“I’m just… aroused.” She hopes at the back of her mind as well, he’s feeling the same by the bop of his Adam’s apple.

Kenma blinks. “W-what?”

She rubs her legs once more, uncontrollably flustered.

“It’s just I saw how good you were– I mean, you’re always great as a setter– but I think it’s my hormones… it’s really been a while since I saw you guys play, an-and on how fired up you were earlier. I only see that whenever you’re playing against Shoyo’s team– I just found you hot.”

She barely got through, stumbling over her words on how fast she was sputtering her words.

He could only be rendered speechless by his girlfriend’s act.

All this time, it’s the same with Kenma.

So… what the fuck? They were just looking sullen all day because they were preying and just have the hots for each other???

“Is t-that so?” His sigh of relief came off as a chuckle. Good. It was just a different kind of tension. Period.

She just prolonged it but it’s basically what got her so worked up. Especially how Kenma is so fixated on how she's acting right now. She could only swallow up a bit of her hydration left, looking away at anything but his body.

His tone is in a controlled volume, speaking discreetly, he repeats his intention earlier now that that’s settled, with more bluntness now... “Want me to do something about it?”

“I’m fine with the idea…” Mai answered with an inquisitive look. With her grip on his arms, he took it as a cue to dive in.

He didn't waste any time as Kenma leaned in, pressing his body close to hers. Quite intensely, it is seen with his fervor pressing how much he was containing it all day. A bit too quick on how he’s shifting his touches by her hair, face, and her sides. But she’s as roused, Mai went to grab his hand, guiding him to put it up her shirt, pulling his hair with her other free hand.

“Mai…” He delves deeper into nibbling her lips.

She could only emit a deep sigh and moan in response, Kenma’s hand was already up her shirt, lifting the fabric of her shirt up. Just a bit that her bra is showing. He leans closer, sweats peeking through the fabric, further verifying her heated arousal.

Kenma places kisses by the gaps of her chest, in between her breasts. She stifles a mewl. “Hnm..gah… you’re giving me a hard time not to be quiet.” She whispers to the best of her ability. He continues to lick her skin, nibbling at the bare skin. He draws her bra up to uncover her nipples, both quickly at peak due to the handling of his lips and fingers.

Even with his look alone, she can feel his erratic touches pressing against hers. He moves up eye-level again, pressing both her arms up, she gets conscious and nervous at both her sweaty hands. Kenma remains persistent, pressing her down. This definitely will cause her to pool down her panties further.

He’s really going this far for a ‘quickie’ huh? Still keeping her arousal in mind, or is this one of his antics again? It’s painstakingly slow. Kenma knows this is too much risky and anxiety-inducing, yet… her wetness says otherwise.

Goddammit.

Her mind is hazy and clouded already– Mai no longer has any care for anything. She just wants to get this over with, this is beyond the waters that she expects to swim into, but the compulsive effect on her.

She wants more.

“J-just a bit, more…” Her moan spills as a restrained sigh. She practically begs as he’s touching anything, anything– but the gap between her legs. His hands lingered by the surface of her skirt. Mai hitches her breath as he skips over her core once again. “It’s been this morning that I wanted to touch myself, please? Kenma-kun…”

Man, he really did get her so aroused.

Kenma can’t even refuse especially since how she’s being too insistent and irresistible. He’s growing more turned on looking at how she’s desperate.

She’s not the type to want and be needy as she gets anxious, most definitely here where it’s a bit public. But to insist on making out in the open, the footsteps and shoe squeaks outside seem earshot close for their comfiness. It’s also thrilling.

Risky mode taken then.

Like a button that swiftly pressed on her skin, Mai lodging her lips passionately on his was the trigger that pushed them to go further. The hormones took over and blacked out a bit of Kenma’s control, grabbing hold of her waist a bit too lewdly on his torso. He humps his groin by hers, making her emit a sound unintentionally.

“Uh-hmm…” he tries to quiet her down again with a kiss, reaching under her skirt but it didn’t add to helping her shush. Kenma pulls away with a slight grin at his discovery of her bare legs.

“Why are you not in your gym shorts, hmmm?”

She's only wearing her skirt.

Mai feels Kenma’s veiny hands creep up her skirt, he pulls it up as he is staring into her eyes with a fiery passion. She felt the cold air expose her bare skin.

Even with the shelves blocking them, it still feels… embarrassing.

“Stop teasing, Kenma…” He just touches her, a bit damp from the sweat.

He gets down, lowering himself to his knees to take in the view of her. She's flushed red, with his eyes piercing through her as he breathes over her crotch.

She feels herself pool more.

“I spilled water earlier when I was preparing bottles, just before we’re wrapping up. That’s why… hngh… I changed–”

Her breath becomes off, turning shaky with his roaming and pressing fingers against the hem of her panties.

She gulps a breath.

“Always so clumsy of you, Mai,” he comments, now she’s wet for a whole entirely different reason. Both her legs gave up, her voice faltering after. “Haa…uh.”

She holds back a yelp, Kenma motions to stand her up again. “Stay still, Mai,” he instructs. But she almost buckles her legs as she had gone weak on his teasing.

Kenma licks her neck and bites her ear, making her let out a lewd mewl.

Almost like a purr by her ear, he whispers. “Keep quiet, Kitten.”

“H-how? You idio—”

Kenma suddenly touches her panties, sticky from her juices. She can no longer retort with how embarrassingly wet her pussy is already.

He cannot hold back any longer.

“Weren’t you also practically begging me to do this to you?” A thought also came into mind with Mai leaving traces and implications along the lines of ‘Kabedon’ for some time now, and her insistence to get one from him. He’s not one to disappoint, so okay, fine. Even if it’s not something on his alley. Kenma did the favor to make Mai’s dream come true.

He pins both of her hands harder, pressing them to the wall along with his face right up against her ear. Her mind burns with the idea.

Kenma continues by switching his grip on her hands with only one hand. He trails his finger by her swollen lips then lifting her chin using the other as he makes her look at her. “Answer me, Kitten.”

What the fuck is with the pet name?!

She swallows, having not been given a choice to escape. “Ye-yeah... but not in this setting.”

Not at this time at all that she imagines they’ll be doing this out and about. He’s practically falling apart as he is having a great time teasing her.

Both of her hands are locked, though loose enough to roam around his neck. She shudders at his hot breath near her sensitive ears. She doesn’t give in to freeing her hands, even as he’s pulling her closer into the kiss. She simply submits to Kenma.

He adjusts her legs, carrying her till she’s got her legs wrapped up in his drenched torso.

This is really out of character for Kenma, but seeing how Mai is so hot and bothered he gives in along with his sigh. Even if he does want to go down on her.

“We better make this quick,” he says, Mai practically breaks character as she squeals in delight, to put it bluntly. “You’re the best, Kenma.” she hugs him, a bit tangent to her smiling as if they’re not about to do something intense.

She tightens her legs around him momentarily before he puts them away. He pulls her panties to the side and then decides to pull them down, leaving one side on her leg.

She smiles to herself as she knows she would be well taken care of.

Her mind raced a thousand miles. As if honing to type paragraphs worth of worshiping his pretty long hands going in and out of her while his other is placed on her mouth to shut her pretty lips sealed.

Kenma quickly goes down, with her holding up her skirt as she tries to cover her whimpers.

He’s taking his good damn time eating her out, spreading his tongue by her clit and core back and forth. She holds back her arousal at how up to par he is slurping and sucking so loud.

Everything felt so soft and moist, it’s so fucking pleasing to the sensation. “Ahh, that’s-shit. Ha…” Her tone came off jittery. She wants to scream, but she needs to hold back every ounce of her patience, she's already trembling at this point.

Even the feeling of her breasts is phenomenal, how his free hand can bring her service, Kenma doesn't leave any neglect of any form. She cannot leave any praise for now as she’s opted to be quiet, even so, her mumbles are shaky to be coherent. Mai could only caress his skin, playing with his hair and gripping onto him as well to distract herself from moaning.

Mai fails miserably to be quiet so Kenma did the lovely favor with his pretty hands to cover her mouth and shut her up.

