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tunastime · 1 month

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A Gear of the Heart, Starting

just a little something I wrote for somebody's (@shepscapades) birthday back in November :3 after I asked what etho and bdubs would've been like shortly after etho's deviation. this is the few times before last life where bdubs realizes etho might be a good friend, and how their relationship changes. comes right before A Gear of the Heart, Turning! (4653 words)

Etho remembers quite a bit.

He remembers the ricochet of the explosion through his left side. He remembers a dozen errors across his vision, showing every unit damaged by the blast, the fractals of fracturing snaking up his arm, the shattered remains of his central programming lingering like a livewire.

Over and over he can remember the pitch of Bdubs’ voice and had to wonder his own diagnosis at that moment. Bdubs watching his android die in his name—he remembers that, too. Bdubs didn’t even ask for that. It was something Etho gave to him. He’s not sure he could even say why, either.

It remained a bitter flavor he couldn't identify, even as Xisuma assured him he was okay. Something had happened then, sitting on that floor, thirium in hand. Some movement in his chest he couldn’t place. It wasn’t anything physical, but it felt like some gear of his nonexistent heart had started, turned—rotated. And all he could do was ask himself why. What’s he supposed to do with that?

He doesn’t know. Fine.

Etho goes back to work at someone’s request. Not even his own request, either, so he has to wonder if maybe Doc put him up to it. Him being Bdubs. Him being Bdubs who shifted back and forth on his feet at Etho’s door—a facade of a base in the process of being designed. If one could even call it a base, yet.

And even though he was increasingly certain that Bdubs had been told to ask—and Etho asked him if he’d been asked to help, and he was adamant about asking by himself, that’s what he said. He said: “You think I gotta be told to ask people for help? I can’t just be doin’ things on my own?” and it had felt so much like doublespeak that Etho didn’t even fight to differentiate his tone.

But Bdubs had asked if he wanted to help with the horse course. Terraforming—it should be right up his alley, if he’s still into that kind of stuff. Figured he was the expert—or so it goes. Etho had nodded. He wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to do. He supposes he could have easily said no.

But every part of him yearned to say yes.

So he did.

The dust sifts through his fingers.

Etho perches in the grass, partially hunched as he leans over his line of redstone, shrouded by the hill half-built around him. He’d spent most of the week prior carving out the lines of the track, setting posts for buildings, laying out blueprints for Bdubs to finalize. Today, he lays his line meticulously, dust shifting in his hands. They still shake a bit—nothing a human would notice, nothing that disrupted the flow of his lines, but the overworked gears still shifted in protest as he worked. He could see the faded overlay of the project in his vision if he focused. It crackled, slightly blue-yellow, orange glowing indicators where action was needed, where there were mistakes to be corrected.

It isn’t his redstone to fix. The lines under his hands were—freshly laid by his near-expert technique—but the deeper lines, noteblock announcements, droppers, doorgates, the flourish of the house course, weren’t. Etho smooths out the line he was standing near with his thumb.

There was nothing wrong with the laid redstone, really. It’s just. Well. It’s not even. It takes up so much space. It lacks the efficiency and tidiness he practiced to a precision. It radiated Bdubs in an overpowering way, one that might turn a gear of the heart—one he didn’t have, of course. Etho’s lines are neat, rigid, conforming to his perfect mental map.

He lets down his section of dust, drifting over to the dispenser system. He pushes a line further into place, brushing dust back from the side. Further on, where the line crosses, he readjusts it, he smooths them from start to end of line. His hands work where his mind recalculates, looking for errors along the redstone already laid out by Bdubs. Programs bubble up to assist; he dismisses a message, and another as he works. The line straightens from source to sink.

As he passes, searching for another correction, he hears someone above him. In the corner of his vision, another message notification pings: from Bdubs.

They’re all from Bdubs, actually, now that he notices in full. He blinks, mouth twisting into a frown. Whoops.

He hears someone—Bdubs, he realizes, as he notes the fall of his feet, and the sigh he hops down from his horse, the shuffle of said horse, hooves on grass—clear their throat. Bdubs shuffles around as Etho moves back over to his finished redstone, dusting his hands on the sides of his pants. He lifts the small bag of dust, twisting the tie shut around his fingers as he travels back up the line to recheck the connections.

“Etho?” Bdubs calls. Etho straightens, just on instinct alone, glancing up at the stretch of sky he can see. It’s bright blue, barely dotted with clouds, and the grass looks warm with sun. He fixes where the dust starts as he sections off the end, tossing the rest of the redstone over to his sling bag.

“Under the hill!”

Bdubs leans over the edge, tilting his head at Etho as he peers into the dark. It takes him a moment to find Etho’s face, partially obscured by black fabric and the fluff of wool around his collar. Etho tilts his head, raising his eyebrows.

“Did you need something?” he asks, arm hanging loosely by his side. Bdubs frowns, too, watching Etho’s expression. As his eyes seem to adjust to the dark, his gaze falls on the lines of redstone. He pauses there for a long moment. In that moment, Etho feels something in his chest grind, almost to a noticeable ache. If he could pull in a breath to settle it, he might have, but the sensation and minute sound passes as soon as he moves his hand to press flat against his regulator. Bdubs is gone when he looks up, reappearing only as he drops into the cavern, catching himself on the wall. He readjusts his cloak around his shoulders, shuffling into the low-light.

“Etho,” he says, still frowning. Etho looks him over. He watches Bdubs set his hands on his hips, but his heart rate stays even and his temperature level. The only thing that changes is the tone of his voice, fluctuating with a pattern Etho recognizes as forcing something. Bdubs takes a long breath in and lets it out. Etho’s eyes find the twitch of his fingers as he folds his arms, rather than the sharp curve of his mouth.

“Yes?” Etho asks. He feels his pump work a little harder. It kind of hurts still, whatever’s stopped working in his chest. He flicks his eyes, recalling a diagnostic, setting it to run in the background as he closes out of the overlays and the world returns to yellowish-grey. Bdubs is still frowning.

“You mind tellin’ me what’s wrong with this redstone?”

Etho blinks. The diagnostic comes up clear.

“What do you mean?” he says, his expression shifting into something copying amusement. He’s trying. He’s at least trying to mimic the emotions he sees. Soon enough it’ll feel natural, he’s certain. “What’s wrong with it?”

Bdubs snorts, which turns into a laugh, which turns into Etho smiling a bit wider, a bit more confusion lingering in his expression as he leans around Bdubs to check his meticulously placed line. Bdubs turns away from him, facing the system, the clock that linked the start gates to the timer below.

“What’s—” Bdubs scoffs, shaking his head. “What’s wrong with it? Etho—” he holds out his hand, waving Etho over. Etho lingers at his shoulder as he steps forward, peering over the curve of it and the moss and small leaves and flowers draped over his neck. “It’s too perfect.”

Etho makes a sound like a scoff now, a caught sound in his vocal unit, a stuttering start to his sentence that doesn’t form right away. He’s trying for surprise, the pitch of his voice rising unexpectedly.

“It’s too perfect?” he asks.

Bdubs nods. After a moment, Etho thinks he sees his expression shift, the high of his cheek rising. When Bdubs turns his head to look at him, just for a second, Bdubs is smiling.

“Bdubs,” Etho says, sighing, turning away from him, to his bag on the far side of the room. He shakes his head. That something-nothing in his chest flutters and fades and disappears all at once, instead replaced with the urge to smile back. Bdubs laughs, and Etho can imagine him tipping his head back, mouth curved up as he giggles to himself. Etho shakes his head. As he starts to pull away from Bdubs, he feels him catch his sleeve, holding fast to his elbow.

“Etho, wait—” Bdubs giggles. “It looks really good.”

Etho raises his eyebrows. Caught in Bdubs grasp, all he can do is look at him, head tilted, trying not to let the amusement show on his face. Bdubs giggles, face breaking again as he does.

“Etho…” he tries again, fighting back a smile. Etho tilts his head the other way, as if to prompt him further, looking for anything. He stays silent. Bdubs hand lowers slowly, that smile faltering just a fraction. Maybe he thinks Etho’s upset with him. There’s a flicker of recognition in his eyes. “You gonna say anythin’? Or you just gonna stand there?”

Etho smiles, finally. He shrugs a little, glancing over at the fixed lines of redstone.

“I fixed your redstone,” he says cooly, sticking his free hand in his pocket. Bdubs blinks. He jerks away as Etho’s smile grows, shoving him hard in his shoulder. Etho wobbles for a moment, smiling to himself, scrunching up his face as Bdubs’ expression morphs. He does laugh, after a beat, poking Etho in the shoulder as he does. Etho hopes he can see the smile in his eyes. He saves, logs, keeps this moment. He’s sure in the low light that his LED spins yellow for a moment. It feels right. If there’s any feeling to catalog.

Bdubs huffs. Etho thinks he hears him say something under his breath. It sounds a lot like thank you.

It’s out of habit, rather than obligation, that Etho finds himself back at the horse course. Of course he ends up here, his feet moving him about as if his brain-not-brain had no thoughts of its own. Man. Some days, it really felt human.

He wanders across the plain, eyes lingering on fully-built buildings, knowing the schematics and plans, watching as those plans-now-buildings stretched higher above his head, where they nearly threatened to pop the sky wide open.

Bdubs had sat down with him earlier that week, papers spread out between them. He’d stopped by, actually—worked his way up the mountain to the base Etho had finally finished, papers in hand, looking like he was on the verge of collapse. He’d dropped the blueprints on the largest table Etho had managed to clear, spreading out the designs for huge, complex buildings. Etho watched him explain, listened for the inflection of when to offer suggestions, heard the way Bdubs’ voice grew quieter, almost conspiratorial, as he explained his palette. There was something methodical in the way Bdubs spoke, not only in the approach to his colors, but to his style. As much as it seemed eclectic and strange, he watched the pieces fall together as Bdubs spoke of his gradients. There was something deeper there, a precision that Etho, all of a sudden, in that room, craved to emulate. To write to disk. To save. To do more than just copy.

He’d built the horse stable first—all to his own specifications. It was Bdubs later who came in to detail, tilling up the dirt around to plant grass and flowers, sectioning off parts of the empty stable. It was almost difficult to compartmentalize that Bdubs was finished with it now. That they’d worked each line of the redstone and Etho had supervised the first steps of building, and now he could look up and see the very top, or almost, if he were to strain, of the spikes above the buildings.

And in just a few weeks, Bdubs was onto another project. Etho smiles to himself. He can’t help it. There was something rather comforting about that. Something about Bdubs dragging him along to help, pointing him toward the thing he was good at, and asking for help. Bdubs showing up at his door with plans. Bdubs cracking jokes with him, and looking for a laugh Etho couldn’t replicate yet. It’s like something clicked. Or was just on the breach of it. And Etho liked it.

Etho clears his field of view, taking in, instead, the stretch of sky where it met the ocean, along the line of hills and grass and flowers, and further still, to the smudge that looked like Bdubs. He blends in too well—the green of his coat barely noticeable against the field of grass that splayed out from the side of his build. There were still materials strewn about—chests half opened, shulkers stacked waist high.

Bdubs stands to the side of a dark grey and white horse, one hand placed on its nose, the other digging through his bag. Etho watches for a moment. Bdubs fishes around for that entire second that he lingers, searching for something, until he pulls out an apple. Another falls to the ground, rolling away from him. He holds out the fruit for the horse as Etho clears his throat.

“Hiya, Bdubs—” he says as Bdubs startles, twisting around to see him. He huffs, an immediate frown coming to his face. Bdubs turns to fetch the dropped apple, holding it high above his head as the grey horse nudges its nose into his empty hand. He pats it instead.

“Etho,” he says, tone thin. He sighs, shaking his head. “Scared the life outta me, you know that? You gotta make some noise when you’re walkin’ around.”

Etho smiles, a nice and easy reaction to the annoyance in Bdubs’ voice. It’s getting easier. At least a bit. The smiling part, that is. The inflection that comes with being happy.

“I’ll try next time,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. His hands find his pockets as he looks around, eyes following the path around the buildings. He’s sure the pollen and moss will be stuck to his clothes for days before he gets them out.

“Mm,” Bdubs hums, unconvinced. “I’m sure you will. Now, what’re you doin’ here? You don’t have anything better to do?”

“That’s a good question,” Etho says.

Bdubs turns back to him for a second, just a glance over his shoulder as he cocks his head to the side. He raises his eyebrows before he turns back to the horse, who’s started to nose at his bag. He drags his hand down its nose.

“You’re tellin’ me you don’t have an objective right now?”

“I never have an objective, Bdubs.”

Bdubs snorts again . Etho steps over, slow, minding the horse. It sniffs as Etho holds out his hand, nosing his gloved palm. He pats the horse's nose, somewhat stilted, smoothing over the soft bridge of his nose.

“Right,” Bdubs hums. When Etho glances over to him, Bdubs glances away, as if he’d lingered as Etho stepped over. He’s not moved from Etho’s side, which. Makes something fit into Etho’s chest in a way he isn’t expecting. He rests his hand on the horse's head, looking over at Bdubs in full.

“I can’t come see how the horse course is looking, now that you’re done?” he asks. Bdubs makes an embarrassed sounding noise, watching the rise of the buildings to their left. The horse sniffs, and Etho lifts his hand away, letting it fall to his side.

“I—I got excited about it,” Bdubs mutters. If Etho leans enough, he can see the beginnings of a flush creep over his cheeks, up the shell of his ear. Something about that, too. Etho looks beyond him, though, studying the rise of the buildings as Bdubs does. He nods to himself.

“I can tell,” he says, amusement slipping into his voice, almost naturally. Immediately, Bdubs whips around again, face twisted in offense.

“Hey!” he snaps. “You makin’ fun of me?”

Etho shakes his head, spreading his hands out in front of him as he does.

“No, no. Not at all,” he says, hoping the smile he’s giving is reaching his eyes. “I’m saying we make a pretty good team.”

Bdubs makes a little huff of a sound, but his posture and expression softens. Etho studies it from the moment it appears, trying to place the emotion behind it. He seems upset—but not from anything Etho said. He almost looks guilty.

“We’ve always made a good team,” Bdubs mumbles. Etho blinks.

“Since when have we been a team?”

“Since—s…” Bdubs blurts, then backtracks, folding his arms over his chest. “Well we’re a team now!”

Etho raises his eyebrows, stepping away from the horse and more around Bdubs’ side. He leans in a bit as he stands by his side, bumping their shoulders together. Bdubs doesn’t recoil. Instead, he pushes back, just for a moment, and they jostle. Bdubs hums, sighing through his nose.

“Are we?” Etho asks. Bdubs nods, short and firm.

“Mhm! ‘Cause I said so.”

Etho nods with him. There’s that thing again, a turning, jostling, in some part of his chest that really shouldn’t turn or jostle. He can feel his temperature tick up just a few degrees, a fan kicking on to settle the temperature, thirium sludging warm to cold through his limbs. A team, huh? He couldn’t beat Bdubs’ conviction, that’s for sure. Maybe it was a bit of guilt, then. Maybe something in Bdubs had realized Etho was much more of a help than a hindrance. Maybe Bdubs wanted a friend. Maybe he just felt bad and the feeling bad got to a point where he had to just do something about it. Etho didn’t know. He didn’t live inside Bdubs’ brain. And picking at Bdubs’ every emotion was a task enough to drive his processor into the ground. He could already feel another spike in temperature, LED glowing yellow-blue. Maybe it wasn’t all bad. Etho sticks his hands in his pockets.

“I’d like that,” he says, finally pushing out the words as his programming jumps into gear, “What’s our next project then?”

Bdubs goes back to jostling him before he turns away, moving from Etho’s side to collect his horse. Gathering the horse's reins in his hands, Bdubs pauses.

“Ooh…” he says, frowning a little. Etho watches the little furrow of his eyebrows—thinking. Bdubs is turning the idea over in his head. Bdubs steps back over with the horse in tow, already walking in the direction of the horse stable. Etho jolts forward, taking several big steps to match Bdubs’ pace. “Well why don’t you come back to the clock and we can talk about it, huh?”

“That sounds nice.”

Bdubs makes an affirmative sound, leading the horse around and into the stable. Etho watches him unlatch the gate, ushering the horse into the pen.

“I can put the kettle on and everything,” Bdubs says. He lifts the bridle out of the horse’s mouth, running his hand along the length of the horse’s nose. Etho doesn’t mean to watch him as he does, but the action is so purposeful. There’s a moment where Bdubs’ expression is unreadable—unreadable as in Etho simply can’t place anything on it. Unreadable in the amount it changes—something softer than he’s seen, something far away. Bdubs’ whole demeanor seems to shift as he stands still for a moment. Etho isn’t sure what to do with himself. He’s just standing in straw and dirt and stones, all of which he can feel under his shoes. He shuffles a bit, back and forth, to make his presence known, before he says:

“You know I can’t drink anything, Bdubs.”

And Bdubs rolls his eyes, squinting over at him, stepping away from the horse to hop the gate.

“Well you can at least fake it,” he grumbles. He folds his arms again, wrinkling his nose at Bdubs as Bdubs leads him out of the pen and into the open field around the horse course. The shadow of the buildings above them hasn’t changed, yet. The sun is still high and warm in the sky.

Etho laughs. At least, he makes a sound that he thinks passes as a laugh. Bdubs laughs too, though, so it must sound pretty convincing. He nods, the smile on his face feeling much more natural than he ever could have expected.

“I could fake it,” he laughs. “Sure.”

Bdubs grins at him. It’s nice. It makes the walk back to his base a little more bearable.

By the time Etho gets his invitation to the life game, he’s grown accustomed to being at Bdubs’ side again. He wanders around Bdubs’ base like he knows it, makes it a spot he chooses to map, to memorize. Bdubs checks in on him when he isn’t around as much—asks him how his builds are going, wonders if he needs help. Bdubs lingers in his spaces too, like a plant trying to root, gives himself reasons to stand in doorways just a bit longer, just enough to extend their goodbyes. It feels right—in a way that almost gives reason to Etho’s deviation. Maybe, deep down, from their first introduction, Etho had decided to glue himself to Bdubs’ side and not become unstuck. Maybe he’d simply put that decision, his first ever decision, into motion that day. It didn’t matter much as to why anymore.

When Etho gets his letter, he doesn’t open it. He holds it between two fingers, turning it over and over. He doesn’t need to read it to know what it says. There’s a dark red seal on the back, shaped like a heart. He makes a little sound, some sort of click in the back of his mouth, before he stuffs the letter in his pocket, half-folded.

He finds Bdubs exactly where he expects. Bdubs is sitting cross-legged in his garden, hands in the dirt, when Etho arrives at the crescent moon base. If he looks closely enough, Etho can still tell that Bdubs’ own letter sits on his window sill in the kitchen, unopened. But he’s really squinting to notice, so he writes it off for now as a flaw in his own sight.

Bdubs turns to him as he walks up. His hair is pushed back away from his face with his bandana, and his hands are covered in dirt, and he’s got a streak of black soil across his forehead that Etho tries not to look at for too long. Bdubs shoots him a toothy grin, going back to his bright orange tulips. If Etho looks long enough, he could probably guess the soil mixture, and tell him if it's good enough to be planting orange tulips in, but he doesn’t. Instead, he comes to stand behind him and Bdubs hums in greeting.

“Etho,” he says, looking up again, wiping the dirt from his forehead. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh, nothin’,” Etho says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He forgets who he picked the gesture up from, but it’s become part of his natural body language patterns now, so he won’t be stopping it anytime soon. “I just came to see how you were doing.”

“How I was doin’, huh?” Bdubs asks, amusement trickling into his voice. Etho smiles, feeling his face pull.

“Mhm,” he says. “That’s right. I can’t come and check up on a friend?”

Bdubs laughs, sticking his spade in the dirt.

“Oh, we’re friends now?” he says, still giggling as he turns around. “I thought we were just a team.”

Etho watches him lean back on his hands, legs coming out from under him. He tries to read Bdubs’ expression and voice for any note of insincerity, or play, or teasing, but doesn’t find anything he normally associates with Bdubs. This just feels true.

“I mean, I figured with how much we’ve been working together…” Etho starts, to which Bdubs startles, waving his hands.

“No, no!” Bdubs yelps. “Etho, I thought the same thing! I just wasn’t expectin’ it from you.”

Etho blinks. It feels owlish, small, almost a wrong reaction to hearing Bdubs say something like that. But it’s what immediately happens, before he tries to open his mouth, and no sound comes out. He waits for a moment. He assumes his LED spins, maybe even red, as Bdubs watches him, face paling.

“Oh,” Etho says quietly.

“We’re friends,” Bdubs says, voice much smaller than Etho’s ever heard it. “‘S that alright with you?”

Etho feels like the proper response would be to laugh, if he could really feel anything at all besides every gear in his chest halting and restarting themselves. He makes a noise that sounds almost like a cough.

“Mhm,” he says. He watches Bdubs’ shoulders relax and finds that his own posture sinks with it.

“Good,” Bdubs says, nodding along. “Was there anything else you wanted to scare me with?”

Etho knows this tone—playful. Teasing. He works up a smile and fishes the letter from his pocket, slightly bent. Bdubs’ eyes flick right to it, right to the red seal pressed into the paper. Immediately, he scrambles up, reaching for the note in Etho’s hands. Etho lets him grab it in his dirt-covered fingers, even as Bdubs tries frantically to dust off his hands as he notices. Bdubs turns it over itself, glancing up at Etho.

“It’s for you?”

Etho nods.

“It was on my doorstep this morning,” he says. “I can see you’ve got one in your window?”

Bdubs snorts, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I haven’t opened the damn thing. I’m excited up until the point I’m not, ‘cause I know I’m gonna lose again.”

Etho hums. As Bdubs hands him back the letter, Etho rests his hand on his shoulder, giving it a hesitant, light squeeze. Bdubs looks quickly down at it, before he’s back to staring at Etho’s face.

“Don’t worry, Bdubs,” he says, hoping his voice is full of amusement and affection like he feels like it is. “You’ll have me there this time!”

And Bdubs laughs, full and warm in his chest, and Etho jostles him around as he does, until Bdubs is smacking his shoulder and wiggling free. He picks up his fallen hat and his tools, and Etho follows him around the side of the house as he puts things away. As he shuts one of the chest, Bdubs says:

“You mean that, though? You wanna be on a team?”

Etho smiles, feeling his eyes squint, forces every ounce of new feeling into his words when he says:

“I don’t think I wanna team with anyone else, Bdubs.”

And Bdubs’ grin in excitement is more than enough to convince him he’s made the right choice.

It’ll be a long two weeks until the death game starts. When he returns home later that night, Bdubs’ plans for success turning over in his brain, recording for later, Etho reads over the letter enough to commit the page to memory. He keeps it safe internally as the letter finds its way to his bookshelf, half-sealed. Through him, like it’s just under the skin, runs an emotion he’s not yet familiar with. He hopes it's a good one, at the very least. He hopes so, as much as an android, a machine, someone just now familiar with the idea of free will, can hope.

It feels good, though. And something makes him think that everything will turn out just fine.

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rascal-xo · 9 months

Note

Hear me out, Ghost x Reader fic based on this scene from maze runner. Maybe they’re married, maybe they’re enemies to lovers, maybe he said something hurtful before the mission and never gets to say he loves them hehehehehhe

https://youtu.be/JSkuyJ2eiF0

The Lost Soul - Simon Riley x Female Reader

Summary: In the midst of a highly dangerous mission things take a turn for the worst causing you to make the hardest decision you’ve ever had to make…

Warnings: DEATH, angst, language, injuries.

Tags: @pukbadger @fiveshelmet @myguiltypleasures21 @madamemelaninn @emmaadlerrichtofen1 @swissy23 @thatchickwiththecamera @glitterypirateduck @glitteryeggalmondherring @allaboutirem0 @kittyoonsstuff

A/N: Thank you for requesting! I hope I was able to write this how you imagined!

The flames roared, consuming everything in their path as You and Ghost raced through the crumbling halls of the enemy headquarters. The mission had been successful; you had the crucial intel you came for, but now, survival was your top priority. You both were in coffin corner as the deafening explosions echoed around you, creating a chaotic symphony of destruction

"Keep moving! We need to get to the balcony bridge!" Ghost shouted, his voice barely audible over the roaring flames.

You nodded, pushing your tired legs to move faster, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. Each step felt like an eternity as you navigated through the maze-like structure. The smoke was thick, making it hard to breathe, but you couldn't afford to slow down.

You and Ghost had never been close, constantly clashing over your approaches to missions and your conflicting personalities.

The tension between the two of you was palpable, stemming from a long history of disagreements and differing approaches. You were fierce, driven by impulsiveness and instinct, while Ghost was more, a quiet man of lethal precision.

As Ghost reached the end of the bridge, he turned around, noticing your hesitation. The evac would be there in less than 2 minutes. "Come on, we don't have time!" he urged, his voice desperate.

But you shook your head, steeling yourself for what you had to do. You knew there wasn't a chance that both of you would come out this mission alive. Deep down, you knew Simon would chose you over himself, but you wouldn't let him.

"Go, Ghost. I'll cover you," you said, your voice steady despite the emotions raging inside you. The enemy airborne unit would be in shortly and there was very little chance that you could survive, but that was a chance you were willing to take.

Ghost's eyes widened with realization, and he took a step back toward you. "No, Y/n! Have you gone mad?! We both can make it out of here!" he insisted, his voice tinged with panic.

You mustered a small smile, pushing back the tears that threatened to spill. Blood stained your clothes where the gear didn't cover, and your ribs ached. "Simon." your voice coming out in low pieces, your heart breaking at the thought.

"Don't be stupid, Y/N." he pleaded, reaching out as if he could physically stop you.

You shook your head again, gently pushing his hand away. You reached into your vest pocket taking out the large drive. He watched with his eyes pining back and forth from your hands to your face.

"Take this. You have to finish this, Simon." you said firmly, pressing the drive into his hand.

"Your getting on this Evac with me, Sergeant." he protested sternly.

“Please.” You stammered over your own breaking voice.

You got closer to him and placed your hands on both sides of his masked face, your eyes locking with his. "We haven't always been good to each other" you said with a soft laugh feeling the tears fall down your cheeks. "And if I had to do this all over again, I’d chose you every time.”

Tears welled up in Ghost's eyes as he looked down at the drive in his hand, then back at you. With both hands still on his face, you searched his expression frantically, the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

As the flames roared around you two, a dreaded sound cut through the chaos—the distant thumping of helicopter blades. The evac helicopter had arrived, hovering just above the balcony bridge where you and Ghost stood. The countdown to escape had begun, and time was running out.

Ghost turned to look at the helicopter, then back at you, his eyes filled with desperation and adrenaline.