Using his lips as well as he pumps his finger into her, he thrusts in deeper along his fervent kiss, letting Mai taste herself in the kiss.

He moves his two digits all over in a different direction and speed, spilling more of her arousal tightening around him.

Just when Mai is about to cum, Kenma’s hand withdraws.

As he stopped his fingers, she winces. Mai turned to him with the most confused expression upon seeing Kenma's deadpan stare.

In the most serious tone, he says. “Your trial has expired.”

“Kozumeeee!” She almost whispered a hiss, Kenma covered her mouth, hand still drenched in her juices.

She is supposed to be mad, but Mai quickly catches on with another rustle nearby. They’re cut a bit short cause he also heard someone outside. When the sound subsided, the heightened sensation quickly shifted with Mai feeling his hardened length pushed into her in a cinch.

Kenma had prepared her wet core well as to why his movements easily let his dick go in and out of her. And the tightness in her is just unholy.

“Fuck, shh-“ He also covered her mouth as sounds slip off uncontrollably. “Ah-mmhm.”

The two especially Mai tried their best to muffle her moans.

The thrill of it all being outside— the possibility of getting caught—really did add factors for her part. Even the moist wall she grabbed hold of it, she loses all her senses as Kenma fucks her senseless to the wall. The sound of skin slapping and the feeling of him grabbing hold of both her waist to maneuver inside her. As much as she doesn’t want this to end, fuck- this is so risky.

Mai holds onto his wrist, tapping it a bit as a signal that she’s close— it’s not that much of a gap between them when Kenma let her go down to her knees to catch every ounce of his cum in her mouth as he ejaculates.

That was mentally exerting.

Another rustling outside became an indication to stop, but they laughed it off anyways, they quickly fixed their clothes. But Mai steals another kiss before breaking off. This is anything on her agenda for today. Kissing by the side of the gym, a supply closet even. Good thing she had her schedule free. It isn't such a bad idea after all…

Wait, oh right— wasn’t he supposed to say something else before they got wrapped up in the pleasure too much?

“What was it that you’re going to tell me?” she asks with burning cheeks. After a long-heated kiss, (the last kiss was a lie) for the last time as Mai insisted, lips still fresh on a string of saliva.

“Oh, it’s just I wanted to treat you along after training.” Kenma replies. He had been thinking the whole morning as to why he was also a bit preoccupied.

“We’ll also be there! Now, can you please hand me out some extra balls, Kozume? I didn't let yours turn blue— so get to it!” They heard a sudden thump by the door. Both of them flinched. Kenma covered her mouth, frantic as he looked back at her as wide-eyed as him. They hear Kuroo now adjacent to the wall as his voice is now louder. “How long are you going to keep yourselves in there?”

The two flushed a shade darker, their friend did the favor to pretend it was just Kenma in here and not blow their cover huh?

As for Kuroo, he’s heard at least more than enough that he should’ve left sooner.

※ my masterlist | #enjeiwrites ※

#kenma kozume #kenma #kenma fluff #kenma smut #kodzuken #nekoma #kenma: flushed series #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu fic #enjeiwrites #MYGOODNESS THIS TOOK ME SO LONG IM ALIVE YALL

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theunbearableweightofpedropascal · 8 months

Text

Peaches (kinktober #2)

Warnings: dark content that may be triggering (CNC, blowjob, p in v, fingering)

A/N: This is different from my other fics and has content that may not be everyone's cup of tea. Proceed with caution.

Kink: Predator v Prey and CNC (consensual non consensual).

Word Count: 2.5k

Throughout your time dating Frankie most of your information came from his actions. He wasn’t particularly quiet about his love but his actions were always louder. When he could make it in time he would pick up flowers for you on his way home from work. If you two were texting during the day and mentioned feeling down, he would have food ordered by the time you got home. He even made sure to take care of all the logistics with your car, you can’t remember the last time you touched a gas pump.

The only slight inconsistency was in your sex life, it wasn’t bad, in fact it was the opposite. Never in your entire relationship were you left unsatisfied, but Frankie always seemed to hold back on being rough with you. At first you thought it was because he preferred gentle sex, however on the night of your first anniversary he let loose. There were bruises all over your body from his man-handling and your ass cheeks stung from him spanking you. Yet you never heard him moan as loud as that night.

In the morning, Frankie was distraught with his work until he realized it didn’t upset you. After that you kept asking him questions about his fantasies, assuring him it was a safe space. He admitted to fantasizing about bending you over and taking you roughly. Unwillingly.

You couldn’t lie and say it didn’t have some appeal despite its taboo nature. The both of you started talking about limits and your safe word, Frankie was worried you were only doing this to appease his sick desires. Though you probably wouldn’t have thought of it you couldn’t lie and say it didn’t turn you on. But even with him opening up it didn’t seem like he was particularly excited to flesh out his fantasy.

With Frankie’s birthday only being a matter of months away, you book a cabin for the weekend. You spent those months preparing and reading up on how other couples incorporated it into their sex lives. One particular woman said her husband was in the army and they decided to add predator versus prey to their CNC scenario. He gave her a head start before he “captured” her.

Just reading about it got you worked up so you decided to show Frankie after he got off work.

“It may have been your fantasy initially but I want to do this with you.” You stand behind him as he reads through the page you printed out. “We’ve already talked about everything and don’t you want your 46th birthday to be special?”

“You’ve had this cooked up since you booked that cabin huh?” Frankie sighs, he can’t deny how attractive it is that you want this just as much as he does. “As long as you’re sure.”

“How many times do I have to say yes?” Frankie laughs at your exasperation, “We’re taking your military stuff so you should go dig that out of the attic.” Before he can comment you sauntered off towards your shared bedroom.

…….

The area you picked is secluded with your closest neighbors being 3 miles in every direction. You didn’t need anyone getting the wrong idea of what would be happening. The heavy leaves on the trees were a deep green that served to keep out the sunlight and make the cabin look more eerie.

Frankie slowed the truck to a stop and let the engine cut out before turning to you. He made it clear he wanted you to make the first moves until it was time, unwilling to make you feel uncomfortable. You review the text on how to retrieve the keys and lean over to kiss Frankie.

You weren’t aiming for a peck but you were shocked at how quick Frankie was to suck on your bottom lip. Your hands found their way to his greying curls before tugging, and his hands reached out to grip your waist. As much as you were enjoying him you pressed your hands to his shoulders before breaking away first.

“Come on, I have to get ready.” Excitement fills you while you open the back door to get your bags.

“I got it, you go scope out the house.” Frankie doesn't have to tell you twice before you head up the porch steps. The lockbox thankfully opens at the code the owner gave you. Although this cabin is clearly on the older side, the inside has modern renovations but the charm isn’t lost. They kept all of the wood fixtures and the original fireplace but the furniture is definitely of this century.

Dark brown wood encases the hallway leading to the bedroom, even the lock on the door used a skeleton key. Frankie’s arms circle around your waist and his nose finds its spot in the curve of your neck. You feel him breathing in your scent and it only furthers your arousal from earlier.

“What’s the safe word?” His question catches you slightly off-guard.

“Peaches.” It takes a couple of seconds but you answer with ease.

“And if I ask you what your color is?” You wish you could say his insistence on your comfort was annoying.

“Red for stop, yellow is slow down, and green is good.” His arms tighten around you before he releases you altogether. When you turn around you see he’s brought only your bags into the room.

“I figured I’d get ready out there and you take your time in here.” Frankie’s hands were planted in his pockets to keep from fidgeting them. A simple nod and a smile were what Frankie saw before making his way out of the room.

Francisco hadn’t been able to try this with anyone else. He’d never been comfortable enough to admit he enjoyed something so depraved. But you were just as debased as he was and he could admit that’s what he loved so much about you.

With great precision Frankie began to put on his costume, at least that’s what it always felt like to him. Whenever it was on he had a role to play and it would be nothing like the attentive and caring man you’ve come to know. While lacing up his boots he made sure his pants were tucked into them like he was always taught. His vest was taut over his stomach and he had it on the loosest setting. The standard oil hat was discarded next to his folded clothes on the couch.

The only weapons he was arming himself with were his hunting knife and a pistol that wasn’t loaded. On his way out to the porch, he made sure they were strapped in tightly. Waiting for you to come out didn’t take long and Frankie had never been so pleased by the sight of you. A white satin nightgown fell just above your knees with a see-through but thin outer coat. His dark eyes travel to where your breasts are barely contained in the dress.

Silence from Frankie both unnerves and excites you and you realize he must be in character. His face is as stoic as you’d ever seen it but you know he likes what he sees. While taking in his uniform you mentally thank that lady for sharing her sex life with the internet. Without thought you reach out to touch the pistol strapped to his thigh. Your wrist is caught in the tight hold of his hand as he stares down at you with void eyes.

“3 minutes.” He releases your wrist and takes a step back.

A quick second is spent turning your head frantically to find which way would be best, but all paths look the same. You take off down the porch steps and to the left. The thundering of your heart transfers throughout your body while you move faster. Right before you disappear into the tree line, you chance a look at Frankie only to find him gripping the ledge of the porch like a caged animal.

Regret fills you with house slippers as your choice of running shoes. Cold air reminds you of how impractical your nightgown is as well. The sound of a branch snapping sends chills down your spine, there is no way it’s time for him to come after you.

Frankie has a way of making his presence known no matter where he is. Usually, it’s like a comforting hug but right now it feels like a shadow dreadfully looming over you. As much as you want to stop and survey your surroundings you know that’s exactly when he’ll get you.

A routine of breathing in through your nose and out your mouth helps keep your equilibrium under control. That calmness is abruptly disturbed when a stray branch catches your overcoat, instead of wasting your time pulling you hurriedly pull the garment off your shoulders. Dread consumes you when you hear heavy footfalls heading straight to you. With less than a second to think you creep over to the biggest tree you can find and hide behind it.

Your hand covers your mouth in case the puffs of breath leaving your mouth are too loud. His steps slow down and you can assume he’s seen your missing clothing on the branch. With widened eyes, you watch from your peripheral if he makes any move toward your hiding place. Luckily you hear him begin to take off in the direction he believes you went in.

Quickly and quietly you bound in the other direction letting the adrenaline and fear fuel your steps. Intrunsically you know that distraction won’t keep Frankie long and this little game of yours is coming to an end.

The familiar tree line lets you see the house-baked in a burnt orange from the falling sun. The beautiful view is obstructed when you run into Frankie’s chest out of seemingly nowhere. You look up at him only to see those dead eyes staring back at you. Though it may be moot you try and slip away from him, only to feel the cold sharp blade of his hunting knife. The back of your neck is held still by his hand.

“You think you’re so clever huh?” His hot breath fans over your face while you’re frozen in place. “All that and I’m still gonna have my way with you.” Your thighs rub together at his debased words.

Frankie uses the hand on your neck to force you to the ground and the dirt digs into your knees. While on all fours you look up at him with tears rimming your eyes.

“Please don’t do this.” Your small voice is easily heard in the quiet forest.

“Color?” Frankie pauses the scene worrying he may have gone too far.

“Green.” You are quick to quell any doubt he has.

“What are you gonna do to stop me?” Frankie’s hands move to his belt as he begins to loosen his pants. “Get on your knees.”

Knowing what predicament you’re in you listen and face him on your knees. The dirt and rock dig into your skin in a way that will soon be uncomfortable. Frankie manages to pull out his half-hard cock and begins stroking it in front of your face.

“Open your mouth.” He drags his cock along your lips while he waits for you to obey his orders.

As soon as you oblige he slides halfway into your mouth, the feel of your throat gagging has his hand sliding to the back of your head. Slowly but surely he slips further into your mouth reveling in the tears streaming down your face. Groans fill the air at how tight and wet your mouth is. He feels the spit dribbling down his balls while you swallow him whole.

Frankie slightly bends down to slide your strap down so he can grope your tit. The groan that vibrated in your mouth sent Frankie’s hips stuttering deeper into your mouth. His rough handling of you has the wet spot in your panties growing. He pulls himself fully out of your mouth with a pop and watches your swollen lips glisten. His thumb juts out to circle your lips while he appreciates the wrecked sight of you.

“Turn around and spread your legs.” His blown pupils make your body move in a hypnotic-like state to obey him.

When you turn around you make sure to hike up the satin material before spreading yourself before him. The pretty white dress is now stained with dirt and saliva, the thought has Frankie throbbing. He loves the fantasy of ruining you.

“Pull your panties down.” His voice was low yet commanding and you wasted no time hooking your thumbs into your panties.

You pull down your soaked panties that are sticking to your core. Frankie’s tongue darts out when he finally sees your cunt. He settles himself behind you and uses his hands to spread you further before spitting on your pussy. A surprised gasp from you turns into a moan when he begins pulling the tip in and out.

Rough and unforgiving hands find themselves gripping your waist and brace yourself with elbows and hands in the dirt. Your breath grows heavier the further Frankie sinks into you. The slow drag of his cock steadily gets faster and your walls clench around him. Despite your ass clapping against his lower stomach with every thrust, he decides he needs to feel more of you.

Once you feel like you’ve finally caught your breath Frankie’s hand slides its way over your throat. His mouth is next to your ear and you can hear the slight whimper in his pants. The way he grinds himself into you helps to rub against that spongey spot for you.

“This pussy was made for me.” He can't hold back his moans when you feel so good. “Can’t let you go after this.” His hand on the ground grips the dirt to ground himself.

All you can do is pant and moan like a bitch in heat. You feel almost delirious the way Frankie knows all of your spots. His balls start to clench up and he can feel his hips start to lose their rhythm. He hunches himself into you one last time before he empties himself into you. His breathing in your ear becomes slower and longer while he tries to calm himself down.

“Thank you.” His soft voice once again back as he slowly slides out and kisses your shoulder. Frankie hauls the both of you upright before fixing himself back in his pants.

“Happy Birthday Fransico.” Your tired smile makes his heart thunder in his chest.

On the short walk back to the cabin he holds you in his arms so you don’t tire yourself out more. He immediately takes you to the bathroom where he fills the tub for you to bathe. He helps you undress and holds his hand out for you to safely step in.

You lean against the tub with your eyes closed as he washes your body. The hot water almost puts you to sleep until you feel Frankie’s thick fingers at your entrance. He doesn’t need to warm you up before he’s pumping them in and out of you while you grip his bicep. His mouth is next to your ear, forming words to tell you how much he loves you.

@emilianamason , @harriedandharassed , sorry for the late tag.

#triple frontier fic #triple frontier smut #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

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mushroommanchanterelle · 2 months

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Part 3 of the Shakarian fic I'm writing

Wrex glances over at the elevator as it descends. There was only one person that ever came down on a daily basis. As the door opened, his suspicions were confirmed. Dressed in her uniform, hair pulled back into a low ponytail, was Eleanor Shepard. Garrus stops working for a moment, listening to the familiar cadence of her footsteps. She walked softly, or at least softer than Kaiden ever did. Human footsteps always sounded different than turian, krogan, or quarian, and Garrus was adept at telling the difference at this point. Eleanor walks past him, giving the briefest smile in his direction before greeting Wrex. Garrus’s mandibles clatter against the plates of his face as she walks off, his heart pounding, his mind racing from the talk that had just finished up.

Tali exchanges a glance with Garrus and pats his shoulder, excusing herself back to the engineering bay, no doubt to have a lengthy conversation with engineer Adams about why there was so much fuzzy pastel fluff in the maintenance hatches.

Eleanor looks up at Wrex and kicks her foot back and forth, blowing a strand of hair out from in front of her face. Soldier stands against warrior, neither saying a single word for at least an entire minute.

“Wrex, listen… I was wrong to say what I did. I’m sorry.”

He rolls his shoulders. This wasn’t the first apology he’d heard over the years. Usually it was more half hearted, an attempt to not get thrown face first across a bar.

“I didn’t know. I still don’t know. The genophage is… It’s still something I’m learning about. They don’t really cover it back at home.”