There was only enough space for one of you on the helicopter, and you had already made your decision. You had to make sure Ghost got on that helicopter alive.

Ghost stepped closer, his hands gently cradling yours. “I can’t lose you too,” he spoke, his voice breaking. You looked at him, your heart aching at the thought of saying goodbye.

With a trembling hand still on yours, he lifted the balaclava on his face, his eyes never leaving yours.

As Ghost lifted the balaclava, his face came into full view, and you found yourself captivated by his intense gaze. In that moment, all the barriers between you seemed to fade away, leaving only raw emotion and unspoken feelings.

His eyes were filled with sorrow, love, and an overwhelming sense of gratitude for everything you had done. The chaos around you seemed to quiet for a moment as you locked eyes, sharing a connection that went beyond words.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still as you both leaned in, your lips meeting in a tender, heartfelt kiss. It was a bittersweet farewell, a final moment of connection before you parted ways.

As you pulled away, you could see the love and pain in Simon’s gaze.

Then as the airborne unit came close, without another word, you turned and ran in the opposite direction, away from the balcony bridge, away from the evac.

Behind you, you heard Ghost’s voice, but you couldn’t look back. You knew that this was the only way to ensure he made it out alive.

Ghost made it to the evac helicopter just in time, watching in anguish as the building suddenly collapsed, taking you with it.

A/N: Sorry to break your heart this way. I can do a part 2 if you like :)

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #fanfic #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #ghost x female reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #cod mw2 #mwii #mw2 #modern warfare 2

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queermentaldisaster · 5 days

Text

"Shoulda Been Dead A Long Time Ago"

Chapter two is finally here! This chapter was a mess to figure out, but I just went with the way I did "The Hunt Is My Muse".

No chapter warnings!

The Reactor

“One minute!” the jumpmaster called, as Simon watched Soap and Gaz push the crate into position, his eyes hidden by the mask made out of his companion. His eyes were locked on Soap's biceps and the way they strained, the way the light glistened off the sweat.

“Tight!” Soap called out, and Simon snapped back to reality, focusing back on the task at hand. Don’t get distracted now Simon, Ghost gently reminded him. ‘Oh, yeah, like you weren’t staring either.’ Simon responded, and Ghost went silent.

“Crate’s all good to go,” Gaz said, patting the top of it.

“That’s our gear on the ground if we need it,” Simon reminded them, readjusting his hold on his gun, Ghost’s thin tendrils wrapping around it to keep it in place.

“We will.” Price muttered, as the jumpmaster hit the button to open the ramp. The alarm sounded and the ramp opened, as Price looked back at the others. “Pull altitude is 2000 AGL!” He called out.

“Cuttin’ it close!” Soap called back, grinning over at Simon, who grinned back under the mask as Gaz lightly punched Soap in the arm, grinning.

“That’s how we do.” Gaz said, and Simon straightened his back, pulling his shoulders back a little.

“Roger up at the rally point,” he said, and Gaz responded with a simple “check!” as Soap gave him a fist bump. The crate flew out, and they jumped out shortly after, each of them deploying their parachutes at the right moment.

“Watcher-1 to Bravo,” Laswell’s voice crackled over the radio. “ISR is overhead. Be advised, Konni has three helos on the ground. Locations marked with orange smoke.” Ghost snarled in Simon’s head. Monsters, every last one of them. Simon made a vague sound of agreement. ‘Terrorism is a nasty business. Just one of the worst aspects of humanity.’ He responded, before responding to Laswell verbally. “Extract points for the nuclear material.” He muttered.

Soap jumped in with a snort. “Aye Lt, tha’ much was obvious, ye daft numpty.” That caused Ghost to purr happily, and Simon’s heart swelled slightly, before Laswell cut back in, clearly annoyed.

“Affirmative,” she said, and Ghost snickered. “Those helos are your primary targets. Destroy them and we can keep this threat contained.” Simon let out a grunt of affirmation, as he spoke. “Roger. Moving to overwatch.”

As he landed, Ghost spoke up. Do we need to be stuck on overwatch? they asked, before its voice took on a whiny tone. I’m hungry, Simon. Simon sighed, turning off his side of comms. “Once we get the helos taken care of, then we’ll make sure to take a few of these bastards out.” He promised.

Alright, Ghost muttered, but I don’t have a good feeling about this place, Simon. Watch our back. Simon nodded. “Always.” Then he turned his side of comms back on, only to hear Price’s voice.

“-Ghost, you picking up radiation spikes?” Simon held up the little device, much to Ghost’s chagrin, and checked. “Negative. All the helos scan clear. Should be safe to use explosives on em.” His symbiotic companion scoffed. I could’ve told them that, he said, putting emphasis on ‘I’. Simon chuckled.

“Copy,” Price responded, before informing them that he’d found an armaments cache. Laswell responded, then Soap chimed in. “We’re at our primary set points.”

“Konni in sight,” Gaz responded in a whisper. “Working to secure perimeter.”

“Work quietly until the captain kicks things off,” Simon ordered, getting down on the ground and setting up his sniper rifle.

“No promises, Lt.” Soap’s voice came over the radio, and Simon rolled his eyes. “That’s an order, sergeant.” He responded, and hints of Ghost slipped into his voice. “Be careful.”

“Aye, Lt, ye got it.” They could hear Soap’s cocky grin from here. “Ah’m nae gonna make a peep, ye have mah word.” Simon smiled fondly, letting out a slightly bitter laugh. “Well you’re already failing, sergeant.”

Soap’s voice took on a more sensual tone. “Aye, well…maybe ye could…shut me up?” Simon let out a soft sigh at that, but let Ghost creep back into his voice. “Maybe later, sergeant. For now, keep your head in the game before I make you lose it.”

Soap went dead silent after that, and they let satisfaction swirl in their stomach, knowing they'd likely flustered him.

Gaz cleared his throat, speaking up. “All stations, we're seeing Konni patrols on the outer perimeter. They're searching the area.” Simon’s eyes narrowed. Both him and Ghost had a bad feeling about this…

•✧-----------------------------------✧•

Soon enough, that feeling turned out to be proven right, as Price yelled out on the comms. “This is Six! Reactor’s sealed, I’m trapped inside!” Simon cursed, taking out a couple of Konni soldiers who’d surrounded him, rushing for the reactor as the others yelled at each other through the comms. Ghost quickly enveloped him, their only thought to get to the Captain. Ghost ripped off a couple heads, as they quickly made their way to the reactor.

“Konni wasn’t after nuclear material…” They vaguely heard Gaz say, and had just enough sense to respond in Simon’s voice. “Never were.”

Soap’s voice crackled over the comms, breaking them out of their panic. “Chems were stashed ‘ere.” Ghost retreated back into Simon’s clothes, as Simon began running up the stairs to the reactor, joining Gaz and Soap. They took out more Konni soldiers, and Simon watched as Soap slammed his gun into one of their heads, and threw them off. They got to the top just as Price spoke again.

“There's no cover up here! Gas is closing, Bravo, what's your status?”

“We’re up top!” Gaz said, dropping a rope down.

“Grab the fuckin rope!” Simon yelled. From there, it was a blur for both of them. They remembered a disfigured Konni soldier trying to pull Price back down, they remembered watching Price pass out and Gaz call Laswell for medevac. They were running on pure survival instinct, and nothing else.

They remembered the moment that Price started breathing again, they remembered the relief all of them felt. But most of all, Simon remembered seeing Soap looking guilty, as if he should’ve been the one in the reactor instead of Price. Simon remembered how Ghost had wanted to curl around Soap and shield him from the pain and guilt.

•✧-----------------------------------✧•

Simon watched as Price came to. Soap nodded, giving Price a smirk. “Mornin’, sir.” Gaz handed Price a headset, and Price nodded, putting it on.

“Take it easy, Cap. You beat the gas, but you still need some time to recover.”

“I’m fine.”

“Got a headache? Nausea?”

“Always.”

Gaz nodded, turning to Soap and Simon. “He’s good.”

Soap nodded, crossing his arms. “Was worried your face was gonna melt off like those other poor bastards.” Simon chuckled, looking at Soap. “If ya ask me, it’d be an improvement.”

Price chuckled, before his face turned serious. “Konni got away with the chemicals?”

Simon nodded. “Affirmative.”

Price let out a curse. “Makarov’s been out of prison for six hours, and he’s already ahead of us.” Simon looked to the side. Those assholes! They almost killed our captain! Ghost mentally yelled. “The fuck is in that gas?” Soap demanded, looking at Gaz. “Remnants of Barkov’s program.” He explained.

“Sarin?” Soap asked. Simon nodded again. “Highly concentrated…and far more lethal.”

Gaz let out an annoyed breath. “One pod contaminated the whole area.” He said, which caused Soap to curse. “They made off with enough to kill a whole country.”

Price spoke up. “Right now, it’s in Farah’s backyard. We have to warn her.” All three of them nodded, and went silent.

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 11 months

Note

So in ancient Irish mythology there was a warrior named cu chulainn who was the son of the God of Light and spoken oaths,

Born under the name setanta, He was bound by prophesy to live a glorious but short life,

He got the name cu chulainn after killing a ferocious. Possibly demonic or deific guard dog and swearing to its owner to take the dogs place.

He was trained by a warrior woman named scathatch to use a 7 barbed spear called gaebolg which, when launched with his foot. Would spread its barbs through the dangers body and gore them from the inside out.and in battle often lost himself to bloodlust so strong he would turn inside out into a giant monster of rage an sinew.

In his personal life , despite being married he was a tremendous womanizer. Even if his heart belonged to his wife he seemed quite liberal with sharing the love

And he died shortly after killing his best friend in battle, though the reason depends on the telling of the story, in the most famous version though, after grieving the loss of his best friend he was fed the flesh of dogs. Which weakened him physically and spiritually. Allowing him to be killed by a spear to the gut.though not before tying himself to a large stone by his guts so he could die standing like a warrior

Theres a lot more to his story, obviously but I wanna know how this guy would do fighting for the humans in ragnarok, with goll as his partner.

-In Valhalla, there were many who regarded you as a hero, one who fought bravely and valiantly.

-However, you didn’t feel like a hero, you had killed your best friend and allowed yourself to be killed; despite dying like a man, tying your own intestines to a rock so you could die standing, you didn’t feel like one.

-You spent years lamenting your fate, you didn’t deserve to be in Valhalla, you didn’t train with others, choosing instead to live life as a hermit.

-It was then, when your friend, whom you didn’t realize was also here in Valhalla, sought you out and delivered a major ass kicking to get your rear in gear!

-He could see your remorse, your guilt, he knew your feelings were genuine and for that, he forgave you and forced you to start training again, getting back into shape and get back to your former glory so you could surpass it.

-You came back like a wildfire, training your body as well as your mind and spirit, regaining the name you had earned so long ago.

-You spent your days how you should in Valhalla, fighting against other warriors, getting challenges in fearsome fights, you were finally happy again.

-When you were selected as a champion for humanity, you didn’t hesitate to prepare, ready for a fight, but when you saw your valkyrie partner was the youngest, only a child, you felt a fire, a rage, deep in your belly.

-You had to win, to keep Goll safe. You weren’t going to let an innocent die for your weakness.

-Goll was scared at first until she fused with you and your determination, your silent declaration to keep her safe, soothed all of her fears almost instantly.

-The other champions all respected you, as many had fought against you before, Lu Bu and Raiden being the most frequent partners, they knew you weren’t going to die without one hell of a fight.

-Your fight was definitely one of the highlights of the whole tournament, you refused to give up, even after loosing an arm and your right eye, your ferocity was almost intimidating to the gods.

-You were the victor at the end, but not without cost, you had gotten your ass kicked. Goll couldn’t help you when she unfused with you after you collapsed to your knees, as she was half your size.

-You chuckled, reaching a hand up to ruffle her hair before you collapsed, falling face forward, which made Goll panic until she heard you snoring, fast asleep.

-She was pouting deeply when you woke up, angry that you had made her worry, her little fists hitting at your uninured arm, calling you a jerk which made you laugh before she hugged you tightly, thanking you.

-You were quite cranky, being stuck in the infirmary, as you couldn’t have any booze, but you were just happy you survived, you accomplished your goals. You could rest easy now.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror goll

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svfttachi · 2 years

Note

Can you write Itachi and Yn kinda got into a arrange sort of relationship?!? And Yn stays a bit distant and barely talks to Itachi where as Itachi he tries his best to like you know care for her and stuff but he sometimes feels sad and hurt by her actions towards him idk

TYPE: Fem!reader, Angst, Fluff, Non-Mass AU

WARNING(S): None

WC: 3273

NOTES: I really liked writing this one, and I'm sorry for taking too long! I hope you enjoy this!

SIGNING a piece of paper that would dictate who you would spend the rest of your life with would most seemingly be the best day of your life, right? Wrong. Arranged marriages were common amongst members of different clans as a way to produce offspring that would grow to be powerful heads of their clans. However, marrying into the Uchiha clan was on a whole other level. For one thing, the Uchihas were known to be the most powerful clan in all of the Hidden Leaf Village, so marrying into it would be considered an honor since you’d have to be fit to a T to even be considered as a possible spouse to an Uchiha. The other thing, all of the elders were known for forcing young children and teens into pursuing the highest degree of honor that comes with being ninjas. That, in turn, only begins the rise of crushing mental health disorders amongst the Uchiha to which nobody tends to find a way to fight it and continue with the stressful path.

So, here you were inside of your new shared home cleaning up a little before the supposed arrival of your dear husband and one of the distinguishable ninja in the village, Uchiha Itachi. Growing up, you didn’t get why the girls in your class were always ogling over the Uchiha. In your opinion, he had a generic face with typical dark eyes and dark hair, and nothing significant stood out. However, that doesn’t mean you didn’t find him a remarkable ninja. You, along with everyone else in the village, knew what Itachi was capable of as a ninja. At times, you would grow jealous with how much attention he would get for being the best of the best in the clan since you were also one of the finest ninjas in your own clan. Shortly after the wedding ceremony between you and Itachi, you were advised to take on the tasks of a housewife rather than go on dangerous missions into the wilderness. It bothered you how patriarchal the Uchiha clan was, but who could you complain to in the hopes that that would change?

The sliding of the front door pulled you out of your thoughts, and your head turned in the direction of the entryway. Itachi walked into the house tearing his gear off from around his torso and untying his ninja headband, setting both objects onto the ground near the door. He took off his sandals, and you failed to notice the small bouquet of flowers held in his calloused hand. You were frozen in place with the broom still stuck in your hands as you watched Itachi walk up to you with one of his rare smiles that he only shows to you, his little brother, his best friend, and his former captain from the ANBU. Seeing Itachi in such a mood was a feeling only you could truly experience since the man had to keep his emotions hidden in his heart for missions and meetings with other ninjas.

“I hope that you didn’t make dinner yet. Let’s go out tonight, my treat,” Itachi spoke in his deep voice, holding out the bouquet of flowers in front of you. Your eyes danced from his delicate face to the flowers in his hand. “There’s leftovers from lunch that we can have instead,” you mumbled, turning to go back to brushing the floor with your broom.

No way were you going out to dinner with your arranged husband, willingly. Itachi sighed and stepped back a little to set the flowers down on the small dining table. “If you change your mind, I’ll be in my room,” Itachi whispered, hoping you wouldn’t hear him. Regardless, the words flew into one of your ears and out the other with no care in the world.

Light footsteps began to fade as Itachi left the dining room and went up the stairs to his room. Yes, the two of you had agreed to take on separate rooms since neither of you wanted this marriage in the first place. It would be more awkward if the two of you did sleep in the same room together, so it was quickly decided to not even approach that event.

Itachi entered his room and shut the door behind him, quietly not that you would have minded him slamming it shut. An exhausted sigh left his mouth as he approached the closet in his minimally decorated room and picked out a simple t-shirt with the Uchiha crest displayed on the back and a pair of comfortable pants. He set the clothes onto his futon which rested in the middle of his room, but instead of changing directly, he sat down on the futon and rubbed his hands over his face.

Over the past couple of months since the arranged marriage became official, Itachi’s heart began to beat erratically whenever you were in his presence. At first, he didn’t mind being in such a relationship since he was doing it to please his father and the heads of the clan, but the small amount of time he spent with you in this house was enough for him to grow feelings towards you. In the event you did smile, laugh, or show any sort of happiness in your face or body language, Itachi would feel himself achieve the same feeling inside of his body despite how emotionless he had to be due to his career as a ninja. Times when he came back injured or hurt from his missions, you would, hesitantly, treat his wounds because, of course, you didn’t want him to die from infections and stuff like that. That would just be entirely cruel of you, and you weren’t that heartless. Nonetheless, those small moments where you were your normal self and not some emotionless and heartless person would make his heart flutter even more for you.

A light knock rasped against the glass screen of his window, but Itachi was too into his thoughts to look up at the window. However, it didn’t stop his best friend from sliding the window up and lightly jumping into the room. It wasn’t completely necessary for Shisui to enter Itachi’s room like that because you didn’t care who was around as long as it was clean, but Shisui found it entertaining to climb up walls and enter in such a drastic way.

“I’m guessing the flowers didn’t sell her,” Shisui mumbled quietly, kneeling down to sit next to Itachi. Itachi simply shook his head and tried to take his mind off of it, but in the end, he couldn’t ever stop thinking about you. That’s just the kind of effect you had on him. Shisui placed a comforting hand on Itachi’s shoulder and patted it a couple of times as a way to show him that he was there for him. “Maybe she just needs more time to adjust,” Shisui added.

Itachi looked up and shook his head, “There’s nothing more I can do. She just hates me, and I didn’t give her a good reason to hate me… did I?” Itachi looked over at Shisui for the answer, and the older Uchiha simply shrugged his shoulders, “Who knows?”

The conversation between the two Uchihas was halted when a bird flew into the room with a scroll held in the strap around its body. It landed on Shisui’s shoulder, allowing the older Uchiha to take the scroll out of its holster. Itachi leaned a little close to Shisui to see what was written in the scroll only to find out it was an A-ranked mission that had to take place soon.

“Well, duty calls. I’ll meet you by the gate in a few,” Shisui stated, placing the scroll back in the bird’s holster. As the bird flew away, Shisui got up and headed for the window, anticipating to leave but he looked back at Itachi once more. “If you think she is worth it, ‘Tachi, then by all means keep going for it. I can see how much you care for Y/N, and she is bound to come around at some point,” Shisui said.

Itachi stared at his best friend for a little until the older Uchiha jumped out of the window to prepare for the mission. He knew his best friend was right, but was it worth it to cling onto someone who doesn’t reciprocate the same feeling?

Pushing it aside, Itachi, still in his ninja gear from his earlier C-rank mission, got up from his futon and walked out of his room. As he made his way downstairs, Itachi held eye contact on your figure which was still dusting the area of the first floor, hastily. Unknowingly, his feet walked him over to you to which you didn’t bat a single eye to. “Shisui and I got called for a mission. Don’t wait up on me for dinner since I may be back late,” Itachi said, rechecking his gear to distract his mind from the beating sensation of his heart in his chest.

You stopped dusting the floor and looked up at Itachi. A shroud of worry blew past you, followed by a light frown. “Well be careful, then,” you whispered and momentarily stared at his face, waiting for him to retreat. Itachi simply nodded and walked away to grab his gear, headband, and slide on his sandals.

Once he was out the door, you let out a sigh and went back to working on cleaning the entire house.

— — —

A bright blue sky was greeted with chirping birds and the exhausted panting of the Uchiha pair. The mission from the evening prior had gone on all night, and it left Shisui with some minor injuries and Itachi with a couple of larger gashes to his chest and abdomen. The younger Uchiha of the pair was to keep a large piece of gauze pressed on his abdomen where the gnash was still pouring out his crimson blood.

“You go get that checked out with the hospital, and I’ll deliver the report to the Hokage,” Shisui stated, looking begrudgingly at Itachi’s wounded torso. Itachi shook his head and continued taking deep breaths as he leaned against the tree near the gate to the village. “I’ll be fine… it’s just a scratch,” Itachi mumbled tiredly.

Shisui clicked his tongue, but he knew better than to argue with an Uchiha. “Fine, but let me know when you’re feeling better since you apparently despise the hospital and its authority to take care of you properly,” Shisui joked darkly before retreating onto a nearby rooftop.

Itachi took his time in going through the spacious village which would usually be packed with people, but due to it being too early in the morning, there weren’t many people walking around. He arrived at the Uchiha compound, and it was quiet as ever which allowed him to slip in undetected. In a matter of time, he arrived at your shared home, practically falling into the entryway.

The clash of objects coming from the entryway startled you from the kitchen, so you tossed the dish rag in your hand and untied your apron, making your way over there. Upon arriving, you found Itachi barely standing up with a hand pressed against a beam to keep his balance, and his other hand was weakly holding onto the blood soaked piece of gauze on his abdomen. “Itachi! What the heck happened?!” you gasped out, rushing to help him stand up better.

Taking one of his arms around your shoulder, you began to lead the exhausted man to the dining table and sat him down on the floor and on top of a cushion. “Let me see,” you whispered, staring at the gauze he measly kept against his oozing wound. A pained wince escaped from Itachi’s mouth as he carefully pulled the sticky gauze off of his wound, showcasing the depth it took into his skin. “Why didn’t you go to the hospital? This could be seriously infected!” you shouted, furrowing your brows at the Uchiha whilst shaking your head disapprovingly.

Keeping quiet, Itachi watched you walk away in a hurry only to come back with the first aid kit you both kept in the kitchen. You sat down in front of Itachi and motioned him to take off his gear and shirt which would allow you a better view of the damage that was done on his delicate skin. Carefully, Itachi pulled the sticky, blood soaked fabric off of his torso, revealing the gruesome jab at his abdomen he acquired during the mission. To your eyes, it looked less serious than it was when his shirt was taking in all the blood that emerged from it, so you pulled out the necessary supplies and began working on his wound.

The distance between the two of you was the shortest amount of space you two have been in ever since the day you two signed your marriage certificate. Ever since that day, you always kept your distance from Itachi and tended to be the caretaker for the home with him gone on missions occasionally.

When dabbing the outer edges of the wound with rubbing alcohol, you grew apparent to the wincing that the Uchiha was letting out, trying to keep them shielded from your excellent hearing. “Sorry… I have to make sure you don’t get an infection,” you explained in a low whisper, momentarily looking up to meet his narrowed eyes. Itachi nodded which allowed you to focus back on cleaning the wound.

A pile of blood stained and rubbing alcohol soaked cotton balls formed next to you as you began the next stage in fixing up Itachi. With your extensive medical training during your time as a ninja, you were skilled in suturing and stitching up skin to close a wound. Itachi watched with intensity how professional you were being in preparing the thread that you were going to use to stitch his wound. “This is going to sting a little here and there, but you can hold onto my arm if you’d like,” you commented with your focus completely on the thread and needle.

At first, Itachi didn’t feel the need to hold onto you in such a way, seeing as he was respectful of the boundaries you set for yourself. But as soon as the needle dug into the skin of his abdomen, Itachi found himself gripping onto your arm, making sure not to squeeze too hard unintentionally. Glancing up at Itachi’s face, a small smirk formed on your lips to which he simply chuckled in response, awkwardly of course.

The grand clock in your living area was the only audible sound ticking in the air as the silence of your voices were too encased in the space you two occupied. Itachi, occasionally, glanced down at your handiwork and was growing pleased with how determined, focused, and skilled you were with a needle and medical-grade thread. As a bonus, the completely focused expression on your face was enough to make Itachi go erratic in his heartbeat, as per usual.

Finishing up the last stitch, you clipped the thread and set the needle and thread aside. Reaching into the small first aid bin, you grabbed the roll of bandages and began to roll out a starting length of it to wrap around Itachi’s waist. However, just as you were going to wrap the bandage around him, your eyes took in the sight of the large gash, all stitched and closed up, which crossed over his toned muscles. Gulping, you proceeded to blink away the sight and went to wrap up Itachi’s wound, making sure it wasn’t too tight or too loose. Itachi wasn’t oblivious to the look on your face when you spotted his chiseled look, but he didn’t want to bring it to your attention.

Once you were finished, you began to clean up all of the used supplies and restored the remaining materials in the first aid kit. Before you could get up, Itachi grasped your wrist and pulled you closer to him to the point your noses were brushing against one another, softly. Itachi’s charcoal eyes looked up to meet your shining orbs, and it was evident that he was smiling now from the sign of little eye creases at the corners of his eyes.

“Y/N… I may have fallen, head-over-heels, for you,” Itachi whispered quietly, bringing a hand up to caress your cheek softly. Your breath grew shaky at the proximity between the two, and you couldn’t help but feel warmth coming to your cheeks, especially where the backs of Itachi’s soft fingers rubbed against.

In a haste, you backed away, got up, and rushed out of the dining room and up the stairs, leaving Itachi seated in the dining room with a confused look on his face. Nearly tripping a couple of times on your way to your room, you managed to enter and slammed the door shut behind you with your back leaning against it. Gravity pulled your figure down to the ground, so you sat with your back against the door and your hands rubbing your temples.

You couldn’t argue that your heart was doing a little dance through the interaction between you and Itachi, but the feeling came almost too sudden for you to fully comprehend. It was never your intention to fall for the Uchiha as you remained composed and distant with the man in the hopes you’d never have to deal with this, yet… it seems your heart is denying such intentions. Especially whenever you saw the pain you were causing him whilst treating his dangerous wound, you couldn’t stand to see his face contort in such ways nor the winces that escaped his mouth. Just earlier in the week, you were able to separate yourself from Itachi and go on about your day through cleaning and maintaining the house, but now… it seemed rather impossible to stop thinking about the Uchiha in these caring ways.

Soft knocks hit the door behind your back, startling you a little. Taking a deep breath, you stood up and hesitantly slid the door open, focusing on the look on Itachi’s face. He looked upset and bothered by the way he made you run away after speaking with you.

“Look, Y/N, let’s just forget what I sa—”

“I think I feel the same way about you.”

Itachi didn’t like being cut off before he could apologize for the way he made you react, but hearing your confession of your love for him was enough to make him push back everything he believed in and widen his eyes in shock. Never would he ever think you would accept his love this fast, yet here you were thinking about it.

“A—Are you certain of it? I don’t want to impose anything on you if you are not—”

Once again, the man was silenced, but this time, the interruption came in the form of a sudden casing of warmth surrounding his waist. Frozen and in complete shock, Itachi stood still with you clinging onto his torso with your arms wrapped around him, securely. “I wouldn’t say it unless I’m certain, Itachi,” you said, voice muffled by the fabric of the clean shirt he had put on prior to this. Itachi comprehended the situation happening right here, and he didn’t waste another second into reciprocating the hug, keeping you trapped and close to his body. His chin dug into your head, allowing him to place a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“Thank you, Y/N… for everything.”