“Doubt they would. It’s not some pretty little lesson taught to schoolgirls. Your ignorance doesn’t bother me.”

She sighs and looks down, putting her hands behind her back.

“Still, I’m gonna make an effort to do better in the future. You’re lending a hand here. It’s the least I can do.”

“You do whatever helps you sleep soundly at night, Shepard.”

The krogan shifts to the side, the harsh lighting of the vehicle bay reflecting off of his bulky armor. His weapon, too, glistened under the fluorescent lights above, catching Shepard’s eye. She looks it over, earning a puzzled look from Wrex.

“What?”

“That’s uh… that’s a cool shotgun you’ve got there.”

“This thing? Picked it up off a dead turian during a raid. It’s nothing special. Cheap ammo, gets the job done.”

Eleanor stands back up, her posture relaxing.

“Turian shotguns are nothing to scoff at. Personally, I’m more into salarian stuff. They make a shotgun that shoots grenades! What I wouldn’t give to get my hands on one of them.”

“Ha! You would like something like that! Gotta give ‘em credit, those bastards know how to make something with a punch. The only problem is the lack of recoil. Guess their frail bodies can’t handle it, huh?” Wrex leans against the wall, punctuating his sentence with a hearty laugh. The tension in the room eases as the two smile and laugh together. Garrus watches on as they speak, an expression of blatant longing in his eyes as the turian detective pauses his work.

Eleanor shakes her head with a smile. “Yeah, no recoil, but there’s an explosion. I think that compensates enough.”

Wrex looks over Eleanor’s shoulder, catching Garrus’s eye. He nudges Shepard, gesturing over towards Garrus.

“You know, he’s been getting into shotguns lately.”

“Wait really? I thought he preferred something a bit more… I don’t know, precise? He’s not exactly a messy kind of guy.”

Wrex shrugs his shoulders.

“Who knows with that one. Probably doesn’t know what he’s doing though. You might want to let him know a few things so the poor bastard doesn’t hurt himself.”

Eleanor thinks a minute, then nods.

“Yeah probably. I’ll go talk to him about it. Thanks, Wrex.” Just before she turns around, Garrus looks to Wrex and silently mouths a thank you. He straightens his posture as Eleanor walks over to greet him. Near immediately, a waterfall of information spills from her lips, and he drinks up every drop. Wrex smiles to himself and closes his eyes.

“Knock ‘em dead, kid,” he thinks to himself as he drones out the sound of Shepard excitedly, and excessively, talking about the intricacies of shotguns compared to the rifles Garrus was more used to.

#Uncle Urdnot #wrex #urnot wrex #garrus vakarian #garrus #shakarian #commander shepard #tali'zorah #tali #mass effect #mass effect fanfiction #mass effect fanfic #fanfiction #I promised more mass effect #fluff

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regalbanshee · 2 years

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Mr Hale

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Peter Hale x reader

You are Stiles' twin sister, older by 7 minutes.

Word Count: ~400

As per usual, Scott and Stiles were talking, completely ignoring my quite obvious presence right beside him. They had economics next, which, thank the lord, I didn't have to go to. I had a free period, but honestly it was always just as bad as having a normal lesson. As per school rules, I could go home if I wanted to, but not wanting to have to walk the 30 minutes to get home, I opted to wait until Stiles had finished so I could sneak a lift home in his jeep.

"Well I have a free period now, so... I'm going to hang about until you're ready to go, Stiles. See ya, I guess." Trying to catch their attention for just a moment failed yet again, so I just left. I walked out to the playing field, walking across the empty field to the bleachers, even if it was raining and everyone preferred to stay inside. This way it was quiet and I didn't have to worry about anyone talking to me. I didn't know exactly when I started crying but I knew why. Ever since Stiles met Scott more than 10 years ago they had been inseparable. Not that I cared much, but as we all grew older, they just pushed me away more and more. And now what with Scott being a werewolf and Stiles suddenly having the ability to know everything about a supposedly mythical creature, I was excluded even more. I went to all the pack meetings, but I wasn't anything special and didn't have anything to contribute, I could tell I wasn't needed or wanted.

Really, the only reason I went was Peter Hale. He never joined the meeting, he just sat, brooding, on the staircase. I didn't know much about him, just that he was increasingly protective of me. Like, whenever someone made a snarky comment, directed towards me, normally Aiden or Malia, a low growl could be heard from the staircase, and Peter would be staring daggers at the person, until they were so intimidated they apologised.

As if he knew when I was thinking of him, when I looked up from the grass in front of me, I saw Peter walking across the field from the woods.

"Hey Y/N." He sat beside me on the cold bench. "What's up?"

"Nothing much, just waiting for Stiles." Bitterness crept through when I spoke my brothers' name. Peter noticed.

"What did he do now?" Slightly amused.

"Same old, same old."

"Well, I've got a tub of (your favourite ice cream flavour) with your name on it, so what d'ya say? Come back with me, we'll put some crappy TV on and eat ice cream until we fall into a food coma." I smiled slightly, staring at the ground. I looked up, seeing a grin on Peter's face.

"Okay, Peter."

A/N: Do you prefer it when I write in this first person (so reader is narrating - I/me), or as reader insert (Y/N, she/he/they)?

Requests are open! Go to my pinned post for information on who and what I will write and how to request!

Thanks for stopping by and if you enjoyed this be sure to check out my other stuff.

If you liked this, please like or reblog, it really helps.

If you want to be added to a tag list for future Teen Wolf fics, or any other list (Criminal Minds, Supernatural, Marvel, One Chicago or NCIS) let me know, either by commenting on one of my posts, sending me an ask or messaging me.

#peter hale x reader #peter hale #teen wolf #stilinski sibling #scott mccall #stiles stilinski

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heyiwrotesomethings · 2 years

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She’s the Housekeeper Prt2: Anya’s Reward

Yor Briar/ Forger x She/Her Reader

A/N: Prt1 Prt3 Sorry for the wait, but part two is finally here and part three is already in the works! I hope you all like it! I feel a little iffy about this retelling of episode 5, but ep 6 is going well so far! I am curious to know if you guys mind following the original story so closely or if you would prefer some kind of departure from the original plot. Since this was originally just going to be a oneshot, I’m not sure what people would like to see from this fic. Whatever happens, I’m fairly certain I’ll end this story when season one ends or sooner depending on people’s interest. I’d like to get to Yuri’s episode at the very least, but I know there is a big edition to the family coming up that I want to see and write about 👀. Thanks for reading! Word Count: 2,348

With Anya’s enrollment to Eden nearly secure, everyone was eager to relax. Just one more phone call, and everything would be set in stone.

While Anya colored and watched tv, Loid washed the dishes from lunch. Yor dozed on the couch with her head resting on (Y/n)’s thighs while her partner read a book and ran the fingers of her free hand through Yor’s hair, only stopping long enough to turn the pages before continuing on. The atmosphere was peaceful,

And then the phone rang.

Loid picked up on the second ring, his hands still dripping with water and dish soap as he greeted the caller and listened intently to whoever was on the line.

(Y/n) craned her neck to gauge his reactions and felt hope rise within her when he smiled and his eyes took on an excited gleam. Loid thanked the caller and hung up.

Anya leapt to her feet, “Did I do it, papa?” She asked. Though judging by the look on her face she already knew the answer and squealed happily when Loid picked her up high over his head and smiled proudly at her.

“You did it, Anya!” He declared, swinging the little girl around.

“Congratulations!” (Y/n) clapped quietly, but the combined noise and shift in the energy of the room caused Yor to awaken anyway.

“Congratulations…” Yor slowly sat up and peaked over the couch, rubbing the corner of her eye, “what are we congratulating?”

“Miss Anya is going to Eden, honey.” (Y/n) informed the sleepy woman who immediately perked up.

“Congratulations Miss Anya!”

“Anya is going to school!” The little girl proudly proclaimed. All of her dancing had really paid off!

During their mini celebration, a round of knocks sounded from the door that put everything on pause.

“I thought you said no one was coming today!” (Y/n) hissed quietly. She rolled off of the couch and disappeared down the hall to her and Yor’s room. There wouldn’t be enough time to change into her ‘uniform’ so she would have to hide until whoever the person was left.

“No one was supposed to come,” Loid confirmed, but looking through the peep hole he called back, “It’s alright, it’s my friend Franky. You can come back.”

“Hey! Heard the good news so I thought I’d come by and bring a little something to celebrate with!” Franky greeted Loid with a couple bottles of wine as the door swung open to let him in.

“Thank you, Franky. That’s very kind.” Yor took the bottles from his arms and put them on the table, already itching to pop a bottle open.

“How do you know already?” (Y/n) asked. “We literally got the call only a few minutes ago.”

“Ah, I just have a sixth sense for these kind of things, you know?” Franky laughed. He noticed the warning look Loid gave him and was reminded that (Y/n) and Yor weren’t in the loop. It could be troublesome if they thought Loid was shady for having Franky get him the test answers.

(Y/n) gave him a questioning look, but her eyes happened to flick in Yor’s direction and the third glass of wine she was pouring and she didn’t care anymore.

“Yor, slow down. That’s too much!” She scolded, running past the men and Anya to try to cut her partner off.

Yor saw her coming and already being as drunk as she was, she quickly chugged the rest of the glass. It was like trying to get a piece of plastic away from a cat.

“No more of that.” (Y/n) ordered sternly, poking Yor in the chest.

Yor tried to pout, but quickly fell apart into a giggling mess, bumping her head hard into (Y/n)’s chest.

“You are such a light weight.” She griped, helping Yor down into a chair.

“Did she save any for us?” Franky laughed, plopping into a seat opposite the couple and filling a glass for himself.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I don‘t know what got into her.”

“Anya wants fruit juice!”

“Of course, sweetie. Oh,” Before (Y/n) could get up, Yor wrapped around her like a sloth, “Loid can you do it. I have another child to look after at the moment.”

“Poke, poke, poke.” Yor giggled, pressing her finger against (Y/n)’s cheeks and nose. (Y/n) grabbed her hand and forced it down back into Yor’s lap.

“Right.” Loid retrieved the juice for Anya with an amused smile.

“So Anya, have you told your dad what kind of reward you want for getting into Eden? He’ll buy you anything you want you know.” Franky declared with a troublesome grin.

Anya sat quietly for a minute, swaying her dangling feet to and fro.

“I don’t need papa to buy me anything.” She said, looking down modestly, “I would like to do something though.”

“Sure! Just say the word and your papa will do it!” Franky cheered after taking another swig of wine, Loid gave him a tired glare, but turned to Anya with a reassuring smile.

“Anya wants papa to save her from a castle!” Anya spoke resolutely, pointing to the tv as Bondman was zip-lining into a castle.

“A castle, hm?” (Y/n) gave Loid a look that said, ‘good luck with that, buddy’ and Loid rubbed his forehead.

“That is not a very realistic request, Anya. Isn’t there something else you would rather do?”

“C’mon, it’s more doable than you think,” Franky sat back in his chair, “that castle got remodeled as a theme park. It can be rented out.”

Loid closed his eyes, thinking, then he nodded.

“I need to make a phone call.”

***

“So you can just make a phone call and get a private plane a couple hours later? What kind of psychiatrist are you?” (Y/n) asked as she helped both Anya and Yor with their seatbelts. She thought hiring a private plane was a little too bougie for the man to afford. Especially when his profession apparently included beating the snot out of his patients.

“I have my sources. Here,” Loid attempt to divert (Y/n)’s attention with a glass of wine, “you didn’t get to have any at home.”

“Someone has to keep an eye on her.” She gestured to Yor, but she took the glass anyway, holding it out of reach of Yor’s grabby hands, “actually, maybe a little wouldn’t hurt.”

“Fank you berry mush fur alwaysh looking out fur me, lub youuu.”

“Shhh, Yor, I know— hey! Where did you get that wine bottle?”

While (Y/n) wrestled the bottle away with one hand, not an easy feat, Loid started the plane and took off, Franky and Anya cheered as the plane ascended into the air and found its cruising altitude.

Before long, the castle came into sight, glowing against the darkness of the night sky.

“Looks pretty good, don’t you think?” Franky grinned over his shoulder at Anya.

“Anya is excited!” The little girl’s eyes gleamed while she pressed her face against the glass.

“It is a very pretty sight.” (Y/n) said, peeking out of Anya’s window as well.

“Show prettyyy.” Yor agreed, though her eyes hadn’t left her partner’s body for most of the plane ride and now wasn’t much different.

Loid found a place to land and the Forger’s and Company tumbled out of the plane and into the grand, empty castle.

Franky and Anya ran around for a minute or two before Anya stopped, a small frown on her face.

“What’s wrong, Anya?” Her father asked.

“It doesn’t feel right without servants and enemies. It makes me sad.”

“I know, right? Poor little Princess,” Franky shot Loid a disappointed pout of his own, “papa better step up his game.”

Loid’s eye twitched.

“Where are you going?” (Y/n) asked Loid as Yor clumsily spun her around the ballroom.

“I need to make a phone call.”

***

“Seriously, what is your deal? How did you get all these people so fast?” (Y/n) inquired. The ballroom had transformed into a lively party before her very eyes. She didn’t care what unorthodox practices he held, there was no way he was making this kind of money as a psychiatrist.

Loid opened his mouth to craft a flawless lie, but it was unneeded as (Y/n) had to stop Yor from disappearing into the crowd of spies turned party goers. Loid was actually thankful for the distractions a drunk Yor provided. (Y/n) was too observant and curious for her own good.

He took the stage as Franky dictated and sent out his message to the crowd before handing the reins back to the informant who began a flawless theatrical performance and set the scene.

“Here is our star, Princess Anya!”

“And here is the spy who is going to save me, Loidman!” Anya beamed, directing the spotlight onto Loid.

“And our villain Count Scruffy!” She continued, the light fell back on Franky who rubbed his hands together dastardly.

“And mahh, ah, Ms. (Y/n) will be mama’s keeper!”

“Seems a little on the nose, but okay.” (Y/n) mumbled with a mirthful smile and gave a little wave to the crowd as the light fell on her and Yor.

“And mama will be… whatever.” Anya finished, causing Yor’s mouth to fall open in shock.

“I’ll need your help to keep Loidman out of my way subordinates, keep him away as long as you can!” Franky called out with a evil laugh.

He ushered Anya, (Y/n) and Yor into pod attraction that steadily began to raise higher.

“If you want Princess Anya back, come get her! Scruffy scruff scruff!” Franky laughed watching Loid grow smaller and smaller the further away they got from the floor.

“Good luck!” (Y/n) chuckled at Loid’s face. He looked a little out of his depth.

Before long, a breeze wafted around them and they were outside. (Y/n) and Yor watched on with varied degrees of amusement as a short quiz ensued, leading to Loid having to put on a Bondman costume. It was nothing extreme, but watching Loid blush before putting that cheap mask over his eyes made (Y/n) laugh.

Then the action really kicked off.

“This is like, the production value of a blockbuster movie.” (Y/n) commented, watching Loid fight henchman and dodge the giant balls being shot at him. “Wow, he can really move.”

“And so can we!” Franky said with another evil laugh, making the balloon pod rise above the tower.

“Save me, Loidman!” Anya called out as the balloon ascended.

Loid scaled the steps of the tower with impressive form and dexterity, but when before he reached the top, Franky was off again. Loid leapt from the castle tower and zip-lined to the end of the line of Count Scruffy and his crew.

“I’m surprised you made it this far Loidman, but I won’t give you the Princess!”

“Save me, Loidman!” Anya called out again. She was having the time of her life.

“Hand over the Princess.” Loid gave the command with a lackluster delivery.

(Y/n) snickered again, covering her face in her hands and for but a moment, let go of Yor’s arm. That would prove to be a grave error on her part. A whoosh of air, and when (Y/n) looked up, Yor was up out of her seat and wobbling down the steps towards Loid.

“The most powerful witch in the world! Free from her keeper’s shackles,” Franky rolled with the change easily, “Go, Yorticia!”