*GIF DOES NOT BELONG TO ME*

NARUTO MASTERLIST

WRITING MASTERLIST

NAVIGATION

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skittles-the-whumpee · 1 year

Text

The Applicant - Chapter 1

tw lady whump, pet whump, trans whump, dehumanisation, kidnapping (voluntary), death threats, punching, slapping, self-degredation.

Hey there! This is my first whump post and the first thing I've written in...oh gods...years. Be gentle with the criticism...please? This is also probably going to be a miniseries collab with @sethwhumps. Enjoy!

A black van.

There it is, just as he said it would be.

Parked in front of my house. Double-parked with my car.

Thump thump, thump thump.

My heart pounds. "I guess this is it." I say to myself before opening my front door, clutching my phone in my hand. He told me to bring it with me. Why? I guess that wasn't for me to know. It doesn't belong to me anymore. The clothes on my body aren't even mine anymore. Hell, my own body is no longer my own. It all belongs to him.

I make sure the doorknob is locked from the inside before closing it behind me and make my way down the short flight of stairs on my porch. I brace myself on the railing to keep myself from falling as my leg gives out. I'm shaking. I know why I am, but I need to make it to the van. The man in the passenger seat turns his head towards the back and says something unintelligible, shortly after, the side door slides open and two men jump out and sprint towards me.

They're meaner than I thought they would be, roughly lifting me by my arms and practically dragging me to the van. "Get in the fucking van." One of them barks at me as he shoves me into the back of the van, they climb in after me. They rip my phone from my hand and pocket it after making sure it's turned off. I whimper and turn my head to get one last look at my home, my family still asleep inside.

I'll miss them, but they're better off without me. I failed at being a wife, at being a parent. They deserve better. She deserves a proper spouse, one with a career, one that could support her. Not me. The kids deserve better. They deserve a parent that played with them, one that properly homeschooled them, one that could take better care of them. Not me. A single tear streaks my cheek and I face forward again as the door closes.

One of the men forces me to sit on the floor and I comply, sitting with my legs crossed under me. The driver puts the van into gear and we are on our way.

"Wrists." He orders. I obey and raise my wrists to him and he closes a set of handcuffs on them, the metallic clicking and the cold steel actually feeling like a balm, keeping me grounded. As soon as the cuffs are attached, a wad of cloth is shoved into my mouth and duct tape is wrapped around my head to keep it in place. Once restrained and gagged, one of the men grabs me by the hair, making me wince, and he laughs.

"Yo...does he really think this...thing...deserves a private flight?" He jests, making the others chuckle. Another chimes in. "If you ask me...we should shove it into that crate over there and put it with the luggage. You know? With the rest of the dogs." I whimper at the thought, my eyes wide with newfound fear. They wouldn't really do that...would they? A hand flies towards me and slaps my face hard, sending me back down to the floor. "Shut the fuck up, if I wanted to hear you mewl, I'd fuck you to death!" The man that slapped me stands over me, holding onto a rail bolted to the ceiling. I cower and curl up to try to defend myself, my cheek radiating with pain.

The man in the front seat finally speaks up. "You better behave, he'll do it." He chuckles. The man standing over me pulls out a knife, making me squirm when I see it. "Oh? Seems it doesn't wanna play with me." A sickening grin crosses his face and he descends upon me, punching my body with his free hand over and over. I try to scream, begging for him to stop but the only sounds I end up making are muffled grunts of pain as I start to sob, tears streaking my face. Then I feel it, the cold steel of his knife against my throat. I instantly stop squirming, remaining still but still crying and begging from behind the gag, staring up at him in terror. "Hey, we need it alive...he won't pay us if we bring him a dead animal." The guy in the front passenger seat reminds his friend. The man with the knife spits on my face and rubs it in, using my face to push himself back to his feet, pressing it into the metal floor. He takes a seat, leaving me to sob quietly on the floor.

We soon reach the airport, I don't...or rather...didn't live that far from the international airport. I'm about to never see this country ever again. The van comes to a stop and the door opens. The two men that had shoved me into the van now force me to my feet and I almost fall out of the van. Two men standing outside the vehicle grab me and shove me towards the plane. One of the guys from the van hands one of the new guys my phone, who then pockets it.

Thump thump, thump thump, thump thump.

I know what I got myself into and I'm eager to go...but seeing the plane really puts things into perspective. I hear my own heart beating as it races. This is really happening. I'm going to be...his. His property. His plaything. His pet. I willingly step onto the stairs built into the plane's door. Having been owned before, this was different. The other ownerships were all technically relationships. This is not. I'm merchandise. Not even a person anymore. A thing.

A few more steps and I'm inside the plane. The men from the tarmac climb in as well and one grabs me by the back of my neck firmly, guiding me to my seat and squeezing hard to force me to sit. I whine, earning me another hard slap. He attaches my cuffs to a chain that, I'm guessing, is attached to the bottom of my seat.

I look up at him, my hair covering half of my face, and I furrow my brows at him in mild defiance. A punch straight to my chest, knocking the wind out of me and making me double over in my seat. He closes a cold steel collar around my neck and pushes me back into the backrest, holding me there with one hand and holding a finger in my face with the other. "Look at me like that again and I'll drop you into the Atlantic, you little shit!" His voice, gruff, firm, makes me freeze. I frantically shake my head in response, fear plastered all over my face.

He straightens up and walks to the cockpit, telling the pilot that it's time. The other man from the tarmac closes the door and locks it in place before taking his seat, his partner joins him. "All this for that worthless pile of shit?" He jabs, making sure I can hear him. I lean my head against the wall by the window, watching the tarmac go by as we taxi to the runway. "I think he's going soft...if it belonged to me, I'd just let it suffer in a crate in the luggage compartment of an airliner." His friend adds, getting a chuckle out of him. "Nah, even that's too nice...I'd beat it within an inch of its life and shove it into a suitcase."

They continue making sneering jabs until we're in the air. I tune them out, ignoring them as best as I can while watching the lights of the city go by. They're so pretty. This may be the last time I ever see them like this. What will he think of me, now that I'm already bruised? Will I be punished for already being damaged? I fidget with my chain to calm myself, the coldness of it helps ground me again. I close my eyes, finally feeling safe enough to since the two men decided to start a game of poker.

"I'm on my way, Master." I think to myself as I fall asleep in my restraints.

#whump writing #pet whump #whumpee #whump fic #whumpblr #lady whump

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sifinspace · 30 days

Text

The Knossos system was dark, dotted by planets and the rumble of new life. They had probed a few planets and after successfully finding an anomaly on Therum, Sheperd, Ashley and Kaiden were off.

Sif got up from her seat and stretched - “I’m going to go down to engineering and make sure everything’s tight.”

“Ask Tali if she noticed anything strange. There’s been a few hiccups I can feel in the probe launch. Then ask Garrus if he could recalibrate the guns. I know he would like that.” Joker ordered.

“No problem.”

Sif walked down to engineering. The halls were bright and illuminated with a blue hue. Calming. She always thought it felt, while the ship hummed away. It often helped lul her to sleep on difficult nights - even after the evening with Kaiden she used the sound to white wash her thoughts.

Engineering was louder than usual. She didn’t spent a lot of time down there, but Tali was more than happy to run diagnostics for Joker.

“I dont know why he didn’t call me over the intercom. Why did he have to send someone?” She asked.

“I was coming down here anyway to check on a few things. Figured I’d come say hi.”

Tali’s demeanor changed. “You’re not here to check on me?”

“Absolutely not. I wanted to say hi and ask an expect their opinion I mostly just fly the ship, I’m no engineer.” Sif smiled.

“Then - thank you. I’ll get in this right away.” She paused, “maybe we can all get a drink sometime. Get to know everyone.”

“Sounds good. I’ll let Jeff know.” She smiled.

“Jeff?” Tali asked

“Joker - sorry, I knew him before the nick name, and I can’t change it now.” She grinned.

“Understood. Alright I’ll talk to you later.”

Sif walked out of engineering with more questions than she at as started with about the ships function, but she wasn’t in a place to ask. Just as she was about to find Garrus, joker paged her back to the cockpit.

She made her way up to the helm and sat in her seat.

“Good timing, the Commander’s shuttle docked.” He said.

“Thanks.” Sif waited patiently for their next command over the intercom.

“Get out of here. Take us to Feros, hurry.” Rushed voice shouted.

Sif exchanged a look with Joker and they made the moves to hit the Mass effect relay.

Moments later the stars were nothing more than a streak of light beside the Normandy. They stopped suddenly - and there it was, Feros.

“Sif, Joker can you hear me?”

“Yes Commander.” They responded

“I need you to keep the ship close enough for coms. I’m taking Alenko, and Liara onto planet. When called we need immediate extraction. Well be leaving shortly - just finishing up prep.”

“Aye.”

“Shepard out.”

“He’s not taking Ash?” Sif asked.

“Yea, weird. They are connected at the hip. If you know what I mean.”

“Huh. I’m gonna run to the washroom really quick. I’ll be back in few.”

“Sure.”

She lied.

She got up and walked quickly to the elevator. She rode it down a few levels and found Alenko putting on his gear.

“Hey?” She said softly. No one else was around, Liara had got on the elevator as Sif had gotten off.

“Sif, are you okay?” He asked walking towards her worried.

“Yea, I just wanted to tell you one thing before you left.” She moved in closer to him. His armor looked heavy, she was glad she wasn’t a soldier.

“What’s that?” He asked, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her closer, tighter to him.

“Come back. Please.” She put her arms around his neck and hugged him.

“As long as you’re here to come back to I will.” He whispered into her ear. Her hair smelled like lavender, he loved it.

“Good. I’m glad that’s settled.” She let go and tried to turn to walk away.

“Sif?” Kaiden took her hand and pulled her in close. “Put a couple drinks in the fridge, we’ll have one when I get back. That’s a promise.”

He moved into her, and slid the tip of his nose down hers. He was wearing body armor but she could feel his heart race. She looked up to him, and he let his lips graze hers.

“Sif you okay? Why are you down in engineering?” Jokers voice buzzed over the com.

She rolled her eyes. “Wanted to check on the Mako. I had a thought when I was going asking to the washroom, I’ll explain in a minute.” She breathlessly called back, then silenced her Omni tool.

Kaiden didn’t let the interruption impede him. He kissed her lips firmly, and bit her bottom one. She returned the gesture. “For anticipation.” He whispered in her ear.

She walked with him to the elevator and they rode up together. He held her close the entire way up, allowing each other to be lost in the moment.

“What are we doing?” She asked him. Her head buried in his shoulder.

“Being human.” He kissed her hard again, this time backing her into the elevator wall.

The lift shopped.

They rearranged themselves and the doors opened.

“Good luck.” She said to him as he disembarked.

He rubbed his bottom lip with his thumb.

“This is all the luck I need.” He winked at her.

Sif blushed and walked away, finally she made it back to the helm.

“So what’s wrong with the Mako?” Joker asked.

“I was thinking when you felt something odd with the probe launcher I was wondering if the Mako had anything that could also be off with its launch units.” It was a stretch, but Joker bought it.

“Oh, I’ll get Tali to check it out.”

“Maybe ask Garrus to check its cannons too.”

“Good idea. He loves calibrating stuff.”

She let out a silent sigh.

——

Hours had passed. Zhu’s hope was secure and Shepard had taken on the exogene plant. All seemed to be going well.

The Normandy hummed in the docking bay and most everyone who wasn’t working the helm had taken to sleep. It was exhausting at times to sit in the cockpit awaiting orders, but someone had to do it.

Jokers head nodded up and down. Sif could see he was getting tired.

“Just close your eyes, I’m awake.” She told him.

“What? No. This is…”

“You don’t trust me?”

“-I do. Sorry okay just for a few minutes wake me if something happens.”

Joker leaned back in his chair and pulled his hat down over his eyes. Sif liked when he was quiet. It was the only time he wasn’t trying to defend himself from people.

She always figured he was over compensating for his disorder. She knew he felt like lesser of a man because of it.

He wasn’t. He was more of a man than anyone would ever know.

Sif sighed at the thought of them. She wished he could see what he is.

He was her best friend.

He was all she had, and the one thing she didn’t have.

Sadness filled her mouth. It tasted bitter. Sif missed having someone to love her back. She missed intimacy. She missed affection. She felt stupid. How could she want that from someone who wouldn’t give it to her?

She knew who would.

Sif punched some buttons on the consul and adjusted her ear piece. A soft song came through, and she let her thought’s drift to Kaiden and the passionate embraces he gave her was enough to satiate her loneliness for a while. It was the first time in years someone had touched her lips. She wanted more.

In her heart she longed for him. His tight body and black shirt crossed her mind. His dark eyes looking into her soul. His black hair in her fingers, her hand on his belt.

She grinned, then her lips danced into a frown. How could she let herself be torn so badly. It seemed obvious. Jeff wasn’t an option, but why couldn’t she let go of him?

The pit of her stomach punched her ribs. She wanted Kaiden, she wanted someone to appreciate her. Her mind was ripped in two.

“Normandy - Joker, Sif, prepare for extraction.” Her thoughts were broken by the sound of Shepards voice.

“Jeff let’s go.” She shook his chair.

He woke like he never really had been asleep.

“Great. Prepare for extraction.”

“See I told you I’d stay awake.”

“Yea sorry I shouldn’t have said … anyway, come

On let’s get them and get out of here this place gives me the creeps.” Joker said.

As the team boarded the Normandy, they went directly into the debriefing room. Joker went too, and left Sif in control.

“Okay well just leave it here, I’ll be back after the debriefing and fill you in.”

“As always.” She leaned back.

“Try not to crash my ship eh?” He smiled as he limped away.

They had parked just outside the mass relay - they never left the system unless something big happened.

Sif started playing her music again, and thinking about her situation. She wanted to justify being an interest to someone, and still have Jeff at her side. They’d been through so much together.

Would Kaiden even understand?

Sif stretched her tired back. She always asked Jeff before she would pursue something like this, a few dates in the past, nothing more.

Surely he wouldn’t have anything to say about Kaiden. He liked Kaiden. He didn’t like half the guys she wanted to go out with. Having a guardian was great, until it wasn’t she concluded.

Foot steps approached her. “Sif take some time to get some rest, it’s been a long day.” Shepard said to her.

“Where’s Jeff?”

“He’s coming, but I know you’ve been up the whole time.” He grinned.

“How?” She raised an eyebrow.

“I heard you listening to music again.”

“Again?”

“Oh yea, every time, you forget to close the com when you do it.” He smiled.

“Well - shit. Sorry if it’s not stuff you like.” Her cheeks flushed.

“It’s a change from what I usually listen to, but music tells you a lot of what’s in someone’s mind. Now, go get some rest, have a drink, and if Joker doesn’t tell you I will, you’re a hell of a pilot.” He smiled.

“Thanks, that means a lot Commander.”

Sif got to her feet. She appreciated someone telling her she was doing well. To rip the compliment from Jeff was too much effort these days, they weren’t something he readily doled out.

She made her way to the mess hall. She was looking forward to some left overs, but was met with nothing more than an old potato and coleslaw that had been sitting too long.

“Forget it.” She sighed. She walked back to her cabin and found something better. She ripped open the package of a pack of trail mix and laid down. She made sure to cut off coms to her room and turned on some music again.

The words flooded her mind - they reminded her of times before all the confusion, before wanting more of Jeff, before her feelings for Kaiden started to rise up in her.

If Jeff only had come after they were docked and spent time with her. Sif had been hanging out with the crew for weeks prior to any of this happening, they were pretty vocal in telling her how they felt bad Joker would ditch her for the Ship.

Then Kaiden started spending more time with her in their off hours. She wasn’t surprised this happened.

Her door buzzed.

“Come in.” She said, still laying in bed in her uniform. Her braided bun had fallen out, and was a mess of hair.

“Hey.” A smooth voice said to her.

“Kaiden?” She sat up. “You okay?”

“Yea, Joker said he was gonna stay up stairs all night and that they sent you to bed. I wasn’t sure how tired you really were, but I wanted to know if you’d like to have a drink with me?”

She smiled. “That would be nice, I was worried about you - you Guys down there.”

“I was worried about you too.” He grinned, as he moved in closer to her and gently kissed her. It was already familiar to her, the safe, warm, tender kind.

Sif blushed. “Here.” She grabbed two glasses from the shelf. “Ice?”

“Neat please, a whiskey like this you don’t ruin with ice.”

“Oh so that’s why you’re here! You want the good stuff.” She said as she poured a portion each.

“Obviously I use you for your connections in the whiskey world. Why else do I come poking around at night?” He took a sip.

“Good point, my years of bootlegging have paid off.” She tipped her glass at him.

“Nah, you know why I’m here.”

“We haven’t drank enough yet to be get cute.” She sipped her drink.

“I know, I want to - tell you how I feel before I do.”

Her stomach tightened. A ball of fireflies started to hit all sides of her.

“I’ve wanted to tell you this for a while, but things kept coming up, then Jenkins, Joker - but that moment before I left, I can’t stop thinking about it. Despite the circumstances, I have enjoyed every second with you.”

“I do too. You’re what I need right now.” She took a large swallow of whiskey - feeling as if she let too much be said on her part.

Kaiden blushed. “I - I want to spend more time with you. A lot more time. The kind of time where we fall asleep together and wake up beside each other. Time where I don’t feel like I have only minutes to be with you until we are interrupted.”

“Us interrupted? Never.” She teased.

“We’ve worked together for a while now, and I’ve watched you, for that long. I see you, I can see into your mind when you don’t expect it.”

“You can? Being a biotic allows that eh?”

“No, but your music does.” He reached over and turned up the song she had playing. “Your torn, torn between what you have and what you need. I could…” his words faded.

Sif looked at him sideways with eager eyes of anticipation. Kaiden stood and took her into his arms, he started to slowly dance with her as he searched for his next words.

“Last time I tried this, Joker got in the way. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a coincidence. I want to try this again, … I could be the one you need.” He said pulling her in squarely with his hips, her body pressed into him, she could feel his entire form.

Her stomach fired on all engines and started doing back flips. Just as it did earlier. She kissed him without even thinking. He didn’t hold back, he returned the gesture with force and breathlessness.

“Just let me try. Joker is a good guy, but he’s so blind to what he could have. I know you have feelings for him, but I could give you what you deserve, all of it.”

She pulled him towards her and let his arms wrap around her waist tighter. She rested her head on his chest. He smelled like whiskey and vanilla. He was comfort. He was protection. He wanted to make her feel like the woman she deserved to be.

She remained silent. Thinking. Contemplating a way to keep this moment from slipping from her grasp. She wanted Kaiden. She needed him. Dare she think she felt - love.

“I’m not afraid Sif, I need you, and living in his shadow has been so painful. Watching him ignore you, watching him just let you hang on to any hope he’ll change his mind. Let me help you take the pain away.”

Sif slowly raised her eyes towards his. His shirt was fit well and black with an Alliance logo on the front, his neck tanned, his chin strong, his lips full and slightly parted. Nose, perfectly pointed and his eyes, brown, closing gently almost as a sign of defeat.

She closed her eyes and let herself go. His lips touched hers and she ran her hands up his broad shoulders. He tasted like mint, and his beard stubble was rough on her skin.

Kaiden ran his hands up her back, and let one hand get tangled in her hair. He kissed her so intensely she lost all control of herself.

She let out a breathless moan, as he bit her lip gently, then her collar bone.

She pushed him onto the bed, and straddled him. She leaned over and kissed him. He flipped her on her back and rolled on top of her so swiftly, she returned the favor and wrestled him back to being underneath her.

She immediately stopped. “I’m so sorry.” She leaned back and had a wave of embarrassment flood her.

“For what?” He said looking up at her. His shirt half way up his chest.

“It’s been so long since, that. I just lost all control over my brain.” She turned away. “I finally feel safe, and all I want to do is rip your clothes off.”

Kaiden turned her back to face him. Her hair was messy, and her eyes look like they were holding back a cosmic force of emotion. He took his hands and cupped her face in them.

“It’s perfectly fine. I started it. I’m the one who should apologize.” He kissed her gently.

“No please don’t. I just, I don’t do things like this. I have been so lonely, and you’re so perfect for me. I - I can’t resist you. I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that. We are human, and the one man that should be in here under you, has a deeper relationship with a ship.”

She smiled. “You believe that?”

“I know how Joker is. He should be the one kissing you, making love to you. You might not see it, but I can.”

Sif got to her feet, Kaiden started heading to the door.

“Wait.” She said, reaching for his arm. “Don’t leave. I’m sorry please.”

“Sif, it’s fine, this is something I don’t want to force.”

“It’s complicated with Jeff and I. Let me explain, and you can decide where to go from there.” She looked pained.

“I like the sound of that.” He adjusted his pants, and sat down again.

Sif poured Kaiden another drink and explained her entire life to him. He told her where she and Jeff stood, what was going on in her mind. He patiently sat there and listened, all while holding her hand.

“…and I want you to be the exception to my life. I just didn’t know how you’d take all that, and I wanted to make sure you knew what was what.” She finished.

“I like being an exception.” He smiled and kissed her gently again. “Joker is protective of you. There’s nothing wrong with that. He watches out for you. You need that. Have you seen you?”

“No.” She said flatly.

“I have. Shepard has. Hell, Joker has and he knows what he could have.”

“You know this how?”

“It might shock you, but men, do talk.”

“Do you need time to think this over?” She asked.

“Absolutely not.” He said. “I know how this will end, and as much as I’d like for it to be us, I think you underestimate Joker.”

He kissed her cheek.

“You really think so?”

“I do. Until then, I’ll be here to hold your hand and hug you whenever you need it. I can’t be him, even though I’d very much like to be.”

“I’m sorry.” She whispered.

“It’s okay, maybe I need you in my life in other ways.” He laid down and she curled up next to him. His body warm and his arms comforting.

“I’ll always be here for you.” He whispered as he kissed her head with a breath of sadness.

#commander shepard #mass effect #mass effect legendary edition #jeff moreau #joker mass effect #fanfic #fanfiction #mass effect fandom #mass effect fanfiction #slow burn romance

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wonderloste · 2 years

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Despite him walking up to get his attention, Travis spends a few beats in silence, before letting out a frustrated groan and signing just the one word. ☛ Thimble. ☚ - @ aleister ofc

& RE : o’ my blasphemous angel / @galaxiasus.

HE IS , AS ONE MIGHT EXPECT , FAR MORE PATIENT THAN appearances would let on, although Alice had been the one to summon him here in the first place. He is always content to check ‘pon the small gardens and rivers that surround this cottage, so he doesn’t mind. Whenever Travis is in a mood that requires himself to build up his own courage for something, Aleister is more than able to keep himself busy, occupied by thoughts of creation, nature : perhaps even an inkling that, in truth, is he should likely move him out of this forest and take him back to his domain with him, or at least teach him to reach it ... but alas. He senses he’s ready before the thoughts are ever able to develop and in doing so, his attention is ever turned to the hume, wings stretching behind him as he turns to meet his gaze. It’s ... almost a little funny, how determined he seems, when he walks to him. It makes the deity’s lips quirk, amused, but he dares not speak it. He would not deign to falter the fragile boldness he had spent the last ten minutes preparing himself for.

Still, he waits, staring down at him with patient expectancy. He is shortly met with what he wants : an answer for what has kept the gears turning in this human’s head through the stretch of silence between them. To his credit, he does not laugh at him, though the smile that readily grows on the Jabberwock’s lips is both unexpected and uncharacteristic of one so oft void of emotion entirely. His tongue wets his lips, the bottom being pulled between his teeth for a moment as it’s clear he holds back something. Ah, so that is what it had been.

He wishes for a thimble.

☛ Has that been what you were pondering? ☚ He is so mercifully straightforward, even when it would be so painfully easy to pick fun at him. But he is nothing if not compliant, even still. He reaches out to grab the other man’s hands, raising them to his lips so that he may place a chaste kiss ‘pon both their palms. He knows that is not what he’d meant, but it gives him ease of pulling him closer, tugging him just enough that he is capable of leaning down to meet him, rest of the way. He takes both hands in one, then, and holds them against his chest, forehead resting now ‘gainst the others. ☛ Your prayer, my command. ☚ He signs slowly with his free hand before his palm cups Travis’s jaw.

His smile fades, similarly to the green within his eyes as the color shifts to pink. He is not so awkward as he had been, inexperienced as he may be, shy as he may feel. He understands now, he thinks : these silly little gestures that make one’s chest feel tight and their hearts flutter, as romantics oft wrote in their novels. He still has a great deal to learn, perhaps, but he does not need anyone to tell him why he closes the rest of the space between them to press his lips to Alice’s own, nor why the hume would ask it of him to begin with. Acts of love, mortals so passionately called them. Travis himself had said as much.

He moves his hand from jaw to the back of his neck, allowing his fingers to entangle in the strands enough that he can pull him closer, deepening that kiss if only for a moment. He feels the other’s hands pulling at him, as well, perhaps clinging to him in a way that he already had done so emotionally : he does not mind it. He holds him there, content to lose himself to that moment, until he feels he is forced to release him. In doing so, he presses an additional kiss to his forehead. Curiously, they don’t untangle completely. Travis’s hand still holds loosely to the side of his cloak and, in turn, one of Aleister’s hands remains on his shoulder, palm cradling his neck.

☛ Sweet angel. ☚

#hate these bitches <4 #galaxiasus #◟ ❥ travis + aleister : i can't help but want oceans to part‚ because i'm overcome in this war of hearts. › galaxiasus.#ʚ o. in character ɞ ⁄ you’ll lose your mind wandering for hours‚ may even decide to start talking to flowers.#ʚ c. jabberwock ɞ ⁄ stroke of luck or gift from god‚ by the hands of fate or devil’s claws.

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langston80langston · 2 years

Text

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

touch me

spencer reid x reader

Summary: Spencer is incredibly touch-starved and hard on himself since coming home from prison. Luckily, the medical examiner in this small town is really good at reading people, and exactly what he needs.

warnings: mentions of cases, insecurity issues, female reader, smut, blowjobs, riding, praise, emotional hurt/comfort. emotional sex, strangers to lovers, hook-ups,

word count: 5.8k

They had been in New Mexico for almost a week, solving a series of murders that seemed to have no end in sight. There was nothing they could do but go back to their hotels to sleep, hoping there’d be a connection in the morning.

Spencer and JJ were sharing a room as the small town hotel didn’t have accommodations for everyone that was visiting to help with the case. They didn’t mind, it was like a long sleep-over.

They did their own thing, kept their space and Spencer really did enjoy overhearing her on FaceTime with her kids. It was refreshing happiness in the middle of the madness murder sadness and despair they were swallowed by.

When his phone rang at 6 am, just shortly after he returned to his room for a quick rest, he sighed deeply, “Dr. Reid.”

“I’m so sorry to do this to you, but another body dropped and I need you to go to the ME,” Prentiss explained softly down the line. “It’s weirder than the other’s and you’re the only person who would be able to work it out with the examiner.”

“I’m on it,” he replied with a tightlipped smile. He hung up and looked over at JJ, already peacefully asleep on her bed. He closed the door softly on his way out, not wanting to disturb her any further.

At the other end of the hallway, Spencer stood and waited for the elevator. It seemed to be taking forever, everything he was doing lately dragged on and on with no end in sight. He was exhausted, still struggling with his PTSS, just all around not having the best time.

He was in the middle of rubbing the sleep out of his eyes when the elevator opened with an equally tired woman waiting inside. “Hi,” she said before covering her mouth to yawn, “sorry.”

“I get it,” he smiled as he stepped inside. “Lobby?”

“Yes please,” she smiled. “Are you here for the case too?”

“Uh, yes,” he answered softly, “I’m Dr. Spencer Reid, with the FBI.”

“Oh, hi! I’m Dr. Y/N Y/L/N, the medical examiner,” her face lit right up. “Agent Prentiss said you’d be joining me I just didn’t think this quickly.”

She was adorable, bubbly and happy in a way he envied. He missed the feeling of random giddiness, smiling at her as he felt the butterflies swirl in his stomach. “Do you need a ride? I have an SUV from the bureau.”

“Yeah,” her smiled got bigger. “That would be really nice.”

They walked closely together through the lobby and towards the parking structure, he hit the unlock button a few times while trying to figure out which SUV his keys matched to. Finally getting in and watching her climb in the passenger seat.

“Do you know anything yet about the body?” Spencer asked as he turned on the ignition.

“Yeah hold on,” she pulled her iPad out of her bag and started sliding through emails.

“Your tech girl sent me the initial police reports, witness statements and overview,” she began to explain. “Like the others, she’s a 25-year-old female, blond, blue-eyed, athletic.”

“Prentiss said it was a weird one?” Spencer added.

“They think she was embalmed before the unsub staged her,” Y/N added with a tone of disgust on her voice. “Do you have your tech girl’s number?”

“Yeah, hold on,” Spencer dug his phone from his pocket and dialled the number.

“Penelope Garcia, the 8th wonder of the world at your service,” she answered after just one ring. “How are you doing on this fine morning, my fine furry friend?”

“Not so hot,” Spencer replied. “I’m with the ME right now on the way to the body, she has a question for you.”

“Oh hello, ask away.”

Y/N was smiling on the front seat, enjoying the show they put on for her. “Um, hi I was wondering if you could look into anyone in this town buying embalming equipment, or if any has been stolen from the funeral home? This town is so under-resourced already, I don’t know where this guy could get this stuff.”

“Absolutely, I’ll add that to my parameters,” Garcia’s voice was lovely and soft. “I’ll call you back if I find anything!”

“She’s lovely,” Y/N exclaimed as Spencer place his phone back in his pocket.

“Yeah, she is.”

Spencer pulled into the morgue’s parking lot, the lights were all on and the Coroners van was parked by the loading doors. Inside there was just 1 officer, waiting beside a body bag as Spencer and Y/N walked in.

The officer gave them both a quick rundown of the crime scene findings, as well as information about where all the equipment was before leaving them to their work.

“Have you ever examined a body?” Y/N asked Spencer.

He nodded, “I’ve been present during a few, held some organs, but I’ve never done one myself.”

“They’re pretty gnarly,” She scrunched her face and giggled. “Let’s get you all geared up.”

She handed him a hairnet, a white plastic suit, goggles and a mask. “Gloves are on the wall, pick your size.”

He felt like a lunch lady standing beside her, taller than her by almost a foot, dressed in all white with a hairnet. He could tell she was smiling at him under her mask, her eyes gleamed up at him in a way that made his heart melt.

He had to remind himself multiple times that this was nowhere close to the time appropriate to want to flirt with someone. They were about to examine a dead body, and potentially solve a case. There would be time to flirt later.

But he was just so amazed by how she worked, being able to tell everything that was going on by just looking at the body. Making notes on her own and only occasionally explaining things to Spencer. In her own little world, solving the puzzle with expertise.

“The other 4 vics were just strangled and staged, dressed up and left in different areas around town,” she ran the case down more for herself, needing to hear the words to make a connection.

“Yes,” Spencer followed her train of thought, tilting his head as he listened.

“She was murdered, embalmed, staged and sexually assaulted. His MO is completely different and it’s only been 2 days since the last body dropped. I think he’s found his signature,” She explained her thoughts. “His sexual aspect comes out only when they’re dead and cold, we’re dealing with a necrophile.”

“While most serial killers start with small animals before moving on to humans, he started with women and then eventually grew to what he really wanted. That’s what we were missing,” Spencer’s eyes lit up.

“He’s a lot younger than you hypothesized in the original profile,” She added.

“You read it?”

She nodded, “yeah I like to know what you’re looking at to see if I have answers.”

“This is really going to help us,” Spencer smiled, his eyes mimicking hers now.

“I can finish up here if you want to go back to your team? I can get a cab,” She offered. “Go catch this guy.”

“Okay,” Spencer said, backing up from the table and taking his equipment off. Placing them in the hazmat garbage. “Are you sure?”

“Yes Dr. Reid, I’ll be fine,” She laughed. “Can I call you if anything comes up?”

He smiled again, “call me even if something doesn’t.” He dug a contact card out of his pocket and placed it on top of her purse. Waving as he walked out of the room.

—

He thought about her smile for the rest of the afternoon, leaving his findings with Prentiss before heading back to his room to sleep for a few hours.

He finally found his way back into the police department 5 hours later, coffee in hand as he tried to absorb all the new information. They had a lead, stolen embalming equipment from a funeral home a few towns over was reported 4 days ago.

He stayed back during the apprehension of the suspect. Simmons, Lewis and Rossi were closer and they didn’t think the unsub would be dangerous. No one was missing and he wasn’t expecting them, should be easy to get him to come in for some questions.

Much like the rest of this case, it didn’t go to plan. They found another woman in his home, having to shoot him in the process. Ending the spree, ridding the world of a necrophile. It just didn’t feel like justice was served when another person had to die.

Spencer sat on his bed, calming down slightly from the end of the case. Saving a woman, killing a murderer, it was all a lot to process in such a short time.

JJ was in her bed on the other side of the room, scrolling through Facebook as she looked at photos of her kids. It was a much easier way for her to calm down, remembering that she could go home to pure, unadulterated happiness at the end of a case.

They heard a small knock on the door, Spencer volunteered to answer, opening it only a small amount as he looked out.

“Oh, hi,” surprised to see Y/N behind the door.

“Would you like to come and drink with me?” She asked, holding up a bottle in her hand. “In my room,” she added.

“Yeah, yes um, hold on,” he closed the door on her softly.

“Who’s that?” JJ smirked at him.

“My friend,” he replied quickly, running to the bathroom to look at his hair and fix his shirt. “I’ll be back later.”

He grabbed his wallet, making sure he had a condom first, before opening the door only a small amount to slip out into the hall. Hiding Y/N from JJ as she tried to look out the door.

“Sorry, my co-worker and I are sharing,” he explained.

“It’s okay,” she smiled, heading towards the stairs. “I’m just a floor up, and the elevator takes a million years.”

Spencer held the door for her, watching her head up the stairs as he noticed the bottle in one of her hands and her shoes in the other. She walked up the steps in her socks, exhausted from the day.

“Did you get any sleep?” She asked him softly as she kept climbing the steps.

“A few hours, did you?”

“Yeah,” she laughed, “I woke up just before they called about the body this morning.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to just go to bed? You’ve been working for 12 hours,” Spencer worried for her.

She reached the door for floor 3, pulling it open with the hand she held her shoes in, “Sleep is the for weak.”

He laughed lightly, “do you want me to hold anything?”

“Here,” she handed him the bottle, “thanks.”

She dug the keycard from her pocket as he followed her towards the right door. Excitement bubbled in his chest as she opened the door and welcomed him inside.

It was exactly like his room downstairs, only there was just 1 queen bed and a few couches by the window. She set her things down on the bed, sighing deeply as she sat on the edge.

“Do you have any cups or mugs?” Spencer asked, reminding her that he was holding the alcohol still.

“Yeah, on the bar table over there,” she pointed. “I’m just going to change in the bathroom quickly, you can pour yourself a drink.”

“Okay,” he smiled awkwardly as he crossed the room.

She dug through her suitcase quickly. Spencer saw from the corner of his eye as she took out some shorts and a shirt, not even slightly worried about being so casual in front of a complete stranger.

He inspected the bottle, it was just a cheap scotch, nothing too special. He poured about an inch of the golden liquid into two cups, not a big fan of drinking but tonight he felt a little risky.

She came back looking more refreshed, very cozy, and still breathtakingly beautiful. He hadn’t felt this way about someone in a long time, the tightening in his chest as he wondered where the night was going to go.

Not to mention the longing he felt.

Even before prison, he wasn’t one to spend a lot of nights alone with a beautiful stranger. The added isolation in his life changed him on a fundamental level, he realized just how much he craved contact, and just how much he’s deprived himself over the years from both men and women. He just wanted to be loved properly.

He silently handed her one of the cups, smiling at each other softly as they tapped cups. Taking the whole drink, “oh, yep that was exactly what I needed.” Y/N’s eyes watered as her face scrunched up, coughing a bit.

Spencer felt the same, only being able to hide it a bit better. The burn was nice on his throat, it made him feel alive. “Did you want to order some food or anything or?”

She laughed, “that would be the smart and responsible thing to do.”

“Are you okay?” He asked softly.

She looked up at him, her shoulders dropping as she released the tension in her body. Looking into his eyes with care, it was so different from the way his co-workers looked at him. She didn’t think he was broken, she had to reason to believe he was even damaged.

“Yeah,” she smiled, placing her hand on his chest as she stepped in closer to him. “Do you like mushrooms on pizza?” She giggled, even this close to him with every opportunity to kiss him, she chose to just make him smile. Something that didn’t happen too often lately.

“I do, it’s my favourite topping actually.”

She took his tie in her hands and dragged him to the couch, “I enjoy topping sometimes too.”

She sat down on the couch and looked up at him, waiting for him to sit beside her. Patting the cushion beside herself while he swallowed sharply, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, making her smirk.

“I won’t bite Spencer,” she laughed finally. “I’m sorry if that was too much?”

“No,” he said, sitting down beside her quickly. “No, it’s fine honestly, I’m just not used to it.”

“Too busy with the FBI to find anyone to hit on you?”

He shook his head softly, pushing his hair out of his face. “I uh, I was framed for murder and in prison for 3 months. I haven’t really had a conversation with anyone I don’t work with in a while.”

“Oh,” she didn’t look surprised or scared. “That makes sense.”

“What does?”

“You’re soft,” she leaned in to press her hand against his chest once more, eye level with him now. Seeing his eyes dart from her lips to her eyes every few seconds as he licked his lips. “You don’t look like you want to hurt anyone, but something about your aura is changing. You know how to protect yourself now, and you’re stuck thinking you’re still in danger.”

“How can you tell all that just from looking at me?” He asked softly.

“If I showed up at any other man’s door with a bottle of alcohol and the offer of a night alone, I would have been pushed against that door the second we got here,” she explained. “You respect me, almost a little too much.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” His face was soft and curious and proving her point.

“You see me as a person, but I can tell you’re touch starved. Every time I get close to you, it’s like you don’t want me to move away,” her voice was barely a whisper as she leaned in even closer to him.

She could feel his breath on her face, her nose was close enough to brush against his as she stared at his lips, “but you won’t make the first move. You want to protect me from you.”

He nodded his head lightly before rubbing the tip of his nose against hers and making her smile. He let out a sigh, relaxing his shoulders as she straddled his lap, leaning him back against the couch. He bit the bullet and let his hands rest on her hips, looking at her softly in the hopes it was okay.

“Tell me?” She begged, holding his tie in her hands, running it through her fingers as she waited. “What do you want? What you miss? Let me be that for you,” she begged.

“Anything,” he finally tells her. “Just touch me.”

She loosened his tie, freeing his neck finally. She slowly undoes every single button on his shirt, untucking the hem from his pants as she opens it up.

Her fingers are warm on his skin, but he still gasps at the touch. Her fingers were so soft, like angel kisses as the pads of her fingers traced the skin. Gliding over every freckle, raking through his chest hair, bumping along the barely-there abs.

His thumbs rubbed against her bare thighs, where he held her lightly. “You can touch me too,” she whispered.

His hands travelled up to her waist, he gently pulled her in closer. No longer resting on his legs, but pressed close to his chest. Her hands landed on his shoulders, looking down at him with nothing but pure lust as her breathing hitched.

She cupped his face, gliding her thumbs along his cheeks softly as she stared at his lips. He opened his mouth to breathe, his bottom lip was plump and beautiful and she couldn’t help herself from rubbing her thumb over it.

He kissed her thumbprint before taking it in his mouth, sucking on it softly making her hips buck into his lightly. The suction on her thumb was more erotic than she expected, the feel of his hot mouth, his wet tongue swirling around it before he let her go with a pop.

She accidentally let out a moan that excited him, “like that?”

She immediately felt her heartbeat in her clit, she nodded feverishly. Suddenly at a loss for words, wondering where this Spencer suddenly came from.

“How far are we taking this?” He asked softly. “We can stop and order that pizza at any time?”

There he was, the soft and sweet man that she brought here in the first place. “Pizza is even better after sex,” she couldn’t stop the giggle from erupting from her, even as she bit her lip.

He smiled at her like she was the world. A complete stranger making him feel more than anyone had in the last year. “I’m going to need longer than it takes to deliver a pizza,” he admitted.

“Luckily they’re open late,” she compromised, leaning in and finally kissing him.

It was soft at first, then he pulled her in even closer. She was chest to chest with him as he breathed her in deeply. She melted into his grasp as if he had just stolen her soul right out of her body.

She was his now.

She kept his face in her hands, holding him as he broke the kiss to explore her jaw. Kissing every inch of her neck and chest as she gripped his hair, making him moan as she used her nails to comb through the long locks.

“Does that feel nice?” She cooed, running her nails along his scalp as he tilted his head back.

“My favourite thing,” he explained as he closed his eyes, letting her repeat the same motion again and again.

He looked so peaceful, running his hands over her back and sides softly as she massaged him. She leaned in and kissed his cheeks, the tip of his nose, both eyelids and his forehead.

He wanted her to touch him everywhere, her delicate touch made him feel worthy for once. Every self-hatred of his washed from his body as she explored him with care, care only one would receive if they were a most prized possession.

He felt loved.

It was overwhelming, he didn’t realize a tear had slipped down his cheek until she was wiping it from his skin. Shushing him softly before kissing him quickly on the lips.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, embarrassed.

“It’s okay, what’s on your mind beautiful?” She asked softly as she brushed through his hair once more.

“I just,” he looked in her eyes ever so innocently. “I’m not used to feeling cared for, no one pays attention to me this way.”

“That’s shameful,” she looked utterly perplexed. “Look at you? You’re gorgeous, you’re smart, you’re powerful. You’re kind and lovely and soft?”

“But I’m also weird and too much to handle,” he interjected.

“Not to me,” she corrected him. “this morning you could have said nothing in the elevator, you could have driven by yourself and awkwardly waited till I was finished my work. But you didn’t, you had a conversation with me, you helped me many times, you cared about me making it back here safely and you didn’t even know me. You’re a special kind of person Doctor Reid, and anyone who doesn’t see it is an idiot.”

He pressed his lips together in an awkward smile and furrowed his brow, “do you ever give out parts of yourself to everyone because you know how hard it is to feel appreciated?”

“All the time,” she laughed softly. “But not now.”

“Me either,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

“I’ll make you a deal, you tell me the worst thing you’ve ever done and I’ll tell you mine,” she offered. “Even the playing field.”

“How so?”

“Right now you think I’m super nice and kind right? And I just told you how I feel about you, but you hate yourself and outside of here I hate myself too. Share a secret, we can be fucked up together,” she smiled.

“In order to keep myself safe in prison, I poisoned a batch of heroin and almost killed a lot of people,” he responded without thinking.

“Okay,” she was a little shocked that he gave in so fast. “One time I stabbed a guy who tried to touch me after I pushed him off me twice already. He didn’t die, it barely even went in.”

“Both are technically self-defence,” he shrugged.

“See?” She smiled. “You’re not as bad and scary as you think you are. You’re smart and cunning.”

“Are you sure you’re not a therapist?” He teased her, “because this has been better for me than any therapy appointment I’ve ever gone to.”

She laughed again, kissing him softly. “I think it would be against the rules for your therapist to do this, I guess that’s why some men cheat.”

“How so?” He just liked listening to her speak.

“It’s easier to be open with someone you’ll never see again than it is with your therapist or wife because there are no consequences. They can’t judge you or hold anything against you, they do what you paid them for and they leave,” she explained herself.

“I’d like to see you again,” his voice barely a whisper. “If you’d like that?”

She nodded softly, “maybe I’ll move back to Virginia, finally.”

“Is that where you’re from?”

“Born and raised. I moved to Albuquerque with my girlfriend 5 years ago, and she left me about 2 years ago now,” Y/N explained. “I liked my job too much to move all the way back there and start over.”

“I can put in a good word for you where ever you want,” he offered before he could stop himself from looking too desperate.

“I’ll look into it,” she smiled.

He kissed the centre of her chest again before pulling her into a hug. Hearing her heart beating in her chest softly as she pressed her cheek to the top of his head and rubbed her hand over his back. Soothing him so completely, he felt beyond amazing.

And then she was gone, pulling back from him and standing up. “Wh-?” Before he could even ask, she was lifting her shirt off.

He stared at her breasts, eyes wide and jaw dropped. She walked over to the bar, taking another shot before she pushed her shorts down and climbed onto the bed. Completely naked in under a minute.

He stood then, pushing the opened shirt off his shoulders and immediately undoing his belt. He took a condom from his wallet before kicking off his shoes, dropping his pants and underwear to the floor and stepping out of them.

She was laying back against the pillows when he crawled over her, resting his naked body against hers ever so slightly. She just smirked as she looked up at him, “hi.”

“Hello,” he whispered.

“What do you want?” She asked.

“You.”

He kissed her softly on the lips, or at least he planned to. Y/N wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him down against her. Swiping her tongue across his bottom lip, begging to make out with him, finally.

Grabbing and tugging at each other as everything started to heat up, she could feel his erection against her leg as he ground down on her. Sucking on his tongue, lightly making him moan into her mouth.

His hair kept tickling her face, every time she’d push it away it would just fall right back against her skin. She pulled him off by his hair, gasping for air as they stared at each other again.

“Can I be on top?” She asked lightly.

He wrapped his arms under her, holding her close as he rolled over. Watching her settle more onto her knees as she sat on his hips. “Better?”

“Much,” she said as she sat up, taking a hairband off her wrist and putting her hair up. Raising her arms in a way that made her tits perk up. He reached up and cupped them, rubbing his thumb lightly across her nipples before giving them a squeeze.

She just laughed as she finished her ponytail, “having fun?”

“Absolutely,” he smiled up at her.

His hands followed the curve of her body, from her boobs to her waist and down over her hips. She was stunning, confident, everything he ever wanted and more.

She found the condom in the sheets, the bright purple packaging making it easy to see. She played with it in her hands, seeing how long it would take before he got desperate, but he never did.

“How long have you had this?” She asked, trying to tease him.

“Not long,” he was honest. “I just got out of prison, remember?”

“So you haven’t had sex since before you went in?” She looked excited.

“No, why?”

She smiled, “so I’m taking your free man’s virginity.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing?”

“It is now,” she giggled before leaning down to kiss him once more.

Trailing kisses down his neck, stopping only to suck a mark near his Adam’s apple. Hearing the sweet little gasps he made every time her tongue came in contact with his skin. She kissed his clavicle, his shoulder and down his chest. Making her way across his abs and over his lower tummy.

He gripped the sheets, not knowing what she had planned or where she was going. Spreading his legs, she kissed his groin, his right hip bone and the inside of his thighs. He couldn’t believe it, the way she explored him so delicately.

She ignored his cock for a while, kissing and sucking at any and all the visible skin she could find. He felt her smile against his thigh then, getting closer and closer before she took his cock in her hand and kissed the base.

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in, settling into the bed like water filling a glass, he was liquid in her hands. Her mouth was a blessing and she chose him to worship.

“Fuck,” he moaned as she took all of him as far as she could. Dragging her tongue along the shaft as she pulled back up. Swirling her tongue around the tip before taking him all the way in once more.

She pulled off with a pop, sitting up now with his dick still in her hands. She tore the condom open with her teeth, taking the package off and rolling it over him.

His dick bounced back against his stomach when she let go of it, hard enough that it had a mind of its own now. She bit her lip as she lifted herself over him more, setting herself down softly where it laid against him.

The head of his cock brushed her clit as she ground down on him, his hands found her hips once more as he instinctively helped her find a rhythm.

He could feel how wet she was, the way she glided over him so easily. Her breath hitching every time her hips bucked, she was enjoying herself. It made him even more excited. She leaned back down then, kissing his neck once more as she continued to push down on him.

“I need you,” Spencer gasped.

She smiled against his skin, lifting her hips enough for him to line up with her before she started to sink down on it. He watched himself disappear inside of her, feeling the way she took him in like he was always meant to be there.

“Fuck,” she gasped as she sat down fully, her hands resting on Spencer’s stomach as she tried to get used to it all. Listing herself up and down little by little to get the rhythm going again.

Spencer pulled her back in again, arching her back so she could bounce easier. She held him close, tucking her face into the crook of his neck as she started to move faster and faster on him. Hearing his breathing pick up as his grip tightened on her asscheeks.

She kept one hand in his hair as her other hand reached for her clit, pleasuring herself slightly the way she knew she liked it. “Jesus Christ,” she whispered against his skin as she fucked him.

It had never felt like this before, it was so personal for the first time. They worked together perfectly, not having to communicate at all, following the other person’s rhythm like a well-oiled machine with a task.

He felt her everywhere. Her hands in his hair, her lips on his neck. The way her hot breath tickled right under his ear as she tried to catch her breath against him. The way she pulled off him and sucked him back in, again and again, her breasts against his chest and her ass in his hands.

He couldn’t believe it. That a real human being cared about and appreciated him, even after learning his worst secret. She was special and different and everything he needed.

He could feel himself getting closer, wanting to savour every moment with her that he could. His hands roamed her back, over her shoulders and arms. He wanted to touch every single inch of her while he had the chance.

“I’m so close,” she whispered in his ear, kissing his cheek and resting her open mouth against his.

They weren’t kissing, they were panting over each other with their foreheads resting together. Euphoria filling the empty spaces between them as she came, gasping and shaking violently over him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, bending his knees and driving into her a few more times before he finished.

She tugged on his hair then, biting his bottom lip as she felt him twitch inside of her. Letting out the smallest gasps and whimpers as she pulled her hand out from between them and pushed herself off him.

Dropping her body against his, resting her head on his chest as they caught their breath.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her in a hug as he repeatedly kissed the top of her head. “Thank you,” he was still out of breath as he said it.

She smiled, laughing against his skin again as she hugged him back.

—

He woke up to the sun in his eyes and the feeling of lips against his skin. He blinked as gained consciousness, finding Y/N laying against his chest again. Her face in his heck where she was placing lazy kisses, trying to wake him up nicely.

“Good morning?” His voice was groggy and deep, it made her smile against his skin. A feeling he didn’t realize he missed so much during the night.

“What time is your flight back?”

“10:30, why?” He asked softly, rubbing his hand over her back softly.

She held him tighter, breathing him in deeply as she did so. Not wanting to let him go any time soon, “it’s 9:45.”

“Is it bad I’m hoping there’s a secret serial killer in Albuquerque?”

She laughed again, sitting up this time so she could look at him again. “Maybe I’ll come to visit my parents soon a find a reason to stay in Virginia?”

“I’d like that,” he smiled, pulling her into a kiss. Never wanting it to be the last one.

He waited till the last possible moment to finally peel himself out of her grasp, trying to find all his clothes and belongings from the night before

He kissed her quickly at the door before taking off down the steps and back to the room he was supposed to be sharing with JJ. He knocked on their door lightly, hoping to every god on earth she hadn’t left yet.

She opened the door and just stared at him with her mouth open, “oh my god?” She laughed.

“What?” He asked, completely oblivious to how he looked.

JJ dragged him inside, pulling him towards a mirror and pointing at his reflection. “What happened to you?”

His hair was a mess, he had hickeys all over his neck. His shirt was barely buttoned, definitely not untucked and he didn’t even have his shoes on. “oh.”

“Oh?” JJ couldn’t believe it. “Who is she?”

“Um, the ME from this case,” he explained, scratching the back of his head as he squinted.

JJ just laughed then, “hurry up and look somewhat presentable, pretty boy, the team is going to eat you alive for this.”

Sure enough, when he finally sat in his little corner of the plane with his glasses on and a hickey still visible above his collar, all eyes were on him. No one wanted to ask, they all just made it abundantly clear that they were curious.

Alvez even took a photo to send to Penelope, who sent it to Derek, who texted Reid only 20 minutes into the flight asking who she was. He rolled his eyes and put his phone back in his pocket. About to get really pissed when a second text came in.

555-0623: if you’re still serious about that recommendation, there is a spot available at the DC medical examiner’s office… I’d probably be closer to you than your therapist’s office 💋

He smiled then, saving her number and starting his letter.

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

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tunastime · 4 months

Text

2023 Writing Roundup!

Rules: Share what you wrote this year! It can be works you posted to Ao3, Wattpad, Tumblr, or anywhere else! You can share everything you wrote or just the ones you’re most excited about.

@bidoofenergy thanks for sending this my way! let's hope mobile formatting doesn't kill me <3

this year was pretty busy for me! I graduated uni in december, had a big project in january, started an SMP with some friends, moved out, got a new job and moved across the state, traveled a bunch, went to at least three other graduations... it was a lot! and I got a lot of writing done!

January

some ask game ficlets (here and here) with more tagged from the past few months!

Night Swims [Etho, mentioned Bdubs, 4746 words]

written for a follower milestone! follows etho post last life as he returns to his modded world and tries to make things easier for himself (and fails); an entry into the hot tea series!

Back Around [Etho/Bdubs, 6227 words)

the technical final entry into the hot tea series! etho returns back to hermitcraft after double life, looking to repair things with bdubs

prove to me that angels do love us (Scar/Grian, Pearl, 17203 words)

grian and scar learn to deal with grian's watcher tendencies, and each other. grian learns some new things about himself, and scar learns to love him. finished in january, but had been going before that!