“Oh no.” (Y/n) groaned. Wherever this was going it couldn’t possibly be good. She got to her feet and followed after Yor, but even drunk Yor was faster than her.

“Shit!” She hissed under her breath, quickening her pace as Yor threw a deadly kick at Loid’s head that he barely managed to escape with little more than a scratch. “Yor, that’s enough!”

If Yor heard her lover, she gave no indication, instead charging Loid again.

“Anyone who triiies t’ kinnnap Miss Anya, will not geh away alive!”

Yor then proceeded to beat the absolute stuffing out of Loid. All the while (Y/n) ran to catch up and tried to catch Yor’s attention. If she accidentally killed Loid that would be bad on so many levels!

Then by the grace of god, Yor pivoted harshly on the heel of her shoe, snapping it. The sudden detriment to her balance worked with her drunken state to send her crashing to the ground. (Y/n) only made it just in time to catch her head before it hit against the cobble stone.

“Is she alright?” Loid asked, sounding every bit as winded as he looked.

“Fell asleep. Finally.” (Y/n) breathed a sigh of relief. No one would have to die tonight.

“Scruffy scruffy scruff! And so the witch is back in the hands of the keeper! Good work getting this far, Loidman! But you won’t defeat me s—“

Loid smacked Franky none too gently in the face, sending the informant hurdling to the ground. He walked passed without a second glance and stopped in front of Anya and offered his hand, flushed with embarrassment at having to keep playing along.

“I’m here to rescue you, Princess Anya.” He mumbled.

“Papa!” Anya yelled excitedly, running up to hug him.

There was not a dry eye among his fellow spies as the fireworks were set off, signaling the end of the glorious chase.

(Y/n) watched the father-daughter duo talk from a distance, smiling warmly. They were so sweet! She looked down at Yor, snoring peacefully in her lap and brushed the sleeping woman’s bangs from her eyes before turning her attention back to the fireworks lighting up the sky.

(Y/n) sighed, she sure hoped Loid was strong, because she would need help carrying Yor into the plane. She was almost pure muscle. She heard Yor whine after a particularly loud boom, no doubt her head was already starting to ache. (Y/n) pressed her hands over Yor’s ears, doing her best to muffle the fireworks.

Yor snuggled closer and her hand came up to rest against one of (Y/n)’s, a peaceful smile appeared on her flushed face and (Y/n)’s eyes softened in return.

What a night it had been.

#spy family x reader #spy x family x reader #yor x reader #yor briar x reader #yor forger x reader #yor briar #yor forger

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ssahotstuff · 2 years

Text

Aaron Hotchner Playlist Collection 💕

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!BAU Reader

FIRST IN THE PLAYLIST FIC COLLECTION 💕

I can dream about you by Dan Hartman found here

All of these are inspired by songs in my playlist that remind me of Hotch heheheh enjoy my loves 🥰

These are all stand-alone and not part of any new series!

Warnings: A brief scene of violence to the main character! But no real serious injury, happy ending still, mentions of infidelity, (Haley was having an affair in this scenario), feelings for a married man (oops we aren't really sorry) smut, penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it up) oral Fem receiving, fingering, cursing

Word count: 4.9k

Truthfully, you hadn't done anything wrong other than pine over a married man. Not only was he your boss, but he was way out of your league. He was your partner in the field for over a year now, and you knew for a fact that he had your back in every way possible.

Except for when it came to Haley.

"Their divorce was finalized this morning. That's why he's late," JJ informed you after one too many glances at his closed office door. After he found out about Haley's infidelities, he served her papers and no one questioned him. You were there for him as much as you could be, you all were, but he wasn't the type of man to just let you all in. He was lonely in his melancholy, and he preferred it that way.

"I hope he's okay," Spencer said immediately after, spinning around in his chair. It was a paper work day, and it was nearing its final hour of torture. For the most part, you were all waiting around to see if Hotch showed after court or not. You'd finished your paperwork an hour earlier, and now you were all waiting, speculating on the private life of your Supervising agent.

"He'll be fine. He knew Haley was up to something when she went to stay with her sister," JJ assured everyone, and it was true. None of you had missed his tear stained face the day he found out, and he'd been sleeping in his office ever since. No one asked, but slowly over the last few weeks he'd begun to open up and explain what was going on. You all felt horrible for him, but he was a hard man to comfort.

You'd had a small crush on him from your first day at the BAU, but the gold wedding band on his finger had been your bright red stop sign from doing anything beyond secretly admiring him. When the day came that his ring was no longer on his finger, you felt slightly less guilty for staring a fraction too long, or standing a little too close when you got the chance. If he'd ever suspected anything beyond the two of you being partners, he didn't let it show.

JJ and Spencer were the only two team members to know about your crush, and for obvious reasons. They were two of your closest friends, and when it came to romance, JJ was the most perceptive person you knew. Spencer was a bit more obvious when he called you out but you convinced him it was silly and to let it go. He voiced how he felt about it much more strongly after Hotch filed for divorce.

"Why don't you just talk to him? He served her, not the other way around," it was cold and the coffee in your hands did you no favors in warming you. Spencer had roped you into trying a new coffee shop out around the corner from the Academy the day Hotch announced he'd filed for divorce.

"Spencer, it's still too soon. Maybe in a year—"

"A year?!"

You shushed him when people started making off glances in your direction, chuckling at how unsubtle he could be sometimes.

"Maybe I'll just let him come to me. I'd never want to push any of his buttons. He's my partner," you reminded him, and Spencer nodded, sighing deeply.

"You don't think you'll feel differently a year from now?"

You shook your head, knowing just how deep Hotch's claws were sank into you, and he hadn't even had to try. In some forbidden way, you'd been bound to him since the day you'd met him, and you'd protect him and his heart with your life if given the opportunity.

But something had shifted when you came back from the coffee shop and joined the others. Hotch had turned cold towards you, and it happened sooner than you had time to prepare. It had given you whiplash, because normally he was your friend first, and your superior second, despite how he was with everyone else. He had an obvious soft spot for you, but that had all changed dramatically with no time for you to brace yourself for impact.

Instead, you'd been stuck in limbo, waiting on him to come back to normal. It hurt more than anything, because his entire attitude had changed. He'd never meet your eyes, almost as if there was some sort of anger towards you festering behind them, and if he made contact with you, it would bubble to the surface.

He'd starting avoiding you in the field as well, sending you with Reid or sometimes even Morgan, but never with him. You tried not to let the sting bother you, but everyone else saw it too, even if they didn't call Hotch out on his sudden change in behavior.

"Here he comes," Spencer whispered, and the three of you tried your hardest to look lost in conversation with each other so he didn't pick up on the fact that you were all waiting to see how he was doing. He didn't greet any of you, simply climbed the stairs to his office and slammed the door behind him.

"I'm assuming we should probably leave him alone for now," you told the others, volunteering JJ to deliver your reports to him while you and Spencer gathered your things and got ready to leave. When JJ joined you again, there was someone trailing shortly behind her, but they'd came from the opposite direction.

"Where is she?!"

You turned on your heel, Haley Hotchner red in the face and storming straight for you. Her hand made contact with your cheek, causing everyone in the room to gasp in shock. Before she could hit you again, JJ rushed forward and stepped between the two of you. You were more than confused, considering you'd only met her once before at a party that Rossi had hosted.

"That's for stealing my husband, you bitch!"

Spencer could only stand idle and watch the events unfold, too nervous to step in. You couldn't blame him, because you certainly hadn't signed up to be the target of Haley's fury.

"Haley, she hasn't done anything. You need to calm down," JJ rationalized, but the tears streaming down Haley's face said otherwise.

"No, right before Aaron filed, he was moaning her name in his sleep! Her name! How do you think I figured it all out, Y/n?!"

You shook your head, trying to explain that there was nothing going on between the two of you, but she refused to listen. Instead, she lunged forward again, so you took a cautious step back and dodged her just in time.