February

official first chapter of SEN came out, in the midst of the sexyman poll. lots of personal fics and joke fics and gifts being written in Feb/Mar <3

March

On Life Series Season 4 [Jimmy/Tango, 1545 words]

jimmy and tango talk just as season 4 of the life series starts--speculation on what could and couldn't happen, and what memories might've followed them there

Let's Talk about Feelings [Etho, Tango, 1316 words]

etho and tango talk about their respective people in limited life, and how hard it is to talk to them

Promise I Held (Just Out of Reach) [Etho/Bdubs, 3788 words]

another entry into the coveted series of ethubs through the life series, cowritten by @oh-snapperss <33! bdubs and etho try to talk with little time on their hands during limited life

April

On the Wolf and the Canary [Joel, Jimmy, 3490 words]

joel and jimmy talk, finally, have a true heart to heart, after limited life. it's real sweet, somehow!

May

moving was the worst and also SEN was kicking my butt, also writing personal things!

June

listen man I just quit my job I had to keep searching

July

working hard or hardly working? (SEN drafting)

August

Close to the Heart [Tom/Ben/Harry, 3701 words]

a quiet morning for tom, ben, and harry. my first bangarry fic! posted in honor of the yogscast ship bracket.

Ficlet post that an anon asked for--throwback! [Etho/Bdubs, 993 words]

No Place for Strangers [Grian, BigB, 2333 words]

grian and bigb, both watchers, have a conversation near the end of limited life; it's an interesting conversation, to say the least.

September

no fics :( working for yourself is pretty hard man! also editing SEN!

October

Stretching Endless Night [Etho/Bdubs, 29740]

bdubs and etho pilot a ship through space on a return mission to their home. partway through, etho has an accident--a bad one. this tells their story of recovery.

SEN Fake Ending [Etho, Tango, Bdubs, 409 words]

the ending of SEN where etho and bdubs don't make it; a joke chapter that I wrote to exploit the Major Character Death tag on AO3 for one night

A Gear of the Heart, Turning [Etho/Bdubs, 2847 words]

an entry for @shepscapades' DBHC au--etho and bdubs in last life, trying to figure out their relationship and etho's 's deviancy. still.

Fake Fic ask meme [link to the first one! there were a lot hehe]

To Take A Slice of Twilight [Ben/Tom/Harry, 4594]

tom, ben, and harry explore the twilight forest in a world away from home. one of my first entries into the yogscast extended universe, assisted by @shepscapades and @myketheartista

November

Behold, Beholding, Beheld [BigB, Grian, 1285 words]

bigb talks to grian shortly after secret life starts--a look into bigb's watcher tendencies in another life series

December

Spotify Wrapped ask meme [link to the first one! there were several in that tag :3]

In the BG i've been working on SEN ranchers, a big dogs fic, and SEN docsuma! I published a total of 81,043 words ! what the hell. girl. um.

If i were to actually tally the amount i wrote this year it would probably be a good 30k more, since I have so much I wrote for just me, or just friends, or that isn't up to my publishing standard, or I can't post until later—all that stuff. Sometimes you write gift fics yk! fun stuff <33

thanks again bidoof!! I'm gonna tag my guys @oh-snapperss, @wren-kitchens, @hitheeprithee, and @stitchthesewords, as well as anyone who wants an excuse to talk about their stuff! (tag me in that!! I wanna see!)

have a happy near year y'all! much love to everyone who hung out this year <333

#text #fics #writing roundup #not many tags on this one but i was super proud of what i did this year!!#lots. LOTS got written! just not a lot published hehe #next year..... 200k >:3c #THANKS BIDOOF! sorry this took me so long i've been SWAMPED #hopefully i didn't forget anything!

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straykidseverywherew · 2 years

Text

One More Step (SKZ Bang Chan x reader) pt.3

pairing: Husband Bang Chan f. reader: established relationship, marriage, smut [18+]

Summary: You have been sensitive for a few days due to the situation and you can only thank your husband for not stopping worrying about you.

Keep reading… part 1; part 2

Warning: mention of pregnancy, unprotected sex, creampie, softdom!chan, explicit sexual content, fingering.

“How I missed hearing you moan and cry for me.”

"Get on all fours."

"I've been wanting to fuck you so bad."

"I want to live with my cock buried in your pussy."

Author’s note: I am touched by all the support that my writings have had, seriously, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Here is the third chapter, and I ask a question, would you like me to continue with the series? I await your answers, enjoy ♡

The image is made in turn by other images selected from we heart it.

You can't help but let the tears well up in your eyes as you say goodbye to your parents and in-laws again. Before the tears fall down your cheeks you already have one of your husband's hands wrapped around your waist drawing you closer to his body.

You shake your hand again saying goodbye to your parents and in-laws with a sad smile until you see the train leave and when it leaves, it is at the moment that you lean on your husband's chest crying inconsolably while he hugs you and pats you little while you hold on to his jacket.

"Come on girl, they'll be back soon." You know it but still you can't feel your heart squeeze.

“How about we go get coffee and a chocolate mint mousse?” Chan knows how to ease your heart and when you lift your face off his chest showing him your face flushed from the winter cold and tears, you smile and Chan immediately wipes your cheeks with his thumbs.

"Come on, it's cold." His hand wraps around yours as he guides you out of the station.

The rain accompanied by small snowflakes hit the car window, Chan never takes his hand off your leg and you don't stop tangling your hand in his hair, near the back of his neck as you don't stop singing until Chan parks in a parking lot near your favorite coffee shop.

"American coffee and mint chocolate mousse?" You smile and nod quickly. Chan looks at you and before getting out of the car he leaves a soft kiss on your lips.

Shortly after he returns and quickly gets in the car while he gives you the bag with your order and his. After that day where you told him to go to hell, where you apologized and it ended in another session of soft and silent sex, you have been more affectionate with Chan. You appreciate the visit of their parents and yours who have made you get out of the work routine a little and enjoy home life more.

"Do you want to take it here?" Chan asks, looking you straight in the eyes and when he sees you shaking your head, he smiles and heads home.

The way home is short and pleasant. Chan this time grabs your hand by placing it on the gear lever and places his hand on top of yours. He watches over you every chance he gets to take his eyes off the road and only smiles proudly when he sees you rap or sing.

"Chan." Just when you get to his side once you get out of the car, your eyes meet Chan's. You gently approach your lips and he, holding you tightly, draws you closer against his body as he pushes his tongue into your mouth.

"I was looking forward to kissing you like this." You can't help but smile as you playfully shove your husband while shaking your head in disbelief.

As soon as you enter your home, you cannot prevent a feeling of sadness from invading you. A few hours ago Chan's parents along with yours roamed at ease giving life to the house. Before you can continue to sink into sadness, Chan pulls you against his body and he says.

"I'm going to turn on the heating and I'll be right back." After placing a soft kiss on your lips, he childishly runs off to the control panel.

You take the opportunity to take off your coat and undo the button on your jeans as you take a seat on the couch and pull out the two glasses of coffee and the two containers filled with chocolate. After taking a sip of coffee, you smile and stretching your legs, you lie on the sofa waiting for your husband. When Chan crosses the threshold and enters the room once more, you can't help but look at him. He is gorgeous now that he has gotten rid of the black anorak you can see how the black turtleneck sweater takes on his silhouette accompanied by dress pants hugging his hips and you can only wonder how he can look so good just wearing only two garments.

Without a doubt, what you like the most is how his arms and chest look. Leaving practically nothing to the imagination, they show how athletic Chan is and how defined he is thanks to the sport.

"Babe." You come out of the trance when you hear him calling you sitting next to you but you are even more confused when you look at your hand holding his coffee.

"Are you drinking Caramel Frappuccino?" You didn't even notice it enjoying its sweet taste even though you usually don't even like its smell. You still remember when Chan tried to kiss you after finishing his coffee and you had to push him away while running away from him.

"I must have taken it by mistake." You say giving it back while drinking your American without sugar under the watchful eye of your husband.

"If you want we can exchange." You quickly deny even though you still crave the sweet and cloying taste.

"Mmm, I talked to Lix, tomorrow there is a game at the end." You watch as Chan takes a sip of his coffee while you nod, stirring the coffee.

"Sorry Chan, I have so much work behind schedule that I don't know if I'll be able to go." He quickly shakes his head as he grabs one of your hands and reassures you.

"Okay babe, we can meet up later." You smile and getting even closer to his body, you grab the hand that has the coffee glass and move it until it is in front of you, sipping another drink moaning and crushing your back against your husband's chest causing the latter to laugh.

The afternoon goes by quickly cuddling up to your husband while you watch a kdrama on Netflix that pretty much has you crying most of the time while Chan comforts you.

“But why are you crying now? They're just arguing." You shrug your shoulders as you feel the tears spilling out of your eyes without being able to control them.

“Chris.” When Chan answers your call, you say.

"I am hungry." And what makes Chan laugh makes you break into tears as you feel his hand comfort you. It is at the moment that your stomach growls when Chan laughs, gently pats your stomach and ducking his head, he says.

“Shut up, I'll give you something delicious later, okay? Sorry." And you can only laugh along with Chan, as he gets up and walks to the kitchen under your protests.

You've been a little sensitive for a few days. Probably because of all the events. The day you fucked Chan, you weren't surprised to find a dark stain on your underwear, the arrival of your period made you land in reality and again, you were disappointed with the idea of being able to get pregnant. The only positive thing is that Chan easily forgave you when you told him that you only acted impulsively and that his words got on your nerves.

In the kitchen, you help Chan cook with some leftovers from the past few days. After a couple of minutes, there are already two plates of spaghetti on the table with a sauce made by Chan and the leftover meat from yesterday's dinner with your parents.

"Mmm." You don't even wait for Chan who is finishing the dishes to bring a fork full of spaghetti to your mouth.

"How are you?" As you roll your eyes savoring your food, Chan smiles proudly and takes a seat across from you.

“Write down this recipe.” You say as you fill the fork with food again making Chan happy to see you eat with such enthusiasm.

"I'm glad you like it." Even Chan is surprised to see how you finish your plate even before he does his, usually he's the first to finish and waits for you so you're not alone at the table.

When you lift your shirt you show him your swollen stomach from the amount of food you just ate and you say.

"I'm already happy." And you can only laugh along with Chan, as he gets up and helps you with the dishes.

Since your husband has prepared dinner, you insist on doing the dishes by letting him take a shower first. A few minutes later you join Chan in your shared bathroom, and while he finishes bathing, you change your clothes and brush your teeth to the tunes Chan has selected.

When you see your husband walk out naked you can only smile as he wraps a towel around his hips and walks over to you, curling a hand around your hips as he rests his chin on your shoulder and wiggles his hips against your butt to the beat of the song. of Stand By Me in Latin version.

“So darling, darling, Stand by me, oh, stand by me, Oh stand, stand by me, Stand by me. And you can only move at the same time as your husband while looking at your reflections. Chan's face is buried in your neck but you know that he is smiling and wrapping his other hand over your shoulders, he still draws you next to him.

"You know something beautiful, every time I listen to this song it reminds me of you." You smile and slightly turning your face, you ask.

"Why am I by your side?" You feel him place a soft kiss on your collarbone and shake his head, he explains.

"Because the rhythm is sexy and it drives me crazy, like you." When you feel how with one of his hands he gently pulls your ponytail and your neck stretches to give it better access, you are practically panting as you rest your palms on the sink.

"Chan." Your voice comes out in a warning but the moment his tongue travels the beginning of your neck until it reaches the lobe of your ear leaving a soft bite, you know that you are lost.

His bulge bumps against your butt and you close your eyes enjoying the combination of Chan's hands, his warmth and his mouth kissing and marking your neck.

"I should take a shower." You say when you feel Chan's hand playfully go down to slip under your black silk robe.

"Hmm, you can do it later." Chan murmurs close to your ear as he slides his other arm across your chest making you sigh.

"Sure." Chan smiles and without warning, brushes his index finger and middle finger against your clit, grunting in pleasure that you're naked under the soft material.

"Fuck." And if it weren't for the fact that you're pressed between Chan's body and the sink, your legs would probably have already given way to the pleasure that begins to accumulate because of Chan.

The music has changed. Now the rhythm is much smoother so Chan's hips roll against yours in a more leisurely way, as does the movement of his fingers that seems to slow down as your craving for his touch, you begin to despair.

"Channie, please." The longing explodes on your lips as you push your body harder praying it makes you feel better but you only manage to pull his fingers away and when your eyes widen from the lack of touch, his body moves away from yours, while the eyes they open up to you in disbelief looking at it through the mirror.

"What?" Chan asks with a devilish grin on his face that pretty much just turns you on even more.

"Any." There should be annoyance in your voice as you look at how the towel bulges around his erect cock.

"Are you upset about something?" Catching the game Chan is trying to play, you smile and turn to face him, shrugging your shoulders.

“Should I? I'm good." Chan pushes his tongue against one of her cheeks as she reveals her dimples.

"I don't know girl, you seem upset." You quickly shake your head as you begin to untie the knot on your robe catching her attention.

"Not at all Chan, you seem to have a problem." Chan smiles and you, feeling cunning, open the robe a little, showing him your nakedness.

And he doesn't even give you a chance to speak when he devours your mouth and wraps his arms around you. Between kisses you stumble until you reach the room and when Chan sits on the bed, you soon sit on top of him, supporting your weight on both sides of his body on your knees.

Chan grabs your cheek and your neck kissing you again, this time their tongues join in a battle, when his cock hits your center, Chan lowers his hands until they are resting on your buttocks, squeezing them at will while you entangle your fingers in his curly hair still wet.

Before you can process it, Chan is already pulling your body, your back hits the mattress and he rises above you, when his eyes catch up to you, he asks.

"Let me touch you." You can only move your head and close your eyes before you feel Chan hook her hands around your legs and forcefully pull you in until you're lying on the edge of the bed.

After a few bites on the inside of your thighs that make you scream his name, he runs his tongue all over your pussy making you moan. When he repeats it again, you raise your head from the mattress and grabbing his hair again, your voice comes out in a plea.

"Please baby." And that's all Chan needs to hear when he begins to devour you with real fury. His tongue is everywhere, his hands keep grabbing your legs causing you to not be able to close them and you can only gasp and moan.

When his nose grazes your clit you're practically squirming for more, you tug on his hair causing him to groan and your whole pussy gets wet as Chan gives you a spanking that takes your breath away.

"Behave well." And still squirming in place, Chan attacks your heat again causing your eyes to roll back and the knot in your stomach to increase.

"Chan, oh Christopher." The feeling is strange. You just felt a pinch in your lower abdomen, which makes your whole body tense up and Chan notices it stopping immediately.

"Are you okay babe?" You quickly nod seeing your husband with reddish lips, he tries to draw you out with his eyes if it's true and when he rubs his fingers against your clitoris, your body relaxes.

"Do you think you can continue?" You frantically agree, biting your lip while you see the smile of your husband who, after blowing you a kiss, goes back to working between your legs.

After a while, the knot in your stomach is about to burst and practically the room is flooded by your moans.

"Baby, I'm going to come, god." And although you just warned Chan, when he nibbles on your clitoris it is enough to make you lose the north and pulling his hair gently you twist down from your height while you gasp and repeat his name.

“How I missed hearing you moan and cry for me.” Now Chan is practically on top of your body as he leans in to kiss you. You can feel the taste of your arousal and when he pulls away from you slightly, glancing at you, you wipe his face with the palm of your hand.

"Chan, love, I need you." Chan groans as you gently nibble his neck as you hug his waist and slide your hand under the towel, squeezing one of his buttocks.

“You are so needy.” You nod according to his words as he begins a path of kisses until he reaches your breasts. He deposits a series of kisses making you gasp and stroking gently, he asks.

"Are they swollen?" Just a "yes" comes out of your lips watching as he lowers his head to bite and turn his tongue over one of your nipples making you gasp.

"Fuck!" You squeal at how sensitive Chan's touch feels on your breasts.

"Baby, can't you take a little?" You shake your head as you tug at his towel trying to draw attention away from your sensitive and battered breasts.

"Chan, fuck me." And damn, your words turn Chan on like a real animal. In seconds he is already throwing the towel somewhere in the room while he moves ordering you.

"Get on all fours." And following his orders, you support both palms on the mattress as well as your knees, noticing how Chan's hands rest on your buttocks and go up to your back.

"So baby, so pretty and hot for me." Chan flatters you when you rest your chest against the mattress and stretch your hands behind you, feeling how he grabs them with just one of his hands.

"I've been wanting to fuck you so bad." A spanking makes your body slide forward as you feel his cock caress your dripping folds.

“I love you so much Y/N.” It's the moment you take a deep breath when Chan lines his cock up against you gently thrusting.

You gasp as you feel the familiar burn inside you as Chan continues to slowly push inch by inch inside you. You wish you were looking into his eyes, watching his jaw clench tight to keep from coming right this second, heat pushing against your walls, you're closing in on his cock.

"Chan, me too." Your mouth opens against the sheets letting all the air escape as you feel how he sinks completely into you. You feel the familiar wetness at the tip of his cock and you're practically moaning as your eyes close in sheer pleasure.

His hips move smoothly against you and although his thrusts aren't particularly fast they are deep and hitting that sensitive spot inside of you. When Chan releases your hands, you feel his thumbs on your waist and gasping, you feel his weight fall on you, although it only lasts a few seconds when Chan keeps both hands next to your body.

"God girl." Your knees give way through your husband's body and you lie face down against the mattress while Chan rises above your body, kissing the back of your neck.

"Oh my God, Chris." And it's too much, something inside you breaks and you cum against your husband's cock while your moans are silenced by the mattress. Chan growls pushing his hips further against you, forcing you to groan.

"Shit." Chan goes crazy when you squirt. The sound of his cock hitting your pussy is now more evident thanks to your arousal. When one of your hands clings against the sheets, you feel Chan's hand wrap around it as he nibbles on your earlobe.

"You feel so good." As your pussy tightens around his cock again, you notice how his breath hitches, letting out a raspy sound from his throat.

“Chris.” The only thing you do is repeat his name while you feel how the heat invades you again because of Chan who keeps hitting your g-spot.

"I want to live with my cock buried in your pussy." Your body writhes under his from the intense heat and hypersensitivity.

"I love you, dammit." And when Chan pushes himself inside you faster, you cling to the sheets as you feel his head burrow into the crook of your neck, letting you hear his rapid breathing.

"I love you." You repeat his words as tears slide down your eyes feeling the knot in your stomach about to break.

It is at the moment that your legs tremble, as well as your whole body when you hear Chan's moans fill the room. Your pussy tightens around his cock which won't stop contracting inside you as he sinks his hips trying to snuggle deeper into you. You close your eyes trying to calm your breathing feeling how your fluids mix and slide from your interior staining the sheets.

Ecstatic Chan falls back on the bed to avoid continuing to squash with his chest and you, turning to face up, lean on one of your elbows to take a look and that is when your vision becomes cloudy and your body fades away. full against the mattress.

You open your eyes at the smell. In front of you, Chan's two concerned eyes already welcome you and, removing the alcohol-soaked cotton from your face, you say.

"What are you doing?" Chan looks at you and caresses your face, he says.

"You passed out, are you okay?" You nod as you sit on the bed.

"Oh, I guess that was too intense." Chan smiles and says.

"We can go to the hospital and get you checked out." You quickly deny and grabbing his hand, reassure.

"I'm fine Chan, don't worry. Now, we should go take a bath." Chan nods and ends up helping you out of bed as he sees how your legs shake and he can only smile along with you as he carries you to the bathroom.

And even though you don't have much time due to work, you decide to go see Chan play the soccer game together with the boys. You have not even had time to have lunch, you haven't even changed your clothes after work. You haven't been to one of their matches for a long time. Probably because of the excessive workload you have and the schedules, but you know that Chan is going to be happy to see you here or at least, you hope.

When Chan comes out on the court you can't help but smile seeing how happy he is when he plays. Your eyes do not leave the number 8, seeing how he runs after the ball, finishes and scores two goals. When he throws himself against his teammates to celebrate one of the goals, your heart jumps and you just want him to finish jumping into his arms.

"Chris!" Just the instant his name leaves your lips, your legs react and you stand up. His surprised eyes find you and, apologizing to his friends, he trots up to the public fence.

You are not even able to think clearly when you start to go down the steps without much care, your eyes only attend to Chan who does not take his eyes off you.

"Hello." You can't help but smile at your accelerated breathing from the speed with which you have lowered, Chan smiles at you and grabbing your hand, responds with a "Hello".

"It was a good game, are you going out with the boys to celebrate?" Your breath hitches as you feel Chan's fingers gently massage your hand and when he refuses, you gently squeeze his hand.

"Thanks for coming honey." The shine in his eyes makes you tremble and wrap his hand, you ask.

"Would you like to have a coffee?" Chan doesn't even think when he nods and with a smile on his face, kisses the back of your hand as he moves a little closer.

"Can you wait a moment when I take a shower?" You smile and nod and just when he lets go of your hand, you react and holding a fold of his shirt, you pull her body making him unable to move forward.

When he turns, he looks at you and asks him to come closer with your finger, you stand on tiptoe, managing to kiss his lips. You can't help but be glad when Chan's hands come to rest behind your neck and he tries to move a little closer to him as he deepens the kiss. Out of breath, Chan lets you go after stinging your eye, he sneaks into the locker room. After a few minutes, you see Chan come out of the locker room. Now dressed in black sweatpants, his particular black sleeveless shirt and his hair cleared from his forehead, he approaches you after saying goodbye to his companions whom you greet from your place.

"Ready?" You ask when he comes to your side. He looks at you and before you can move forward, he opens the gym bag and takes out one of his sweatshirts.

"You should use it, it's cold." A warm smile slides across your lips as you grab the hoodie and slide it over your body.

The smell and heat of Chan hits you and grabbing his hand, you head to the exit with a smile on your face.

"Baby, I know you're busy but we should go get you checked out." You sigh in frustration as you take another sip of your caramel coffee.

"Okay Chan, if you calm down I'll come tomorrow, okay?" Chan smiles satisfied and putting his thumb in front of you, he says.

"Swear it." And you have no choice but to do it and cross your little finger and thumb next to his.

And one day later you're sitting in the doctor's waiting room waiting for the doctor to call you.

"Mrs. Bang, come through door three, please." And just as they tell you, you do it. As soon as you arrive, you take a seat in front of the table greeting the doctor.

"May I know what's wrong with you, Mrs. Bang?" You're a little embarrassed but you explain quickly.

"Well the other day I passed out after having sex and my husband is a little paranoid about it so here I am." The doctor smiles and taking note, she says.

"I'll ask you a series of questions, don't be shy to answer." You nod as you tighten the drawstring on your bag, hating your husband for being so worried.

"Do you have sex frequently?" You quickly nod. “Frequent or spontaneous partner?” “Frequent” “Contraceptive method?” You deny. “Last time you had sexual intercourse?” "Yesterday." “Your last period?” "Some days ago." “How long did it last?” "Uhm, about two or three days?" "Vomiting, dizziness?" “Ever dizzy.” "Okay, Mrs. Bang, go to the bathroom and take a urine sample, I'm going to do a pregnancy test." You nod taking the glass in your hands.

"I doubt it's pregnancy, I've been trying for a long time and it's always negative." You say when you see the doctor dip the predictor in the urine.

"Hmm, I'm afraid to tell Mrs. Bang that you have all the signs of pregnancy." An incredulous smile slides across your lips as you give a quick shake of your head.

"But, I, I'm sure my period stopped." The doctor takes her seat again in front of you and explains.

“There is something called “implantation bleeding”, it is often confused with menstruation but its duration is shorter and its color is browner.” You nod biting your lip nervously, what if you're pregnant?

Silence doesn't help. Although there is a slight sound in the background in the consultation, you are going crazy. When the doctor turns in her chair and looks at the test, she looks at you and answers.

"Congratulations Mrs. Bang, you are pregnant." And it's too much to process as tears roll down your cheeks and a smile slides across your lips.

"Sorry, it's just." Before you can finish, you feel the doctor's hand on your shoulder and after a squeeze, she responds.

"Okay, would you like us to do an ultrasound?" You quickly nod as your hand slides over your stomach.

When the doctor sends you to another room you are scared. What if something goes wrong with the baby? But when you put the viscous liquid on your stomach and start to slide the device, your eyes only pay attention to the screen.

"Look! There is your baby. " You can barely see a dot on the screen when tears start to flow from your eyes.

"Hmm, I'd say you're in week five." And you can only cry with happiness while covering your eyes overwhelmed.

After a series of recommendations from the doctor, you have to sit down in a nearby cafeteria to assimilate what just happened. The melody of your phone makes you come out of the trance of happiness and when you see the name of your husband, you get nervous.

"Yes?" You are barely able to reply as tears are already stinging your eyes.

"Have you left, what did the doctor say?" And although you want to tell him, you know that it is preferable to tell him in person.

"Everything is fine with me, I'm a little anemic but nothing to worry about." You hear a quiet sigh from Chan and a second later, he says.

“Do you want me to go get you?” Although you thank him, you say it's fine, so they meet later at home.

You're shaking while you wait for Chan. You have prepared his favorite food and you have bought the cake that he likes so much, in addition, you are dressed in one of his favorite dresses and you have prepared a small package with the ultrasound image and a baby pajamas that says “daddy.”

When Chan walks in, you run out to meet him causing him to whistle when he sees you.

"Mmm, you're ravishing babe, did I miss a date?" You quickly laugh and denying, you explain.

"No love, I just wanted to enjoy." Chan smiles and throws his gym bag on the ground, throwing himself at you, hugging you.

After a nice dinner, you sit on Chan's lap and try to explain.

"You know, today, I fucking can't!" Chan can only smile watching you struggle with yourself as he brushes the strands of hair away from your face.

"Come on girl, don't scare me." You look into your husband's eyes. Without a doubt, you can see in them all the love he feels for you and, reaching for the cardboard box, you say.

"It's for you, I just hope you like it." Chan is a little confused when he sees the box you just gave him but with a smile he begins to untie the bow. Once he removes the lid, and removes the paper that is inside, you say.

"Congratulations you are going to be dad!" Chan's eyes widen as he shakes his head and when he sees your tears slipping down your cheeks, he grabs the back of your neck pulling you against him.

"I cant believe it." Your smile is accompanied by a sob as Chan is already kissing you.

When Chan separates, he looks at you again with eyes full of love and now on the verge of tears as he reaches out his hand to rest on your stomach.

"My God, I am the happiest man in the world, you make me like this." And pulling you back against his chest, he looks at the ultrasound.

"It's just wow, we're going to be dads, I can't believe it. I can't wait to see you holding my baby, oh god." Chan is excited his eyes are shining and he can't stop smiling.

"Chan, I love you."You say running your hands behind his neck as you listen to him reply.

"I love them." And with a stupid smile on your face, you kiss your husband.

253 notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

Hey Angel - Harry Styles

a/n: since i had so much time on my hand at work lately (not anymore unfortunately) i used it wisely and cooked up this PA themed fic bc i absolutely love this trope. it’s lengthy and kinda emotional? kinda, lol. hope you’ll like it and as always, feedback is much appreciated!!

warning: sexual content

word count: 11.5k

masterlist

Harry likes to pretend he is tall enough to comfortably rest his chin on the top of your head when he stands behind you, but that’s not true. He has to push himself a little to his tippy toes and push you down at the same time to fit his chin above you, his arms weighing down on your shoulders. You stopped arguing him that you need to push your hips forward when he does this so you don’t carry his whole weight.

“Tha’s rude, you do not have to do tha’!” he defended himself every time you brought up, so you just stopped.

Now as you watch the game of air hockey unfold in front of you, a half empty pint in your hand, you don’t even budge when you feel a chiseled chin resting on the top of your head, you push your hips forward without a second thought to shorten your height. You catch a glimpse of a tattooed forearm on your shoulder, Harry’s chest presses against your back gently.

He doesn’t stay in this position too long, it’s making it hard to drink so soon enough, he wraps his left arm around your shoulders, coming to stand next to you, sipping on his tequila on the rocks.

“Hey you,” you smile at him as he gives you a side look, a boyish smirk tugging on his pink lips. “Everything alright?”

“Everything is fine.”

“You need something? How much have you had to drink?” you ask furrowing your eyebrows, looking down at his glass that was certainly full when you last saw him about ten minutes ago.

“Shush, stop pretending like you’re working,” he waves at your face, his words melting together, definitely thanks to the alcohol he has consumed tonight.

“I know I’m not working, I’m just tryna’ be your friend and look out for you.” Bringing your own drink up to your lips, you give him a look, but he just smirks at you playfully.

“Uh-huh, whatever. Don’t worry about me.”

“I always worry about you, H,” you sigh dramatically and it makes him laugh with his head falling back.

“Is this the part where you tell me I’m some spoiled brat celebrity you ‘ave to babysit for your living? And that I always do ridiculous shit so you ‘ave to keep an eye on me at all times?”

You can’t push your smile down at how far this statement is from reality. You just like to tease him about being a typical, asshole rockstar when he is literally your favorite person in the world without a doubt.

“Oh Angel, you can’t fool me,” he cackles, squeezing you to his side before taking another sip from his drink.

“Wouldn’t even try to,” you mumble with an amused smile. “Havin’ fun, birthday boy?” you ask, leaning into his side. You would never admit, but you love how touchy Harry can get sometimes, not really caring about physical boundaries, especially when he drinks. The hugs, the squeezes, the touches, they always make your heart flutter even after knowing him for years.

“I’m havin’ a blast. What about you?”

“What about me? It’s not my birthday,” you chuckle shortly.

“So what? I can’t make sure you’re enjoying your night?” he frowns at you dramatically that just makes you laugh.

“I’m having a great night. It’s just that my boss keeps coming after me even though I’m supposed to be off the clock.”

You peek up at him to see the grin on his face at your teasing. The dynamic between the two of you has been like this since day one. The constant bickering and teasing is what really brought the two of you close, you are so similar, it’s like you can see a male version of yourself when you look at him.

“Tell the dude to fuck off,” he mumbles into his drink and you bump your hip against him, but he just holds you tight to his side as an answer.

Soon enough, Harry joins the game and you watch him play from the side, obviously cheering on his opponent to annoy him, earning some pretty dirty looks from him whenever they score against him and you let out a “woho!” in victory.

“Y’know, it’s not too nice to cheer against the birthday boy, is it?” he calls you out when the table is taken by someone else and he joins you at the side again.

“Am I not allowed to choose who I want to cheer to?” you ask with a faked puzzled look and he presses his lips into a thin line, glaring down at you intently.

“Don’t test me, Angel,” he grumbles into your ear before walking off to join his friends who came out to celebrate with him today.

It’s a pretty lowkey celebration, since he is still in the middle of filming Don’t Worry Darling, so he couldn’t really travel far from the set, but some of his dearest friends were able to come here and celebrate with him and his cast members.

You stand at the bar and your eyes find him every time you scan the place, not able to keep your gaze away from him for too long, he just demands the attention. Or at least yours.

You’ve never met anyone like him. When you got the chance to be his personal assistant four years ago at the very beginning of his solo career, you never thought how he’ll move right into your heart and never leave it. Whether you look at him as your boss or your friend, you can’t deny that he changed your life and you’ve learned so much from him, you can only hope he thinks of you somewhat the same. However you always tell yourself: what could you possibly give for The Harry Styles? He has everything in the whole wide world.

Harry catches you staring and he arches a brow at you, abandoning the conversation he has been in for the past minutes, mouthing you “what’s up, Angel”, his accent thick even without hearing his voice.

He’s been calling you Angel for longer than you can remember. When you asked him why the nickname, he said it’s because One Direction’s song Hey Angel was written about you. It was a fat lie, you haven’t met him when the song was written, but his words still tightened your chest, playing with the thought of Harry writing a song about you.

As cheesy and cliché as it is, you fell for him faster than you’d like to admit. You tried to fight it for a while, convince yourself it’s just a silly crush, but you soon had to realize you outgrew that after the first few weeks working with him. How could you not fall for him? He is everything any woman could wish for and he has you wrapped around his fingers, just like he has half the female population, probably.

You shake your head in his way, not sure how to tell him you just got lost in your thoughts about him. In fact, he occupies your mind pretty much all the time, but he doesn’t have to know about that.

He excuses himself from the table and walks up to you, a slow breath leaving your nose as you watch him approach you.

“Tired?” he asks, stopping in front of you, placing his empty glass to the counter.

“Kinda,” you nod.

“Want to head home soon?”

“Don’t worry about me. I can just call a taxi and go home, you don’t have to come.”

“Don’t be silly, we go to the same place, obviously we’re gonna go home together.”

Since filming has started, Harry and you’ve been sharing a nice apartment near the set. It was his idea to rent a place for the two of you, rather than to stay at a hotel. At first you didn’t think it would be a good idea, but of course, he convinced you to live with him for the months while the movie is being filmed. So now you basically live with Harry, share pretty much all your living space with him, except your bedroom.

“But it’s your birthday, stay as long as you want,” you tell him, not wanting to snatch him away from his friends on his big day.

“We’re filming in the afternoon tomorrow, can’t drag the night too long either way,” he shrugs, trying to make you believe it’s really nothing.

No matter how badly you try to convince him to stay, he doesn’t bulge and starts saying goodbye within an hour, calling the two of you a car to take you home. He is clearly tipsy, but not drunk. Once you’re in the car, Harry’s hand finds yours and he pulls you closer in the backseat until your thighs are pressed together. He curls an arm around your shoulders, holding you tight to his side, sinking down in the seat. You let your head rest on his shoulder, enjoying the closeness of his body, pressing down any worrying thought that usually makes its way to your mind every time Harry gets a little cozier than the usual.

The rational side of your brain knows you should be keeping some distance from him for the sake of your own sanity and emotional health, but you just can’t. Denying these little moments from yourself would be like pure torture and your heart can’t take that for sure.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” he murmurs, his nose nuzzling into your hair and you just shrug your shoulders.

“Nothing,” you mumble your lie.

“Liar, I can hear the gears turning in that pretty head of yours,” he grins down at you as your eyes lock for a moment. Thank God for the darkness in the car, because you can feel your cheeks heating up. The last thing you need is for Harry to see how nervous he can make you feel with just a simple compliment.

“Stop being nosy, you don’t have to know everything all the time.” You poke his side with your elbow, it makes him jump a little before he snuggles back to your side.

“That’s not true, you know I’m entitled to hold every knowledge in the world.” He tries to hide his smirk, but he fails miserably and you just laugh at him with your head falling back to his shoulder.

“Harry Styles, you are something else,” you sigh shaking your head at him.

Arriving home Harry keeps an arm around you as you walk up to the front door, fishing your keys out of your bag since you’d bet Harry didn’t bring his. There’s a chance he hasn’t even used his copy since you’ve been here, he knows you always have yours and you haven’t really left without each other so far, always staying around the other.

“Want to shower first?” he hums, walking inside, his arm leaving your shoulders and though you feel lighter without the extra weight, you wish it was still there.

“Go for it, I’m gonna clean up the mess I made when I got ready earlier,” you tell him, heading into your bedroom where the floor is littered with half your wardrobe from earlier, when you were trying to figure out what to wear for the little outing.

Harry disappears in the shared bathroom and a moment later you hear the water running. You go around your room, picking up the dresses you voted against, placing them back into the wardrobe and then you put away your makeup you left on your bed in your hurry.

“Bathroom is yours!” Harry calls out just when you finish, you hear his bedroom door open and close so you grab a clean oversized t-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts before occupying the bathroom.

The warm shower feels nice, it’s been a long day since you started on set, Harry had a few scenes to film before you could leave in the afternoon. You wash away the day, scrub your makeup off and then take off the rest with your wipes once you’re out. You brush your hair and use some lotion for your dry skin before getting dressed and leaving the steamy bathroom.

Padding down the short hallway you hear nothing coming from Harry’s bedroom and you wonder if he’s already asleep, but once you step inside your room you see that he is cozied up on your bed, your covers pulled up to his naked chest, a pillow tucked under his head as he scrolls through his phone so shamelessly, as if it was his own room.

“Did you take the wrong turn in the hallway?” you ask with an arched eyebrow as you throw your dirty clothes to your temporary hamper, which is basically your emptied out suitcase.

“Nope,” he grins smugly, you have to roll your eyes at him. He locks his phone, dropping it to the side table, watching you move around, getting ready for bed and his eyes on your figure feel like they’re burning down on your skin.

“You know, it’s rude to stare,” you comment not even looking at him, but you just know he is still staring at you. Grabbing a hairtie from the little dresses in the corner of your room you reach back to loosely braid your hair, but his voice stops you.

“Wait,” he pleads and you furrow your eyebrows at him. “Can I do it?”

You give him a confused look as he pushes himself up into a sitting position, his green eyes are glimmering from the tiredness and the alcohol he has consumed tonight.

“You want to braid my hair?”

“Yeah,” he nods. You hesitate for a moment but join him on the bed at last, turning your back against him, giving him full control over your hair.

A shiver runs down your spine when you feel his fingers raking through your strands. He is so gentle and careful as you feel him section your hair off to three parts.

“Didn’t know you can braid,” you tell him, eyes fixated on the sheets in front of you.

“Gemma taught me, but I’m not the best at it.”

“So I’ll look atrocious?” you tease him smiling to yourself. He pokes the back of your neck with his fingers before continuing his work.

“You could never look atrocious, even if you tried.”

“And you are such a flirt,” you sigh. Over the years you’ve gotten used to his flirty act, it’s just who he is and though in the beginning your breath always got caught in your throat when he said something cheesy, now you just brush it off, only thinking about his words when you are alone in the night, struggling to fall asleep because you’re once again, thinking about him.

“M’telling the truth. Have I told you how beautiful you looked tonight?”

“Mmm,” you hum. He has told you that you looked pretty when the two of you left and he saw you walk out of your room in your black skinny jeans and flowy sheer top on, your hair loosely curled, but you didn’t really know what to say, so you just smiled at him and it’s the same now. You’re not the best at taking compliments.

“You really did. You always are.”

“And once again, you are such a flirt.”

“Complimenting a pretty woman is being a flirt?” he asks pretending to be offended as he carefully works on your hair and you wish you could see his focused face as he is trying to keep track of the sections between his fingers. At a lack of a witty comeback, you just shrug your shoulders, fumbling with your fingers on your lap.

You both fall silent as he concentrates on your hair and you manage to stop thinking, just focus on how his fingers keep brushing against your back every time he crosses two sections over each other.

“Hairtie, please,” he asks, his hand appearing next to you with his palm upwards. You place it in his hand and he finishes up his masterpiece. “There, it didn’t turn out as bad as I thought,” he comments once he is done. Reaching back you run your fingers over the braid and it feels good, he did a great job.

“Thanks,” you smile at him shyly, turning around. He leans back, making himself comfortable once again and you arch an eyebrow at him. “Need me to walk you back to your room, sir?”

“No, I’m perfectly fine here,” he grins smugly, tugging his arm behind his head as he takes up the right side of the bed.

“You’re planning to sleep here?”

“Please, don’t make me sleep alone on my birthday!” he pouts, giving you those damned puppy eyes. How could you ever say no to him?

“You better not push me off the bed in your sleep,” you mumble before getting under the covers.

You turn off the bedside lamp and the two of you start moving around, finding a comfortable pose to sleep in and you end up facing each other on your sides, Harry’s face squished into the pillow as his eyes are roaming over the hand you have laid between your faces.

His fingers start to inch towards yours until he hooks his pinky with yours, the touch sending a warm feeling down your spine.

“I hate sleeping alone,” he mumbles into the semi-darkness.

“Why?”

“Don’t you like it when there’s someone next to you? When you wake up and you’re not alone?”

“I like it, but I don’t hate sleeping alone either,” you tell him as your eyes fall to your linked pinky fingers. “Why do you hate it? You have the bed all to yourself, and there’s no chance of waking up to someone snoring or talking in their sleep.”

He huffs out a laugh as he buries his head deeper into the pillow.

“It makes me feel lonely. Which is ridiculous, because I’m never alone.”

“But lonely and alone are not the same, so it’s not ridiculous. You can feel lonely when you’re not alone.”

“I know,” he nods, his eyes watching your linked fingers intently, before he moves his hand so it’s now covering yours, his warm palm wrapping around your much smaller hand. “I’m never lonely with you, though.”

“So… you are only lonely when you’re sleeping or in the bathroom, because we basically spend every moment of the day together.” You smirk at him and see his dimple form in his cheek as he smiles at you nodding.

“That’s right. We are like glued together.”

“How aren’t we sick of each other already?”

“That’s never gonna happen.”

“You sure about that?” You raise your eyebrows at him with an amused smile, he is too sure about that answer.

“One hundred percent. You’re my favorite person.”

“Is that what you tell everyone?”

He gives you a look, but you just chuckle, sinking further into your pillow. His fingers start playing with your hand as he draws a deep breath.

“I only tell this to m’ mum and Gemma. No one else.”

Your heart starts racing at the thought of him seeing you on the same level as his closest family. You know how much his mum and sister mean to him, but you never thought you are anywhere near them in his eyes.

“You’re my favorite person too,” you whisper as your eyes meet over your joined hands. He smiles at you warmly, his floppy curls falling into his forehead and you want to run your fingers through them, feel how soft they are under your touch. Harry scoots closer, your faces only a few inches away from each other as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

For a moment you just watch him, thinking how good it feels to have him in your bed. How amazing it is to end the day with him so close to you. You wish all days would end like this, you wouldn’t have another bad day with him next to you.

Lying there and watching him slowly fall asleep, his hand still on yours, the bitter thought eats itself into your mind that he is only here because he feels lonely and wanted to be close to someone, not you particularly. And though you’re glad it’s you he ended up next to, you try not to get too accustomed to the feeling, because you’re just a temporary fix to his loneliness.

The door to Harry’s trailer opens and he walks in wearing his blue dress pants and crispy white dress shirt, fumbling with the top buttons to undo them. You glance up at him from your laptop where you’ve been working on his schedule for the upcoming weeks while he was filming.

“Hey, how did it go?” you ask as he places his water bottle to the vanity and then sits in the chair he spends his mornings in while his hair is being styled and tattoos are covered.

“Good. Messed up only a few times. Whacha’ working on?”

“Just your schedule, I’ll email it to you when I’m done, though you never check it.”

“Hey, I do check it! I like your color coding. I just suck at using it and you’re always here to remind me of the important stuff.”

You roll your eyes, continuing to type away on your keyboard as he moves around, having a snack and texting back people.

“Florence is coming over for a little after we’re done. We can order something,” he speaks up grabbing your attention again.

“Cool,” you nod with a small smile. “Is she staying the night?”

“No, we just thought it would be nice to hang out a little without dressed like this,” he chuckles looking down at himself.

“What’s wrong with Jack’s clothes? You look neat.”

“Do I?” he cocks an eyebrow cheekily, placing his hands to his hips as he looks down at you.

“Yeah. It’s a nice change after all the grandpa clothes,” you tease him and he gasps pretending to be offended at your words, though you both know you have nothing against his style. In fact, you love how he just wears whatever he wants, not caring what others would think.

“Watch your mouth or you can’t wear my bode jacket again,” he warns you holding up his pointing finger, shaking it at you, but you just chuckle at him, finishing up what you’ve been working on before shutting the laptop down.

“How long until you’re done?”

“Just a few more scenes. I think we can leave in about two hours.”

“Alright.”

“You done working?”

“Mhm, for now.”

“Come and watch the filming. You’re always so hidden in here.”

“Because I always have work to do,” you point out, putting the laptop to the side from your lap.

“Yeah, but you’re done now, so come out and watch me be the next Leonardo DiCaprio,” he smugly tells you, and it makes you roll your eyes at him.

“You’re so humble, H. Is something that comes with the age?” you tease him standing up from the small sofa, grabbing your phone from the table.

“You’ll find out in a year,” he smirks back as you follow him out of the trailer, back to the set.

Later that day you, Florence and Harry are chilling back at your apartment, munching on the pizza you ordered, watching some documentary on Netflix, just enjoying a lazy evening. You’ve become quite close with Florence, her personality is a lot like yours so you got along well from the beginning, the three of you often do things together outside of set.

You and Harry are sharing the couch while Florence is curled up on the loveseat. The temperature at the apartment is always nice, but you often catch yourself feeling a little cold in the evening, but it has more to do with the tiredness rather than with the heating of the place. When you pull your legs underneath you to warm your feet, Harry notices the action and knows right away that you’re starting to feel cold as always. Reaching down he grabs a blanket from the basket next to the couch and he wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer to him.

“Come ‘ere,” he mumbles, draping the blanket over the two of you. You shuffle closer to him, making yourself comfortable at his side as he makes sure you’re fully tugged in. Then he leaves an arm around you, his fingers gently grazing your shoulder as he turns his attention back at the movie.

Glancing over at Florence you see the puzzled look on her, but you ignore it biting into your bottom lip, turning back to watch the movie though you’re having a hard time focusing. All you can think about is Harry’s touch on you.

It’s almost midnight when Florence calls herself a taxi. Harry picks up the glasses you used and volunteers to wash them, leaving you and Florence alone in the living room.

“So, what’s up with you and Harry?” she questions right away without beating around the bush.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you two has always been close, but now… it seems all too… couple-like.” She narrows her eyes at you, hands on her hips, looking like a mother questioning her daughter.

“Don’t be silly.”

“I’m not,” she scoffs. Then you pretend to be busy with folding the blanket, but you can feel her intent stare on you before she speaks up again. “You like him, don’t you?”

“What?” you huff with a not too Oscar-worthy expression on your face that was supposed to hide the panic in you. “Well of course I like him, he is my friend and boss.”

“But not just like that. You like like him.”

“Florence,” you sigh, just when Harry walks out of the kitchen, oblivious to the conversation that he just interrupted.

“You sure you don’t want to spend the night?” he politely asks her, but she just shakes her head.

“I’m not really up for spending the night on the couch.”

“You wouldn’t have to, you can sleep in my bed,” he simply offers and something is telling you he shouldn’t open his mouth again.

“You’re not taking the couch because of me.”

“I wouldn’t, I usually sleep at Y/N’s,” he states as if it was nothing, but you instantly freeze.

Yes, ever since his birthday he has spent way more nights in your bed than in his own, always raving to you how well he can sleep when you’re next to him and you couldn’t bear the thought of him feeling lonely, so you’ve been letting him occupy half of your bed through the nights. He usually holds your hand falling asleep and then you wake up tangled together, sometimes he is cuddling you from behind, other times you’re the one curled up to his side. He treats it so casually, like it really is nothing, he just always goes on his day when you wake up so you decided to not make it into a big deal either.

Florence gives you a wide eyed look that you try hard to ignore, while Harry is so oblivious to what he just caused with his statement.

“I uhh—thanks but I’m fine going home. Besides, I think my car is already here. See you guys on set tomorrow. Y/N?” she calls out walking towards the front door.

“Hm?”

“We’ll talk later,” she tells you and it’s a strong message that she won’t just leave it at that.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” you nod awkwardly, waving her goodbye.

You and Harry clean up together and as always, he is the first one to use the bathroom and by the time you’re done, he is in your bed, waiting for you to join him. You don’t comment on his presence anymore, part of you afraid he would stop spending the night in your bed and you definitely don’t want that. Not much is left from filming, meaning that soon you are forced to go home where you and Harry do not live at the same place so you’re gonna have to sleep alone, like you did before. Only now you are way too hooked on the feeling of having him in your bed, even if it’s not in the way you truly want, it’s better than nothing.

The moment you get under the sheets, Harry reaches out and pulls you to his side. He hasn’t done this often when you went to sleep, only sneaking some small touches, but you don’t mind him being a little extra clingy.

“Filming is almost over,” you mumble into his chest, your hand lazily resting where his ribcage ends in his chest.

“Mhm.” There’s a short silence before he speaks up again. “What about it, Angel?”

“It’s just that it’s going to be weird going home. I got used to living here.” It’s your way saying that you’re gonna miss having him around all the time, but you’re not sure if he understands the hint. It doesn’t really matter anyway.

“You like cramped together with me?” he chuckles lowly.

“Was kinda nice,” you smile.

“Remember how you threatened me to throw my shit out if I leave my dirty clothes on the floor?”

“I do,” you smirk, thinking back to the conversation where you agreed to live with him while he is filming. “Didn’t find any clothes on the floor, so you get an A for that.”

“Wow, was this… a compliment?”

“Shut up, I always compliment you!” you laugh smacking his chest gently.

“Oh, no. You don’t compliment, you just tell me when I managed not to fuck something up,” he corrects you and your cheeks are heating up about how well he knows you.

“Those are compliments in my book, don’t be greedy.”

“M’not. I love how grounded you keep me with treating me like this.”

“Like what?” you ask furrowing your eyebrows.

“Like a normal person. With you, I don’t have to be afraid that I earn something because of who I am. You give no shit about my name, you always keep me in check and I appreciate that.”

“Can’t let you have a too big of a head,” you smirk, closing your eyes. He laughs with you, squeezing you a little before you both fall into silence, drifting off to sleep in each other’s arms.

You’ve managed to avoid Florence in the past few days. Her burning look has been making you way too nervous, you know she wants to know more about what’s going on between you and Harry, but truth to be told, you have no idea what to tell her.

Yeah, I’m definitely in love with him and we’ve been sharing a bed for a few weeks because he feels lonely alone at night, so he uses me to ease the feeling while I just let him because as I said, I’m in love with the man.

No, you can’t tell her that.

Now there’s only two days left from filming, meaning that only two more nights to spend with Harry and it’s making you a nervous wreck to think about sleeping alone in your bedroom.

You round the corner in the maze of the trailers after a phone call you had with Jeff when you run out of luck and bump right into Florence.

“I’ve been looking for you, Y/N. Come have lunch with me in my trailer,” she smiles sweetly, grabbing you by your hand so you can’t escape her this time.

“Oh I wanted to call—“

“Do it later,” she simply cuts you off.

Soon, you find yourself in her trailer as she eats her burger while she eyes you with suspicion.

“So, you and Harry sleep together?”

“Well, not like that. We really just sleep in the same bed.”

“Oh, makes perfect sense, sleeping in the same bed as your boss. Very casual.”

“Don’t make it sound so weird,” you frown at her words. You definitely don’t see Harry as your boss. You do work for him, but it never felt like he stands anywhere above you, the two of you have always been equal even before you became close friends.

“You gotta admit it’s pretty unusual,” she points out and you just look away from her. “So let’s talk about how you’re in love with him.”

“What? I never said that!” you protest, but she just gives you a look that says ‘cut the crap, girl’ and you know there’s no use to try to trick her, she sees right through you. “Don’t fucking look at me like that, I have enough shit on my plate without your judgment.”

“Oh, I’m not judging you. I’m just wondering why you two are not together already.”

You practically snort at her statement, finding it quite absurd and ridiculous.

“What? You two are perfect for each other and I’m pretty sure Harry loves you too.”

“Yeah, as a friend.”

“That’s not how friends act, Y/N. He wouldn’t beg himself into your bed every night if he was just your friend.”

“He is just lonely. He doesn’t need me, just someone to be with him.”

“That’s bullshit,” she scoffs. “You two are just being idiots.” Just as you are about to answer, your phone starts ringing. Harry’s smiley face appears on the screen, making you extremely nervous because of the conversation you are having with Florence.

“Hey,” you breathe out answering the call.

“Hey, where are you?”

“Just, talking with Florence. What’s up?”

“I got an email from Jeff and I have some questions.”

“I’ll be there in a sec.”

“Thank you Angel,” he hums before ending the call.

“I gotta go. Please don’t… bring any of this up for Harry,” you ask Florence, heading to the exit.

“You’ve gotta sort your shit out. This is not ideal, Y/N.”

“I know it,” you growl under your breath, leaving the trailer. You chew on your bottom lip nervously as you march back to Harry’s trailer. You feel so confused and anxious about this whole situation and the worst thing is that you have no idea what to do about it. Telling him how you feel seems like a stupid idea, but mostly because you’re terrified of rejection. What if it all meant nothing to him? If you were right and he is just lonely and uses you to help himself, it has nothing to do with you. You wouldn’t survive the heartbreak it would give you if he told you he doesn’t see you more than just a friend.

As you walk into his trailer he is sitting on the sofa with his phone in his hands. He glances up at you, a warm smile tugging on his lips as you take a deep breath, feeling very much out of place suddenly. Unfortunately, he immediately senses your discomfort.

“Everything alright, Angel?”

Angel. This nickname could make your knees go weak in a heartbeat and you hate how much effect it has on you. Especially in this state of mind you’re currently in.

“I just…” You shake your head shutting your eyes. “Why do you keep calling me that?” you ask, sounding way more desperate than you intended to. Harry puts his phone aside, looking a little puzzled at your sudden weird act, but he seems more worried for you.

“I, uhh—“

“And don’t tell me it’s because Hey Angel is about me. We didn’t know each other back then.”

You have no idea where this is coming from or why you even questioned him about it all of a sudden, but Florence just totally threw you off with what she just said. Harry stares back at you, probably vigorously looking for the reason why you are acting up now, but luckily, he doesn’t try to turn it into a joke as always.