"Listen, Haley. Because of the respect I have for your ex husband, I refuse to entertain this. There's nothing going on between me and Hotch. I don't know why he said my name in his sleep, but from what I've heard, you aren't innocent at all, and if you want to leave with your dignity in tact, you should probably do it now," you tried your best to sound confident, your head held high despite the burning in your cheek, and the rage bubbling inside of you. How dare she come into your place of work and embarrass you over something Hotch said in his sleep.

"No, it happened more than once. I'm not stupid, despite what Aaron may be convinced of," you glanced towards his office door, which was still closed. He'd managed to miss all of the commotion.

"If you want to be mad at me, then fine. Be mad. But I haven't done anything wrong, and I'm leaving for the day," you pushed past her and walked with haste to the elevator, Spencer and JJ calling out to you to wait on them, but you pretended not to hear. Once the doors shut behind you, you let the tears fall. You had no one to hide from now that you were alone, and despite the fact that you knew there was nothing going on with the two of you, you felt guilty.

You'd developed feelings for a married man, and even though he was freshly divorced, it wasn't right. You had no idea what was going through Hotch's head at night, but surely it shouldn't have been the youngest, newest member of the team. It should have been his wife, and that's why she was so angry.

You managed to make it to the parking garage unnoticed by anyone else, quickly clambering into your car so you could check the damage. Her nail had left a nasty mark just below your eye, dried blood just beginning to coagulate. You took a wet wipe and tried your best to clean it up, removing most of your tear stained makeup in the process. A light tap at your window made you jump and your blood boil all at the same time, because Haley had followed you.

"I want to apologize!"

"Then do it through the glass. You're not hitting me again," you spat, watching the teary eyed woman carefully. She seemed sincere, but you still didn't trust her intentions.

"JJ told me you and Aaron are partners. I know how easy he is to fall for—"

You put your hand up and flung the door open, because nothing about what she was saying sounded like an apology.

"Stop. You're not going to sit here and try to trick me into telling you something that isn't true. He's my partner, Haley. I have his back, and vice versa. That's it."

Her shoulders fell, and she sighed, hands on her hips. Any other time, you would have been curious to know about Aaron's high school sweetheart. Now, you wanted nothing but to get away from her.

"It doesn't matter anymore. We're divorced," she reminded me, pointing to her naked ring finger.

"That doesn't change the fact that there's nothing going on between Hotch and me," you retorted, dismissing her with a wave of your hand so you could climb back into your car. She let you leave without a fuss, so you sped off, dialing JJ's number as soon as you'd pulled out.

"Are you okay?!"

"I'm fine, JJ. I just need a drink, or three. What are you and Spencer doing?"

You could hear commotion in the background, but it didn't sound like they were still in the office.

"Hotch hasn't called you? He invited everyone out to dinner to celebrate signing his divorce papers," she said flatly, and you rolled your eyes. He probably didn't even know about Haley showing up and causing a scene.

"I'll pass anyway. You guys go have fun. I'll see you tomorrow."

Hotch had single-handedly ruined your day without trying. Haley had blamed you for their divorce, and he was celebrating. You assumed he had just forgotten to call, or figured JJ would say something about it, but 3 months ago, he stopped calling you for anything, and that had hurt more than you'd ever let show. You didn't let the way you protected him change, and it didn't affect your professionalism, but it hurt what you thought was a halfway genuine friendship.

The walls of your apartment seemed emptier than ever, so you showered off the stress of the day and tried to make the most of your solitude. You'd barely finished an episode of your favorite show when your phone was ringing, Hotch's name flying across the screen.

"What?"

You normally wouldn't have been so abrasive, but he was the last person you wanted to talk to.

"You didn't come tonight," he shot back immediately, oblivious to the drama the day had held for you.

"Didn't feel like celebrating," you deadpanned, trying your best to get him to just hang up the phone and leave you alone.

"Are.. Are you alright?"

"Fine, Hotch. I was just going to bed."

"We'll see you tomorrow then. Goodnight, Y/n."

You hung up the phone without responding. He had no fucking clue.

✨✨✨

"Did you call her?"

JJ's voice cut through my thoughts. Y/n had hung up on me, which was unusual for her. Her mood was definitely off, which was upsetting because I'd been looking forward to seeing her the most.

"She was heading to bed," I replied, JJ and Spencer exchanging an awkward glance before JJ turned her attention back towards me.

"She's probably not too happy about the fact that your ex wife assaulted her in the office today," JJ said, slowly, carefully, as if she wasn't sure if she should tell me or not. Spencer cleared his throat, the two of them refusing to meet what I'm sure was an icy glare on my face.

"What?"

I couldn't hide the stunned expression on my face as Rossi and Morgan joined us. I immediately tried calling her back only to be greeted by her voicemail.

"Haley hit her?"

Spencer nodded, his head hung low. I wouldn't have felt like celebrating either if I was her. A pang of guilt crept over me like a dark cloud on my good night, because I knew exactly why Haley had shown that particular side of herself, and it was nothing Y/n had done wrong.

"JJ came between them before it got really bad, but Haley followed her out," Spencer said, sipping his cream soda, trying to stay as neutral as possible. The situation with Haley and I had been a delicate one, but ultimately our marriage had ended because she couldn't remain faithful.

"I should go to her apartment," I hadn't meant to say it out loud, but the silence that followed made me hesitant.

"Maybe let her calm down," Morgan suggested, but I was already giving Rossi the go ahead to continue the night without me and excusing myself. I still couldn't believe that Haley had physically hurt her, and it was all because of me.

The drive to her house was short, my palms sweaty and my stomach in knots. I had no clue what I was even going to say, if she even answered the door. I knocked softly, hearing the swift padding of her feet coming to the door. She didn't look happy to see me at all, and there was a scratch across the length of her fact that hadn't been there the day before.

"What are you doing here?"

"Can I not come in?"

She shut the door behind her before she joined me in the hall, her arms crossed over her chest.

"What do you want, Hotch?"

She seemed exasperated, flustered even. It had me completely thrown, because she was normally so composed.

"I heard about what happened with Haley and I wanted to explain myself."

She shook her head, trying to dismiss the conversation.

"It's fine. You don't have to say anything," she assured me, hand already on her door so she could retreat away from me.

"She hit you, Y/n. You have every right to be upset, because I'm upset too," she didn't try to hide the tears that fell from her eyes, and in that moment I felt more helpless than ever. I had unintentionally hurt the one person I'd tried to shelter from my crumbling home life.

"She blames me."

"That's because I... I had a dream about you, the night I found out about her affair. I was saying your name, and she wasn't too happy about it, so she assumed that's why I filed. She didn't know I even knew about the affair. I didn't tell her until today," I said finally, most of it coming out in a frantic jumble of words.

"She's convinced it's more than that," she muttered, leaning against the wall. She wouldn't meet my eyes, but I knew she was more upset than she was letting on.

"Maybe she's right."

✨✨✨

You weren't sure you heard him correctly until he closed the distance between the two of you so he could stand with his back to the wall next to you, his shoulders parallel with yours. He sighed heavily, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

"I know it's wrong. As soon as I knew Haley had an affair, I couldn't help it. The feelings came whether I wanted them to or not. I hope you aren't angry with me, even though you have every right to be."

You chuckled at him, your frown disappearing for the first time all afternoon.

"I don't know who should apologize here because I... I feel things for you too, Hotch. I have since my first day. I never said anything, obviously, but it hasn't been very subtle, and I'm sorry for that. If I caused problems with you and Haley, I didn't mean to."

"It wasn't you. I didn't know you felt anything towards me until now," he said after a moment, letting his arms fall to his sides. You certainly hadn't expected to see him this late, but he was here instead of celebrating, and that had to count for something.

"Do you want to come in?" It was bold of you, and you knew it, but you were curious to know what Hotch had been thinking about you in order for you to be invading his dreams.

"I thought you were going to bed?"

You rolled your eyes, opening the door and letting him follow you inside. You told him to have a seat on the couch while you excused yourself to make the two of you a cup of coffee. By the time you'd joined him, his back was turned away from you, and he was examining the walls of your home.

"You're a lot more impressive than I realized," he breathed, pointing to all of your certificates and diplomas on the wall. You had taken several independent courses, earning certificates and awards in just about everything you'd ever taken an interest in.