“I call you Angel, because you remind me of the song. It wasn’t written about you, but the lyrics match up with… you.”

“What?” you ask in confusion.

“I wish I could be more like you, do you wish you could be more like me?” he quotes the song, not singing the words, simply just talking them as he stares back at you. “I see you at the bar, at the edge of my bed, backseat of my car, in the back of my head,” he continues and you feel your throat doing dry just from the way he softly speaks, standing only a few feet away from you. “I come alive when I hear your voice, it’s a beautiful sound, it’s a beautiful noise.”

You never really gave it another thought, but now that he has told you this, it hit you hard in the chest. You weren’t expecting, especially because those lines are rather meaningful, to you at least.

“I thought of it once not long after we first met and thought calling you Angel would suit you. Do you mind it? I can just… stop calling you that if you don’t like it.”

You shake your head. You never want him to stop calling you that even if it’s not that meaningful for him. If it’s just some game. It’s great to know that something reminded him of you.

“No, it’s… it’s alright.” Your voice is small, barely more than just a whisper. It’s a little too much at once. Florence’s words are still stuck in your head, and what he just said has felt like he just gripped your heart even if he doesn’t know.

You take a shaky breath, forcing yourself to come back from this hazy state of mind.

“So, what about that email?”

“You alright?” Reaching forward he takes your hand and you try not to flinch at his touch, just smile at him nodding.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” He squeezes your hand before dropping it and he luckily doesn’t ask any more questions.

You stay oddly quiet for the rest of the day and Harry surely knows something is wrong, but he respects you enough not to bug you about it any longer. He just stays close to you as much as he can, trying his best to take your mind off of whatever keeps you occupied.

On the way home you and Harry drop by a supermarket, buy some quick dinner, not wanting to stack the fridge when you’re leaving so soon. Then you sit in the living room, eating and watching some random movie that’s on TV. You snuggle to his side on the couch naturally, he doesn’t even have to pull you close this time. The thought of having left only one more night in the apartment makes you want to sue every little moment you have left in this bubble.

Harry makes you have a shower first tonight and when you come out from the bathroom, your bed is already nicely made, inviting you warmly. He is quick to finish with his shower and joins you in bed barely five minutes later. You move towards each other instantly, his arms curling around your form soothingly as you make yourself comfortable, melted into his embrace. You feel his lips pressing against your forehead and you almost start crying at the small action.

“Angel, I don’t know what has upset you, but I’m here for you, alright? You’re not alone,” he murmurs softly.

“I know,” you whisper. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. I would do anything for you, just like you do so much for me. You’ve got me.”

I wish, you think to yourself. You have him, but not the way you’ve been desiring. His hand moves to cup your face as he lifts your head so you are looking into his eyes in the darkened room, but there’s enough light coming through the window that you see his features. He runs his thumb across your cheek, gently caressing your skin and everywhere he touches you, it feels like your body is in flames. This something has been building up inside you and now you’re not sure how long you’ll be able to control yourself. And just as you think about how you really should put some distance between the two of you so you won’t regret it later, the unexpected happens.

Harry pulls you up just enough so when he moves his head he is able to place his lips on yours, kissing you out of the blue. His lips feel so soft, so fitting on your mouth, you let out a whimper when he goes further than just a gentle kiss, taking your bottom lip between his properly. It’s an out of world experience, you’ve imagined it so many times, but you never thought it would actually happen and now that it is very much happening, your whole mind goes blank and for a split second… everything feels right. You kiss him back with fever and with each passing moment the kiss grows more passionate and way hungrier than how it started. Harry’s arm tightens around you, almost pulling you on top of him and you can’t make yourself stop, not that you want to.

With a little force, Harry pushes the two of you around so now you’re lying on the mattress and he holds himself up above you, his lips never disconnecting from yours. He licks into your mouth, pulling and tugging on your lips, making your whole body go weak just for him.

But then, as if reality hit you in the head, you realize what’s happening.

“Harry,” you gasp pulling back, gasping for air. “This—We…”

“Angel, let me take care of you. Please,” he begs out of breath.

“What…”

“I want to make you feel good. I want to take care of you, please let me.” He sounds so desperate, like he would do anything for this and you are not strong enough to deny it from him.

It’s just his pity. He’s been using you for his needs, now he wants to give some back, it’s nothing more, you think to yourself. It can’t be more.

You lack the willpower to make a rational decision, so as you stare up into his eyes that appear so dark due to the lack of proper lighting, you just nod before he leans down and kisses you again.

He holds himself up on one arm while his free hand wanders down your body, touching you at places you have never felt him before. He palms your left breast, squeezing it gently and it makes you moan into his mouth before his hand moves down the curve of your waist until it reaches your sleeping shorts. Your body is burning for him and you can’t stop it from reacting to everything he does. You buckle your hips up when you feel his fingers gently graze along your pubic bone, even though you’re still fully clothed.

“What do you want me to do, Angel? I’ll do anything you want me to,” he pants between kisses as his hand moves to cup your heated core, making you moan again from the sensation of his touch there.

“I need you,” is all you manage to get out.

“I’m right here. You got me. What do you want me to do? Please, tell me, Angel,” he whines, forehead pressed against yours and his hips fall, pressing against your thigh, making you realize how excited he has gotten. His erection is hard under the fabric of his boxers, almost aching to be freed. There’s no way you can take any teasing or a long foreplay. You need him inside you now before you burst.

“Harry, I need you inside me. Please,” you whimper, almost cry, before he kisses you again, hard and demanding as he simply pushes your shorts down, revealing your naked sex since you don’t wear any underwear to bed. You grab the waistband of his boxers too and push it down until he can wiggle his legs out of them, leaving him completely naked in your bed while you still have a top covering your upper body, however he is quick to change that. He grabs the hem and starts pulling it off, your hands helping him so a few moments later you’re completely naked underneath him.

“Fuck, Angel,” he breathes out, his perfect, pink lips attacking the side of your throat, kissing and nibbling on the skin, going down to your breasts, giving the same amount of attention to both while you turn into jelly under his touch. lacing your fingers through his hair you cry out his name as you can feel him leaving a mark on your left breast, his tongue swirling against the spot he just completely destroyed before he brings himself back up so he can kiss you again and again with so much hunger, it’s hard to tell where you end and where he starts. Everything melts together and you’re such a mess in every possible way.

His hand gently reaches down between your legs and parts your shaking thighs before he cups you drenched pussy, his middle finger sliding between your folds, a shameless moan slipping from your mouth, right into his as your lips are still attached.

“So wet, I can’t wait to make you feel good, baby. Let me make you feel good.”

“Harry, just… please,” you pant, surely feeling yourself lose the last bits of your nerves.

“D’you have a condom?” he asks, head lifting up a bit so he can look into your eyes.

“I-In my, um, the makeup bag,” you try to explain gesturing towards your dresser where your makeup bag sits on top, two condoms somewhere inside it. Harry pecks your lips before pulling away from you, the lack of his weight on top of you making you shiver.

He digs into the bag until he finds what he’s been looking for, tearing the packaging open with his teeth and he rolls it on while he walks back, not wasting another moment. You cling onto him like a koala bear once he is back in bed, his massive body covering you again.

“Just tell me how you like it, I’ll do anything,” he mumbles against your shivering lips as he pushes the head in first, stopping for a second before the rest of his cock buries inside you, completely taking your breath away. He is bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with, filling up every inch of you, your walls stretching around him as he stills once he is all the way inside you.

This is it. This is the moment you’ve imagined oh so many times, feeling him the closest possible, his cock buried inside you, his cheek pressed against yours as he holds himself up on top of you. Years of yearning and endless nights when you imagined your hand was his… and now it’s your reality. And though you know it’s gonna change everything, you can’t tell yourself to stop.

Harry lifts his head, pecking your lips gently, calling you Angel over and over again as he starts moving, the friction between your legs growing with each thrust. He fits inside you so well, you won’t be able to enjoy sex with anyone else now that you’ve experienced it with Harry. All of a sudden, he has become the epitome of your whole life.

“Tell me what you want, Angel. Do you want me to go slow or fast? Tell me how to make you feel good.” His lips brush against yours with each word while you’re just trying to catch your breath, fingers digging into his back, the euphoria building up inside you gradually.

“A little faster,” you breathe out, speaking feels like a hard task at the moment. Harry picks his pace up, finding just the right rhythm that makes you wrap your legs around his waist so he can go even deeper with each thrust he makes.

“Look at me, Angel. Let me see your eyes,” he begs, his hand cupping your cheek. He runs his thumb along the line of your lower lip before he takes it between his lips, tugging on it gently, kissing you like you’re his last breath on Earth. He is devouring you, body melts together with yours, all your senses are strictly focused on him. He is all you see, hear, feel and taste.

Your gaze meets his and the way he looks at you, like you’re his whole entire world, it makes your eyes tear up. You want it to be true, you want it to be reality, you want it to be more than just about needs and satisfaction, but it’s not and your consciousness is not letting you believe otherwise.

“Oh Angel,” he softly hums, wiping away a tear that escaped the corner of your eye and ran down the side of your face. Keeping up his rhythm he kisses along your jawline, your cheek, your lips, the side of your face, the bridge of your nose, everywhere he can before returning to your lips with a hungry, passion filled kiss.

“Harry…” you whimper, holding your thighs tighter around his waist as you feel yourself nearing the edge.

“Let it go for me, Angel. I wanna see you feel good, cum for me,” he tells you, eyes never leaving yours as you are ready to burst underneath him.

“Harry, I-I need you!” The words fall from your lips as a desperate beg, arms wrapping around his torso tight, as if he could disappear from your embrace any moment.

“I’m right here, Angel. Right here,” he soothes you, kissing your lips sweetly as proof that he is not just a trick your mind is playing on you. “Are you close, baby? Are you gonna cum for me?”

“Yes! Yes!” you pant, losing control over your body and all your senses. It’s gonna be intense, you can tell and it hasn’t even started yet, you just know it’ll shake you to the core.

“Good girl. Let me make you feel good.” “So good,” you breathe out before Harry occupies your lips with his once again.

It doesn’t take long. He keeps thrusting in the perfect angle and it throws you right over the edge. Harry demands you look him in the eyes when your orgasm wash you over and the intensity of it all almost makes you cry again. You burst, lose yourself under him, screaming his name as if you were praying to all higher forces. In a way, you are, because for a moment you really think you completely vanish from this world.

Harry follows you just a few more thrusts later, falling out of his rhythm as he grunts and moans your name, face buried into the crook of your neck while you tug on his hair, the feeling of his soft locks between your fingers is like pure heaven.

He stills, but stays inside you as he looks up, his eyes filled with satisfaction and contentment as he cups your face again, kissing you long, taking his time with you.

As you come off your high and the clouds of euphoria clears off, reality sets in more painfully than ever. Your limbs are paralyzed and you feel like you are outside your own body, just watching everything happen as if you were a third person in the room. Harry rolls to the side, chest heaving wildly as he is trying to regulate himself. Once he is able to breathe without panting, he pecks your shoulder gently and makes a quick round to the bathroom. You hear water running and then his feet padding on the floor, but you can’t bring yourself to move, you just lie there, completely drained out. It doesn’t change even when Harry gently cleans you off with a damp washing cloth, throwing it to the side to take care of it in the morning. He pulls the covers over the two of you and scoops you into his arms. You manage to bring your arm up to his chest as your head rests on his shoulder. His fingers are dancing up and down your arm, his steady breathing keeping your overcrowded head grounded. And then… he starts singing so softly, it’s almost just a whisper.

“Hey Angel, oh, I wish I could be more like you. Do you wish you could be more like me?”

Your eyes shut close, the damn tears flooding again, but you keep your sobs drowned in your throat. Instead you force yourself to sleep and hope you live to see the morning, because you feel like your heart is about to give up on you.

When you wake up, you genuinely feel like you’ve drunk through last night and now have the worst hangover. It’s like you’ve been hit on the head with a chair. You slowly come to your senses and realize that you’re completely naked in bed and there’s a body curled to your side, equally naked.

The shock sets in first because you realize, once again, that what happened last night wasn’t just a fever dream, it actually happened. And then you basically jump out of bed when you look at the small digital clock on the bedside and see that the two of you have ten minutes to leave if you don’t want to be late to the last day of filming.

“Harry! Harry get up!” you smack him, kicking the covers off and grabbing your top and shorts from the floor, quickly putting them on. The man in talk growls, just rolling to his back without even opening his eyes. “Harry damn it! We have ten minutes or you’ll be late!” you snap at him and it somewhat wakes him up. With furrowed eyebrows at puckered lips, he lifts his head up and looks around.

Those lips were kissing you last night.

“What?” he mumbles in confusion.

“We overslept, get up. We have… eight minutes left.”

“Shit,” he mumbles under his breath, finally getting out of bed, reaching for his boxers.

It’s a shitshow as the two of you try to get ready on time and though you are running just a few minutes late, the driver of the taxi manages to speed down the streets fast enough that you arrive to set just in time.

During the whole ride, you feel Harry’s burning eyes on you, but thank God, you get a call from Jeffrey the moment you get into the car and it lasts the whole ride so you don’t have to talk with him about what happened last night.

“Y/N,” he tries when you’re still on the phone and he is already done with hair and makeup, heading to set to start filming.

“What?” you mouth at him.

“Can we talk later?”

“I’m busy. Go, I’m sure they are waiting for you,” you whisper to him and he looks so disappointed, but he nods and walks away. Your heart breaks as you lower the phone. You have been out of the call for some time, just didn’t want to talk to him.

Quite frankly, you’re not ready to talk to him about what happened last night. You don’t want to hear him say that he was just trying to help you out last night, that it wasn’t anything serious, just some messing around. It was just two people trying not to feel lonely.

Walking back into his trailer you can feel your chest tightening, a sharp pain shooting right into your heart the more you think about him. It was a mistake, you shouldn’t have done it because you are the one with the feelings and now you are the one struggling with the consequences of your little get together.

The more you think about it, the worse it gets and you feel like you’re about to suffocate. You need to get out of here, there’s no way you can face him now.

It all happens so fast. Before you can even second guess your decision, you’re on your way back to the apartment to pack all your stuff and get on the first flight back home. You need to put distance between you and him, spending one more night in the same apartment would make you go nuts. So while Harry is filming, completely oblivious to what you’re doing, you pack up your room as fast as possible and head to the airport to hop on the plane that leaves at four pm.

With a racing heart you check all your baggage in and make it through security when Harry first calls you. At first, you want to ignore it, but then you find yourself swiping your thumb across the screen.

“Hey,” you shortly greet him.

“Hey, where are you? Have been looking for you everywhere.” “I um… I’m at the airport,” you answer and the silence on the other end is deafening for a moment.

“You are at the what?” he then snaps.

“I had a, um, kind of emergency, so I’m heading back home now. Sorry, I would have called you, but didn’t know when you’d be off set.”

“You fucking packed and left already? You’re really at the airport?” He is fuming, Raging. You can tell he is pacing in the trailer, vigorously running his fingers through his hair, ruining it without a care. You almost feel guilty, but then again, you just know facing him now would break you. You’ll get back to him when you’ve pulled your shit together.

“I am, calm down, alright? Not a big deal.” “You just left on our last day here without a fucking word! And when am I seeing you again?”

“I, uhh—I need to be home for a while, but you’ll be fine. I’ll stay in touch with you in email and text.”

“Fucking text? Email?” he is barking now. Good thing you are not there because it would be a disaster. “Y/N, you can’t be serious. We-we were supposed to talk. You can’t just fucking disappear like this.”

“We’ll talk, alright?”

“When?”

“Later,” you simply tell him at a loss for a better answer. Hopefully, never, you think to yourself, but don’t say it out loud.

“Okay, you’re not doing this. Don’t you dare get on a plane, I’m going to the airport right now. You’re not leaving.”

“Well, I am and you’re not coming here,” you clap back, but you can already hear him moving around, probably gathering his stuff so he can leave right away.

“Swear to God if you get on that plane, I’m—“ He cuts himself off, no idea what to really say and you just sigh, closing your eyes. People rush by you and as you glance at the big screen you see that your plane is boarding.

“Harry, just… it’ll be better like this, alright? You’ll be fine, I’ll see you… when I see you. Have fun on your last day on set.”

You end the call before he could get another word out and put it on airplane mode right away as you grab your backpack and head to your gate.

Using your time on the plane wisely, you put together a very detailed schedule for Harry so he knows everything about his next few weeks and you can minimize your contact with him. You even set up a bunch of reminders in his calendar so he won’t miss his appointments.

When you set feet on the ground again, you expect the distance between you and Harry to feel comforting and freeing, but it’s the opposite. An ache in your chest is getting heavier as you get yourself a taxi and head home, feeling more alone than ever in your life.

Your home doesn’t feel like a home. Not without that one person who could make any place your home, but you can’t see him right now, not until you learn how to exist around him without the urge to faint.

Going to bed alone is pure torture. Every moment you are waiting to hear Harry shuffling around in the apartment, you miss his little snorts when he is watching the TV, his singing coming from the shower, but most importantly, you miss having him so close to you in bed. Now that you’re lying on your own, your bed feels so cold, it brings you tears as reality sets in. You miss him. You miss him more than anything and you can’t imagine a time when it won’t hurt anymore.

The crying pushes you into a shallow slumber sometime in the middle of the night, however, you’re rudely shaken back to consciousness when you hear someone banging on your door like crazy, pushing the doorbell constantly.

“Jesus fuck,” you mumble with a grimace, pulling a hoodie on as you make your way to the door hazily, probably still half asleep because you open the door without checking who it is through the peephole and you end up staring up at none other than Harry. “What the—What are you doing here?” you breathe out, panic sets in fast and your hands start shaking at the sight of him.

Harry steps inside without invitation and closes the door behind him, a stern expression on his handsome face.

“Y/N, what the fuck were you thinking when you left like that?”

“I-I told you, it was an emergency.”

“What kind of emergency? Because I called your mom and sisters, they all said nothing happened in the family, so what could possibly happen that needed you here immediately?”

“I don’t have to explain shit to you.” Shaking your head you try to step back to put some distance between the two of you, but he doesn’t let you, taking a step forward at the same time.

“Well I think we have a lot to talk about after last night, don’t you think?”

“I don’t want to talk,” you shake your head biting into your bottom lip. This wasn’t supposed to happen, why couldn’t he just stay where he was? “How did you even get here so fast?”

“Left as soon as we wrapped.”

“Where are all your stuff?”

“Left everything there, I’ll just go back and pack it up, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that for a girl who genuinely hates any form of working out, you ran pretty fast from you today.”

Any other day you would have laughed at his comparison, but not today. You just stand there, chewing on the inside of your cheeks as you try to figure out what to do or say. You were not ready to face him so soon.

“What do you want me to say?” you ask desperately, throwing your hands into the air.

“Tell me what it meant for you,” he calmly answers and you want to shake him. How is he so peaceful?

“No,” you shake your head. “I’m not doing this to myself, okay? I need time, Harry.”

“For what?”

“So I can get myself over this, alright? I need time, I—fuck this,” you growl, feeling the tears flooding your eyes again. Damn it!

“Why the fuck do you want to get yourself over it?”

“Because it obviously didn’t mean the same thing to me as it meant to you!” you snap at him and he raises his eyebrows at you in a way that tells you “you’re stupid”.

“What do you think it meant to me?”

“Probably nothing,” you scoff rolling your eyes, but the anger that bursts from him quickly washes your attitude away.

“Fucking nothing? You think I would get on a fucking plane first thing after filming for ten hours straight just to come after you? You think I spent all my nights with you these past weeks because you mean nothing to me? You know, for a smart girl, you can be pretty dumb sometimes.”

You blink at him in utter confusion, his words knocked you off your feet. He exhales sharply, long fingers running through his messy curls as he tries his best to calm himself down. When he is finally breathing somewhat normally his wildly vibrant green eyes meet your widened stare.

“Y/N, I thought we were on the same page. What did you think it was all about?” he softly asks, seeing how shook you still are.

“I, uhh—I thought this was all just some kind of distraction. You said you were feeling lonely, I thought you were just… kind of using me. And then last night was you returning the favor.”

“Hell no,” he breathes out shaking his head as he steps closer and this time you don’t back away from him. You let his hands run down your arms until they find your hands. “I thought this was clear, but I’m gonna say it then. I’m in love with you, Y/N, have been for a long time, I was just being a pussy and didn’t know how you’d take it. But then, when you didn’t kick me out of your bed the first night we slept together, it got me hoping and it was all heading just the right direction. Then last night happened and I was so damn sure this would be our turning point but then…” He breathes out shakily again, as if the thought still upsets him. “When I called you and you said you were at the airport… I love you, Angel, but I was ready to murder you.”

You let out a faint chuckle, feeling the tears bubbling in your eyes.

“Why did you run away instead of talking to me? Did you not trust me?” he asks softly, a hand coming up to cup your jaw gently.

“I didn’t trust myself,” you admit weakly.

“Oh Angel…” Leaning down he kisses your forehead tenderly, his lips feel like soft feathers against your hot skin. “Do you need me to tell you again how in love I am with you or are you gonna believe me? You’re not planning to run away again, are you?” he teases you making you chuckle as you shake your head.

“I’m not gonna run away, but I would love to hear you say you love me again.”

“I love you. I love you so fucking much, Angel, don’t you ever think otherwise for a moment, okay?”

You nod, lips curling into your mouth as your teary eyes meet his green orbs.

“I love you too, Harry.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that,” he chuckles breathing out in relief and it makes you smile. “I would never just use you. Love you way too much for that, Angel. You are everything to me.”

“Wish I knew that earlier,” you mumble with a bitter chuckle. It would have saved you a lot of tears.

“I will never stop saying it to you.” His forehead rests against yours, noses touching as his arms curl around your frame, pulling you close to him until you’re pressed up against his hard chest. “Just out of curiosity, what were you thinking when I told you, you reminded me of Hey Angel? Because I think it pretty much gave me away, but apparently, I was wrong,” he chuckles lowly, pulling back a little so he can look you in the eyes.

“I honestly have no idea,” you admit with an awkward chuckle. “I just had a conversation with Florence before that where she called me out about my feelings for you and I was still kind of in shock. Probably took it as just your usual flirty behavior.”

“I’ll admit I do flirt some, but haven’t you realized it’s different with you?”

“I guess not.” “Angel, you are… something else,” he chuckles in disbelief before leaning down he finally presses his lips against yours. You giggle into his lips, arms wrapping around his neck as he lifts you up from the ground, twirling you around, a squeal slipping from your mouth.

“So, now you have to go back to pack your stuff?” you question, still wrapped into his arms completely and you don’t want to exist any other way. This is where you belong.

“Yeah. Had to chase down this Angel who thought she could run away from me.”

“So how are you planning to get to New York by four tomorrow when you’re still here and have to go back to pack? Have you checked the schedule I sent you? You’re not gonna make it.” You cock your head to the side with an arched brow.

“Did you just go back to full assistant mode right after we confessed our love for each other?”

“Someone has to be responsible and we both know it’s always me.”

“I’ll just hire someone to do it for me, I’ll leave to New York from here. Happy?” he grins at you as you nod.

“Very. Because this means you can stay the night here.”

“Seeing the fact that I literally have nowhere else to go, because even my house keys are in the suitcase I left back… I very much need to stay here for the night,” he points out.

“Good. Come on, my bed felt empty without you,” you giggle, pulling him towards your bedroom and he follows you eagerly.

“I can definitely help that.”

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles x pa!reader #harry styles x personalassistant!reader

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thebigbadbatswife · 3 years

Text

Tables Turned

Summary - Bruce has always been the more dominant one, especially in the bedroom. Tonight, however, it’s your turn

Warnings - 18+ content, minors dni, smut, roleplaying, oral (male receiving), light bondage, light dom/sub, femdom

Word Count - 3.2k

“Do you remember the safe word?” you asked as you double checked Bruce’s restraints. You made sure that they weren’t too tight, but still tight enough that he wasn’t going to escape them. Well, unless he wanted to break your headboard, again.

Considering how annoyed you had been when he’d broken it, you hoped that he would know better than to do so this time. You really didn’t want to have to replace another one.

“I won’t need it, but yes. I remember our safe word,” he replied. His voice was as smooth as ever, despite his current situation.

“Okay. Just making sure. I don’t want to end up hurting you.”

Bruce chuckled at that. “Unless you somehow have a vial of Venom, in your nightstand, I seriously doubt you’ll hurt me.”

You chuckled as well as you leaned in and kissed him. As you kissed you pushed your tongue into his mouth. If you were with anyone else right now, you probably would have made a joke about it, but this was Bruce you were talking about. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin the mood with a joke you knew he would take far too seriously. You smirked when you pulled away and he chased after your lips, but was stopped from going too far by his restraints.

You took a moment to appreciate Bruce’s gorgeous body. All spread out and naked on your bed, skin flushed and his cock already on it’s way to getting hard. Damn, he looked good like this.

The idea of having Bruce like this, tied up in your bed, completely at your mercy, had come to you shortly after he’d done something similar with you. He had always been the more dominant one, especially when it came to the bedroom. So you decided that you wanted to be the dominant one, for once. It was only fair that you got to switch it up every once in a while, after all.

You had been an absolute ball of nerves when you had first floated the idea to him. You’d been completely unsure of how he’d take it. Would he like the idea of being the submissive one for once? Or would he absolutely hate it? When you’d been mulling it over in your mind, you’d gotten the feeling that it would be the latter. So you were pleasantly surprised when he told you that he was up for it. He told you to just name the time and place and he would be there. Granted that there wasn’t a super villain currently tearing Gotham apart.

Tonight you had finally worked up the courage and sent him that text. Bruce had then arrived at your apartment a couple of hours later, in the batsuit of all things. Though, it had been fortunate that he had arrived in that suit of his because the rope that currently had him tied to your headboard had come from his utility belt.

You straddled his waist and hovered above him. You pressed a kiss to his lips before tracking them down his jaw and neck. You decided that you wanted to take this slow. Not only because it was new for you, but because you were going to take complete advantage of your swapped roles tonight.

Bruce was always worshipping your body. Always putting your pleasure before he dared to seek his own. He had always been more of a giver than a taker. You thought it truly was a shame that you so rarely got to return the favour.

You pressed a kiss to his collarbone before sucking a dark mark there. He inhaled sharply at the action. You pulled away and smoothed the mark over with your thumb, as your gaze drifted upwards and met Bruce’s.

Bruce’s blue eyes had always been striking. Even more so with the thick black makeup that surrounded them when he was going out for patrol. The makeup that he was still wearing right now. Even if you had his bougie makeup remover in your apartment, he caked it on so much that it would have taken forever to remove. Which would have certainly ruined the mood, so you had left it on.

Now that you had paused for a moment, you couldn’t help, but feel that something was missing. Something that would certainly make this whole thing more interesting.