"I like having back up plans," you giggled, the broad array of subjects not just related to criminal justice.

"But you're great at what you do," Hotch countered, causing you to shrug. You enjoyed your job, but you weren't sure that you wanted the BAU forever, especially considering your partner had been acting weird for months.

"But eventually I want a family and something that at least resembles normal, and this isn't it," you replied, handing Hotch his mug and sipping from your own.

"You'll tell me before you decide to leave, right?"

You promised him that you weren't going anywhere anytime soon, and that eased some of his worries. You sat on the couch, hoping he would join you, and he did almost immediately, sitting down near the middle so he was close to you.

"You gonna tell me what you dreamed about?" He smirked at you from behind his mug but it was impossible to miss. He was back to his normal self for the most part; he was being more friendly with you now than he had been in months.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," his cheeks flushed with color, and it took you a minute to realize he was embarrassed, and you could easily guess why.

"Come on, Hotch. It's just me," you reminded him, and he sat back, his arm resting against your shoulders on the back of the couch. It was no different than when he'd do it on the plane, just to stretch out, but it felt different, almost as if he'd done it in an attempt just to be closer to you. Your suspicions were confirmed when his fingers started to toy with your hair, twirling it absentmindedly through his fingers. You'd never been so close to him, and with his divorce finalized, there was nothing holding him back now. You were curious if that's why his behavior had changed; he needed to keep his distance until it was actually over, or else Haley would have just used it against him.

"I had you on my desk. You told me you had a bad day and asked if I'd help," he whispered, his voice trembling slightly. You'd never heard him nervous like this, so you took his free hand in yours, letting his massive palm wrap around yours.

"Did you help me?"

"You begged me to. I couldn't tell you no," he defended, his grip on your shoulders tightening. You didn't miss the growing bulge in his sleek black slacks, causing them to tighten considerably. You were filled with questions about his filthy dream starring you, and at the most taboo place of all. You wondered how many times since then had he sat at his desk, imagining you were on top of it.

"What a gentleman," you chuckled, tossing one of your legs lazily over his lap. He reached for you instantly, hand darting out to caress your bare leg. It sent shivers all over you as he gently massaged the tender flesh of your upper thighs.

"You were impossible to resist. You just needed me so badly," he breathed, his fingers tugging your face to meet his. You were mesmerized by the golden flecks dancing in his dark eyes, increasingly aware of his lips closing the gap between yours. Once his mouth was on yours, it was feverish, his tongue pushing past your lips in a desperate attempt to finally taste you.

"I do need you," you panted, a low groan rumbling deep in his chest, vibrating your entire body. You couldn't climb into his lap fast enough, your arms snaking around his neck so you could bring him closer.

"I was hoping you'd say that," his voice had dropped to a dangerously low octave, his tone more needy now than you'd ever heard. He was searching for your approval, and he had it, every ounce of it.

"I told you, Hotch. I've always had feelings for you," your shirt came off first, his arms reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. Once he had it off, his tongue found your breast, swirling around your nipple. You let your head fall back, the fluid movements of his tongue stunning you momentarily.

"Nothing stopping us now," he shot back, dexterously working to unbutton his black dress shirt. You took over for him, running your nails across his chest. He moaned at the contact, his tongue pushed between his teeth in anticipation. He shrugged off his dress shirt, letting you explore the gorgeous, scarred flesh underneath. He was everything you'd ever wanted in another person: strong, rugged, the most determined and assertive man you'd ever met. If he wanted it, it was already his.

"We'd have more room in the bed," you told him, watching in awe as he effortlessly hoisted you up and took you in the general direction of the bedroom. You told him where your room was and then swiftly occupied your lips with his neck, his chest, any skin you could reach to kiss.

"You're sure about this?"

You nodded enthusiastically before he laid you down on the bed, bringing your shorts down your legs with him. You could feel his gaze, taking in every inch of you, his pupils blown out in lust.

"You're even more gorgeous than I imagined," his hands spread your legs apart, beckoning you to quit being shy with him. The only thing separating him from your sex was a thin pair of panties, which Hotch was already making quick work of removing. His mouth traveled slowly from your ankle to your thighs, leaving wet, hot kisses all over your sensitive skin. You let go of a breath you didn't realize you were keeping to yourself when he laid down between your legs, his shoes falling to the floor as he situated himself in front of you.

He ran a teasing finger through your slit, collecting your arousal on his digits like a trophy. You couldn't remember the last time you'd been touched so delicately. Your eyes went wide when he plopped his finger into his mouth, a satisfied hum leaving his lips.

"You taste so fucking good; I knew you would. I've thought about this for weeks, and now here you are. You're perfect," his eyes fluttered shut as he spread your lips and attached his tongue to your clit, moaning into you as your hands tightly gripped his hair. He was enjoying it just as much as you were; his hips grinding into the mattress for friction and relief as he lapped at the mess between your thighs. You were already so close, the perfect amount of pressure delivered by his tongue had you a moaning mess on the sheets. When he began to pump a finger in and out of you, you lost your senses, euphoria taking you over.

"Good girl, I knew you'd be a filthy one. Look how wet my fingers are," he held his hand up for you to admire, but only for a second. It quickly found its home between your folds, dragging upwards towards your clit at a snails pace. He rubbed gentle circles on your most sensitive spot, murmuring sweet praises the entire time. You didn't know he could be so dirty.

"Can you come for me again?" It was the sweetest question he'd ever asked you, and you were happy to oblige, your back arching off the bed as his name rolled off your tongue. A smirk ghosted on his lips before he pulled up on his knees, unbuttoning his pants. He stood long enough to get undressed, bringing you to the edge of the bed, his giant hands hooked behind your knees.

You quickly told him you were on birth control, and with a satisfied grin he slid into you, bringing your feet to rest on his shoulders. He took his time pushing into you, savoring the way you clenched around him, making his cock throb and twitch inside of you.

"You look so pretty taking my cock, sweet girl. Do you love how I feel inside of you?" You didn't have time to answer, he was pounding into you, the end squeaking against the wall as you shouted his name. His hand crept between your legs, spreading your swollen lips to toy with your clit, a whimper falling from your lips, making him groan, dipping down to capture you in a kiss. You let his tongue slip into your mouth, covering you in affection as his hips smacked against yours in a steady rhythm.

"You're mine now. Do you understand that, sweetheart?" His chestnut eyes bored into yours as he awaited your answer, your climax growing closer with each passing second.

"All yours, Aaron. I swear it," you let go, letting him coax you through your orgasm with his precious words of endearment, a blush rising to your cheeks at how smitten he seemed to be.

"I can't wait to show you off, I'll take you anywhere you want to go. Now that you're with me, if you want it, it's yours."

You knew his loyalty ran deeper than anyone you'd ever been with, and his promises to you filled you with butterflies and adoration for the man you'd secretly been crazy about for a year. The heatwave of pleasure he sent through you buzzed like electricity throughout your entire body, his moans rattling you feel in your core. You had pined to be the one to bring him to the edge, and it was happening before your eyes, thick ribbons of cum spurting into you with a whimper of your name. He let out a shaky breath as he rubbed your calves, gently laying your legs out after being stretched for so long. He leaned down and pressed a loving kiss to your forehead before asking you where to find a towel and telling you to stay put.

You let him wipe you off, and he joined you in the bed, pulling you into his arms to cradle you against his body.

"I'm glad I'm finally here with you. It almost doesn't seem real," you kissed his neck, making your way to his lips. His arms held you securely against him, the two of you leaned into the mound of pillows on your bed.

"I'm glad you showed up for me. Thank you for coming to check on me. I know you were out with the team—"

"I really just wanted to see you. Can I stay with you tonight? I've got my go bag in the car," his voice was sleepy, and you were exhausted too, and you'd never tell him no to staying now that he was yours.

"I was hoping you'd stay. Come here, let's get some sleep," he laid on your shoulder, tossing his arm over you and pulling you in tight. You set your alarm and drifted off in the arms of the man you'd been dreaming about for such a long time.

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