“What is it?” Bruce asked. He had clearly seen the gears turning around in your head. You gently bit your lower lip while you quickly debated whether or not to voice what you had been thinking.

“How would you feel about wearing the cowl?”

Bruce smirked at you. “Have you always fantasized about having Batman tied up in your bed?”

“Maybe,” you replied as you hopped off of him to go and get the cowl, from the pile of armour that laid on the bedroom floor. As you picked it up, you made sure to give him a nice view of your ass. You knew it would drive him crazy since he couldn’t just grab you and fuck you, right then and there. Behind you, you heard him take a particularly heavy breath.

You came back to the bed and resumed your previous position. You took the cowl in both hands and lowered it down onto his head. You couldn’t explain it. There was just something about Bruce in his cowl that drove you mad. Especially like this.

“Perfect.”

You captured his lips in a heated kiss. He swiped his tongue against your bottom lip, seeking more, but you pulled away, denying his request. Bruce scowled at you. You laughed at him before shaking your head.

“Uh, uh, uh. I’m in charge, remember?” Other than a heavy sigh, he didn’t give you an answer. “I said, remember?” you repeated yourself. You wanted him to actually answer you.

“Yes, I remember,” he finally replied.

You smiled. “Good.”

You trailed kisses down his body, slowly getting closer and closer to his hardening cock. You took one of his nipples into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around it before gently taking it between your teeth and bit it. He groaned at the sensation. You let go of it, trailed kisses towards his other and repeated your actions. Which earned you another groan. Okay, so Bruce liked it when his nipples were played with. You would have to remember that.

As you travelled down his body, you pressed kisses to each and every one of his scars. Making sure that none of them were left alone. The scars that littered Bruce’s body made your heart ache. To think that so many of them came from injuries that could have easily taken him from you. Sometimes you hated what he had to do, but you would never ask him to stop. You knew just how much it all meant to him.

You pushed those thoughts away, not wanting to depress yourself while you were trying to get him off. You continued to lavish his scars with attention. After kissing the length of a particularly nasty looking one on his hip, you sucked a hickey on to the unblemished skin above it. Bruce quietly moaned at the action, and had you not been paying close attention you would have missed how his hips bucked ever so slightly. You soothed it with your tongue before pulling away and admired the darkening mark.

“Fuck, you look so good like this,” you told him as you looked up, your eyes meeting his. His eyes were darkened with lust and he was panting slightly. A glance down and you could see that his cock was now fully hard and already leaking precum. You settled yourself between his legs. You cocked your head and bit your lower lip; an idea coming to you.

“Have you been a good bat?” you asked in your most sultriest tone. He hesitated for a moment before he nodded. You decided that wasn’t good enough. You shook your head. “Nuh, uh, uh. I want to hear you say it.”

He looked at you for a moment. Seemingly surprised at how far you were willing to take this. Honestly, you were surprised at your sudden burst of confidence as well. Especially considering how nervous you had been when you had asked this of him.

“Yes. Yes I’ve been good,” he finally said. You decided that it wasn’t good enough either. You wanted him to beg you to touch him.

“Are you sure you’ve been good? That you’re deserving of my touch?” You ran your hands up and down his thighs. Each time getting closer and closer to his cock, that was just aching to be touched, but never actually touching it. You could see the frustration slowly beginning to build in him. The clenched jaw, the slight straining against his restraints, the way he was looking at you. Now he was starting to see how you felt when he had you tied up and refused to touch you.

You could almost see the internal battle he was having within himself. Did he be defiant and refuse? See what you might potentially do if he did or did he just give in? Give you what you wanted so you would finally touch him? You didn’t have to wait too long before finding out which part of him won out.

“For fuck… Yes! Yes I’ve been a good bat!” he finally said as he gave in to his desperation; which was more than evident in his voice. You had never heard him like this before. Never seen him like this before and, damn, if you weren’t wet already. You definitely liked this side of him and you wouldn’t mind seeing more of it in the future.

“That’s more like it,” you said before grasping his cock. You stroked it a couple of times, enjoying the way he gasped, before you took the head into your mouth and swirled your tongue around it. A deep, guttural, moan vibrated through him, as you finally gave him what he wanted. As you sucked on the tip, your hands massaging what wasn’t in your mouth, you looked up at him. His eyes were glued on you as you sucked him off. You could see Bruce straining against his restraints even more now. No doubt wanting to make you take him deeper.

Whether or not his hands were on you, you would take him deeper down your throat, but not just yet. He was going to have to wait a little for that. You pulled away with a loud ‘pop’. You then took his balls into your mouth and began to massage them with your lips and tongue. His breath was coming out in short pants and every now and then a soft moan left him.

You let go of his balls and licked the underside of his cock, from his balls right back up to his tip. You tongued his slit, lapping up the precum while your hand massaged his balls. Bruce’s hips bucked at the sensation, almost forcing himself back into your mouth.

You released him, pulled away and shook your head. “Uh, uh, uh! No bucking or I’ll stop!” you told him. Bruce huffed and glared at you. From the look in his eyes, you were starting to get the feeling he was beginning to regret giving up control to you. “And you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

“No, I don’t,” he breathed.

“Then behave.”

You took him back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks, and took him deep into your throat. He was so far down your throat that you were able to lick his balls. You could feel his cock twitching as you continued to massage his balls. A tell-tale sign that you recognised, so you doubled up on your efforts. It didn’t take much longer for Bruce to cum. He came with a cry, your name tumbling from his lips as he fired his load down your throat. You quickly swallowed his release and pulled away, licking your lips.

You didn’t stop there, though. As you waited for Bruce to come down from his high, you muttered words of praise and pressed kisses to his skin. You also decided to leave a couple of hickeys on the inside of his thighs.

Once he had come down from his high, you began to gently stroke him again.

“Is this okay?” you asked, being mindful of how sensitive he might be after his recent orgasm.

“Yeah, yeah. Keep going,” he replied, still sounding a little bit out of breath.

“Okay. Just make sure you tell me if it gets too much.”

“Of course.”

You slowly stroked him and pressed kisses to the shaft of his cock and his tip. Soon enough he was hard again. You wrapped your mouth around his length. A moan worked its way up your throat as you bobbed up and down his cock. The vibration from your moan pulled something between a moan and a groan from him.

You looked up at him. His eyes were no longer on you. Instead his head was resting against the pillow, his eyes were closed and his mouth was partially opened, while he panted.

Bruce moaned softly. Other than the occasional groan and grunt, he had never been particularly vocal during sex. It was just the type of person he was and you knew how much he enjoyed hearing you moan his name. So hearing him being much more vocal now was definitely a treat for you. You were sure to savour each and every sound he made.

As you brought him toward his next orgasm, the heat pooling between your legs was becoming harder to ignore. You squeezed and rubbed your thighs together to try and relieve the pressure just a little bit, while you kept your focus on him.

Bruce’s cock twitched and you pulled back. Your mouth encircled the head of his cock and he moaned your name as he came again. You swallowed his release once again and pulled away, licking his slit to make sure you got every last drop.

He was breathing hard as you moved back up his body, leaving more hickeys across his body in your wake. You really hoped he didn’t have any shirtless photoshoots in his schedule anytime soon.

You kissed him and worked his mouth open with your tongue, allowing him to taste himself. Despite the taste, Bruce kissed you back eagerly.

“Do you feel that?” you asked him as you rolled your hips, so that he could feel your dripping pussy against his penis. He groaned at the feeling. “How wet you make me, Batman?” you said, continuing your little roleplay from earlier.

You grinded against him, a breathy moan leaving you as your neglected pussy finally got some attention. You could feel him starting to harden beneath you again as you moved. Bruce moved his hips with you, adding to your pleasure. Before too long, you had a desperate need to have him deep inside of you, so you moved up onto your knees and took his cock into your hand. You stroked him until he was fully hard again and lined him up with your entrance.

You slowly sunk down onto him. You moaned loudly at the feeling of his cock filling you up and stretching you perfectly. Bruce moaned with you.

You rested the flats of your hands on his chest and began to ride him. You started off slow. Languidly moving up and down his cock. Simply relishing in the feeling of him deep inside of you; how he always stretched you so well. You slowly began to pick up speed.

Soon enough you were riding him hard and fast. Exactly the way you both loved it. You were going to end up walking funny tomorrow, but damn was it going to be worth it.

The sounds of both your moans and skin slapping against skin was loud in the bedroom. His hips bucked and he met you thrust for thrust, hitting that sweet spot inside of you over and over again.

Bruce was straining against his restraints more now. Desperate to touch you. Had they just been flimsy handcuffs, he could have easily snapped them, but they weren’t. It was rope straight from his very own utility belt. The only way he was going to get out of them was if you let him and right now you were too caught up in your own pleasure to currently give it a thought.

“Let me. Touch you.” he pleaded between pants and moans. You nodded, also wanting to feel his hands on you, and slowed your pace. You leaned over him, giving him a nice view of your boobs, and undid the rope.

The second that he was free, Bruce’s hands immediately grabbed hold of your hips. He flipped your positions, so that you were now laying on the bed and he was on top. He moved one of your legs to his shoulder and wasted no time thrusting into you. Each harsh snap of his hips caused the bed to creak and the headboard to bang against the wall. Your neighbours were going to kill you for the noise, but you were too far gone to care anymore.

His head ducked down and his mouth moved against your skin, branding your neck and collarbone with hickeys. Bruce’s pace was relentless. All you could do was hold on, your nails digging into his shoulders and back. You chanted his name as he drove you closer and closer to the edge. One of his hands moved between you and he began to run your clit.

“Cum for me,” he growled. Fuck, he knew exactly what that voice did to you. His command was impossible to disobey as he kept pounding against that sweet spot inside of you.

You came with a cry of his name, your vision white as your orgasm washed over you. Bruce was quick to follow, a groan leaving him as he spilled his release deep inside of you.

Bruce pulled out and collapsed next to you. Both of you were breathing heavily as you basked in the afterglow.

“Fuck,” he finally muttered, once he had caught his breath.

“Yeah,” you agreed as you turned onto your side and looked over at him. The two of you hadn’t come like that in a while.

Bruce removed his cowl and dropped it onto the floor. It landed with a gentle thud onto the carpet. He rolled onto his side and propped himself up on an elbow. He reached over and cupped your face. Bruce ran his thumb over your cheek and you leaned into his touch, letting your eyes flutter close.

“Where did that come from huh?” he asked. “I’m not complaining. That was… that was very sexy.”

You could feel your cheeks heat up at his words. You opened your eyes and looked at him.

“I, uh, I don’t know,” you admitted. “Honestly, until tonight, I didn’t think I would ever actually have that sort of confidence.” You chuckled lightly. “I um… Would you, would you like to do it again sometime?”

Bruce smiled at you and nodded. “Yeah, definitely.”

#batman smut #bruce wayne smut #batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #batman #batman x fem!reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #dc smut #my writing #batman imagines #bruce wayne imagines #dc imagines

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refriedweeb · 4 years

Text

PUT YOUR LIPS ON MY SKIN ( HAWKS + READER 18+)

A/N: heyyoo! refriedweeb here again with another request from @alexandria-selina and has elements of jealous hawks with his wings (from that tiktok head canon of them puffing out you know what I mean) and this post from @keiqos !

Prompt: “A jealous Hawks where his s/o gets hit on by another pro and she's blushing. She's just being shy but Hawks takes it as she likes it. Instead of getting into a fight with the pro, he shows his s/o why she shouldn't look at anyone else.”

Tags/Warnings: smut, overstimulation, jealousy, mirror fucking, spit, a lil bit of blood, rutting, feral, aftercare, kink, jealous, dirty talk.

Word count: 5,080

Keigo Takami hated hero events. He hated having to wear the Hawks persona day in and day out, especially when it came to being surrounded by his fellow pro heroes. Now, don’t get the guy wrong, he did enjoy what he did for a career despite any behaviors he had to unlearn from the hero commission themselves. He wanted to save people, he wanted to make the world a better and safer place. He just hated all the bullshit politics that came with it. They were heroes, hell. It wasn’t about making best friends and going to fancy events when there was always going to people out there that needed them while they clinked glasses of overpriced champagne.

Though, one thing Keigo didn’t think he minded that much was seeing you dolled up in a dress that led his mind to sinful, dark places. You and Keigo had only recently started dating, after months of him slowly starting to open up to you about the shit that he’d gone through, how he’d really felt about the commission once he’d gotten the sense that he could trust you. It’d been a struggle to call yourselves an item, but now that you could, Keigo felt what he could only assume was peace inside of a darkened and traumatized heart. There was also another emotion that was stirring in him that had nothing to do with peace, and all of those awful things that he wanted to do to your body. None that he would apologize for, of course.

It wasn’t his fault that the commission had decided to host a little event when he was in the peak of his rut season.

And oh, was Keigo in trouble. You’d recently started wearing a new perfume that had driven him up a wall the moment he’d caught the scent on you at the beginning of his mating season. It wasn’t sickly sweet, but sweet enough, and mixed perfectly with your natural pheromones to create a musk that drove his cock to twitch every time you shook some hair over your shoulder, stretched, fucking just breathed. He’d been unable to keep his hands off you for the majority of the weeks that had past, except as of late. You’d told him to keep his filthy paws to himself leading up to the event, not wanting to be bruised or love bit to all hell because Keigo couldn’t control himself. The way that he saw it, the dress you’d picked for the night was to torment him on purpose. Deep red velvet that matched his wings, settling over the curve of your hips, the flow of your waist.

You’d made him promise to be on his best behavior for the night, not wanting any trouble or any media to get wildly stories about what your relationship was really about. But damn, if the moment you were alone with him, he was going to tear that dress to shreds with what little talons he had in place of regular nails. You, on the other hand, your body had been spent. Keigo was insatiable on a good day, but ever since the rut season had started, it’d been exceptionally so. Not that you could complain, your body was sore in a much different, more appreciative way than you felt with sparring.

And yes, you had chosen the red velvet dress on purpose. It was your goal of the night to drive Keigo as out of his mind as possible. You couldn’t read him quite as well yet, your relationship still relatively new, and Keigo working through an entire lifetime of walls to protect his emotional security from the hero commission. His expression was a blank one, but when you locked eyes with him, Keigo gave you the smallest eyebrow raise as he looked you up and down. A silent stamp approval that had heat blossoming up your neck. He wanted to make that perfume you were wearing mixed with his own, he wanted to make sure that anyone who got a whiff of your scent knew who you belonged to. He wasn’t a fan of sharing by any means.

The night carried on, speeches given by the leaders of the commission (which you’d always found yourself by Keigo’s side much to his comfort), Endeavor’s speech, All Night’s retirement speech, and so on and so on. There’s been a light array of snacks while the pros mingled, finding yourself talking to Shinya Kamihara, otherwise known to the world as Edgeshot. It wasn’t very often you got to mingle with the top ten pros, your rank in the high teens, so you found yourself shy. Not quite sure how to handle yourself around such class, experiences, and amazing heroes. You were sure the blush on your cheeks, your neck, was visible from outer space. Shinya was a gentleman, he complimented you on your quirk, your work, and the little bit of history you’d talked to him about on why you had made your choice to become a hero. From your point of view, it was a harmless conversation that was borderline on friendly as you got to know the fellow hero, but from a certain outside perspective it was something a little more.

Keigo wasn’t paying attention to any of the conversation going on around him, his eyes were focused on you. The way you tipped your head back as you laughed, sending another ripple effect of your smell through the air. Was that bastard Edgeshot trying to move in on you? Did he really think he had a chance? He swallowed the jealousy in his throat, though his avian side had a mind of its own on this. His wings, proud and defensive, puffed out. This caused a stir of the other heroes around him, asking if there was something they missed that he’d alerted to. Keigo laughed, the same charismatic Hawks as always, saying they just needed a stretch. He crossed his arms, fidgeting with one of his cuff links. Keigo, jealous? Haha. HAHAHAHA...ha? His eyes were narrowed into slits as he watched you pat Edgeshot on the shoulder, leaning in to kiss his cheek before the other hero moved away.

His instinct was to claim you right then and there. To rub his scent all over you and yours on his so that no one else would mistake you as open. But...that’d certainly cause a scene and that was something he promised he wouldn’t do that night. So, Keigo bit back on his instinct, unclenched his jaw, and behaved for the rest of the night. Anything that came after that was entirely out of his control. You’d floated around to him throughout the night, not doing much outside of brushing hands together, a chaste smile shared between you. This was your first real hero event ever since you broke into the teens of your career, and it was one you wanted to soak in. Keigo knew this, and didn’t want to spoil it for you despite his own feelings on the event.

Keigo’s mood, his want, took a turn for the worse when it came to someone actually flirting with you. You, not experienced enough with the personalities of some of these heroes to realize what was happening. It wasn’t Edgeshot this time, no. Now...it was Ryo Inui, better known as Hound Dog. And he was like Keigo in a way that he wanted to mark whatever it was that he wanted. Ryo put his hand on the small of your back, where Keigo’s hand was supposed to go. He laughed when you laughed, leaning in close to you as like there was some desperate secret he needed to share with your ears only. Ryo was flirting with his girlfriend and was being so bold about it. No, nope. That would not do for him. His wings fanned out again, this time catching the attention of several people around him, you and Ryo included. Your mouth dropped open in awe at the sight, though when you caught Keigo’s eyes to see his pupils narrowed into slits, something like a firework set off in your belly.

That fucking mutt dared to spoil that perfume that sent him into a frenzy with his dog-like scent? That wasn’t something that Keigo could stand for in the slightest. That scent was you. It was the scent he had been planning on burying his own in.

The two of you left the event shortly after.

On the ride back to Keigo’s place, the car was silent. Not a word was spoken between the two of you, though it was full of tension in a way where if you breathed, you felt that you could choke on it. He drove fast, shifting gear after gear with aggression that made you wish it was your neck he gripped so hard. As you sat in the passenger seat, you couldn’t help but rub your thighs together to feel some of that much desired tension between your legs. This didn’t go unnoticed by Keigo, and he hissed.

Still, the two of you didn’t exchange words until you were behind the privacy of his front door. And even then, you spoke first. “Everything okay, Keigo?”

His pupils were still zeroed in on you, as he stalked towards you, every bit the predator bird that he was. And fuck, if it didn’t make you want to melt into a puddle at his feet. You walked backwards, careful not to trip over the towering heels you were in. His body was hot, flush against yours though he refused to touch you. Keigo wanted to take his time with this, with devouring you. You’d rubbed it in his face how much the rest of the heroes wanted you, being the little flirt that you were. There was no need for him to rush into anything, the way Keigo saw it. “Oh, everything’s fine.” He commented, tone dark. “I could handle that nimrod Edgeshot eyeing you up like some desert, sure. I behaved,” Keigo tipped his head to the side as he shrugged. He’d managed to walk you back into the bedroom you’d been sharing recently.

“What are you talking about? Edgeshot was just being friendly!”

Keigo’s chuckle was cynical, but it turned the silk of your bundle into a pearl with how quickly it excited you. “He wanted to tear this dress of you just as much as I do.” How he was. “But then you had to go and be a little tease, didn’t you?” Keigo was watching you like a hawk would watch a mouse just before it clutched it in its’ talons. “Had to let Ryo rub himself on you like the mutt he is. In the middle of my rutting season.” Your back bumped up against the floor length mirror behind you as Keigo gripped your jaw, the sharp curve of what would have been talons biting into the skin there. “All I can smell on you is him.”

He clucked his tongue. Sharp, narrowed eyes lowered over your skin and back up. You were breathless and Keigo hadn’t even touched you yet. “That just won’t do, now will it, (Y/N)?”

“K-Keigo, I don’t know what you’re-”

A soft cry of pain rose from the back of your throat as his version of talons sank into your skin, enough to draw a little bit of blood. This was Keigo in his rutting form times a million, a possessive version of him you’d never seen before. Part of you was scared, but the larger part of you was excited. He wanted to claim you. He wanted to make you more than just his.

“I asked if that would do, (Y/N)?”

Unable to speak with how tightly Keigo gripped your jaw, you simply shook your head from side to side. No, it wouldn’t do. That crooked smirk brushed over Keigo’s lips, and you wanted to taste him so bad. Taste the anger on his tongue, feel the fury in the rows of his teeth. Keigo was pissed, more than anything, that someone had tried to erase his claim on you. So, the only way to make sure that never happened again was to mold the scent of you with his. “That’s a good little slut.” Keigo released his hand from your jaw, the faint tickle of blood that ran down your jaw sending a shiver down your spine.

Keigo turned surprisingly gentle as he turned you around, as he pressed your hands up against the curve of the mirror that you were facing. “I’m going to make you watch me claim you. Fuck you and fill you until there’s no fucking mistaking who you belong to.” His hands dug into the back of your skin, and you winced. “You keep these hands right here, and if you don’t, there’ll be problems. Do you understand, little bird?”

“Yes, Keigo.”

His devilishly wicked smile returned. And so did the greed in his hands. Keigo took his time groping you, the swell of your breasts full in his hands. The winding curves of your waist and hips. Down the silken road of the dress that he swore he’d destroy. He wasn’t soft, gentle. Keigo was at his brink already, but he wanted to take his time with torturing you for being such a teasing little whore. His hands gripped the sides of your thighs, plunged through the velvet fabric so that lines of red were exposed in the slits he left behind. A soft moan escaped you at the sensation of talons digging through your skin, and he watched your expression in the mirror’s reflection as he did it over your backside. “Do you like that, whore?” he whispered in your ear. “When I leave my mark on you? When all you can feel is me?”

“Yes, fuck,” you breathed in response. He buried his face in the juncture of your neck and collarbone, taking a deep breath in that still smelled like mutt, fueling his need to erase that smell completely. His kisses were wet, sloppy, tongue traced over the length of your collarbone, of your neck. A soft sigh escaped you, your grip on the perimeter of the mirror growing tighter as the need to touch Keigo grew. His teeth sank into the soft spot of your neck, your head falling back on his shoulder as he suckled the skin there, a patch of pink blossoming against the skin there that would eventually bruise. The assault against your neck and your shoulders didn’t stop there, either. He ran his nose along the length of your shoulders, leaving trails of wet, angry patches from where he’d bit and pulled at your skin. There wasn’t a single ounce of Keigo that was kidding when he said he was going to erase every trace of anyone on your body but him. His cock was hard, and it would have been so easy to just bury himself inside the soft warmth of your cunt, and god how he ached to.

But the best things came to those that waited.

While his tongue and mouth worked at your neck and shoulders, his fingers played with your breasts, groping and pulling at the skin there with reckless abandon. Fingers pinched at your nipples, sharpened nails ghosted across the tender flesh there. You shuddered, shifted where you stood as you ground against his hips, feeling the thick length of him there. Keigo had barely even touched you, but you could feel the pool of warmth between your thighs only growing wetter. “Keigo,” you mewled.

“Hmm?” his breath came hot against the ear he had been nibbling on, and your knees knocked together.

“Touch me,” you pleaded.

“Touch you where?” His tone sounded positively bored, pinching your nipple between his thumb and index finger that caused you to squeal.

“My pussy,” you caught sight of your own desperate expression in the mirror, all while Keigo looked like a predator playing with his food. And in that moment, you realized this was exactly what it was. Keigo was toying with you before he sent you to the next level of existence. Your legs quivered. “Play with me.”

“Have you been a good little bird?” He asked.

“Yes.”

His hum seemed to be a satisfied answer, because his hands left your breasts, finding a new home at the back of your dress. But rather than go for the zipper, Keigo simply tore the fabric. The sound of it ripping filled the room as it pooled down at your feet seconds later. Leaving you exposed save for the same colored red pair of panties you’d worn that night. The dress had left no room for a matching bra given the dip at your back it’d once had. But that was of no consequence to Keigo. Keigo let out a sharp breath through his teeth as he admired your body and all that came with it. His hands found the curve of your backside, kneading the flesh there with thought. You could feel the tent of him pressing in between your thighs, and you let him slip between your thighs, shifting your thighs back and forth to alleviate some of the tension in his cock for him.

On instinct, more due to the fact that the bird in him wanted to cover you in his scent and his cum, Keigo rolled his hips into you with a snap of a thrust. It pushed you forward, almost sending you colliding with the mirror. “Little bird, that wasn’t very nice of you.” He scolded, letting a finger draw under the band of your panty before lifting it up. A moment later it was slapping against your skin, and you hissed. “I’ll have to punish you. Such behavior tonight...” he drawled, quickly shedding his formal attire until he was dressed down to just his pants. Keigo pressed his chest against your back, rubbing himself against you. His free hand returned to one of your breasts, toying with the nipple there as he murmured in your ear, his voice husky.

Feral.

“So naughty tonight...” Keigo continued as his other hand slipped down the front of your body, underneath the dark red lace that had kept that pretty little cunt concealed from him. He found how wet you already were for him, slick glaze quick to coat his fingers as he ran them up and down between your legs. “Already so ready for me. You really are the little tease, aren’t you?” A moan escaped you as he teased the tip of his finger around the circle of your clit, but not quite touching it. “So filthy...” he went on, breath hot against where he’d drawn out hickies moments before.

You were so eager for him to be inside of you, already so wet for him, Keigo had the perfect punishment for you being so naughty. He brushed his thumb against your clit, and your grip on the mirror slid down as you fought not to grab onto him. He was tantalizingly slow as he circled around your clit, tapping against the swollen bud every so often but not often enough for what you needed in that moment. His chuckle was dry, the hand that had been playing with your breast sneaking up to your neck. Your thighs were slick with your need, your core on fire as he teased you closer and closer to your edge.

Keigo tipped your head back, opening your mouth as he leaned in. As he spat on the tongue you’d pushed out like the slut you were. Every possible hole he could find to fill you with, Keigo was going to. You weren’t going to be able to walk down the fucking street without a single person forgetting who you belonged to. “What do we say, little bird?”

“Thank you,” you rasped as he slid two fingers into you, feeling him stretch your walls as he slowly pumped them in and out of you. He was slow, methodical, holding your jaw in place so that he could look down at that awestruck expression on your face as he finger fucked you. Your belly was on fire, waves of fire rolling as your orgasm wound tighter and tighter around his fingers. Keigo could feel his own cock slick with his precum, knowing he wouldn’t be able to last much longer himself.

“I don’t like it when other people look at you like you’re theirs for the taking,” Keigo muttered when he the tip of his nail along your clit. The featherlight sensation caused your knees to buckle, your hips to buck as you fell back into him. “You’re mine. And I’m going to fill you so fucking good that no one makes that mistake again.” He stretched your walls further with a third finger, and you writhed in your standing position as he continued to work those fingers in and out of you. The coil in your belly was wound tight enough where you thought

“Who do you belong to, little bird?” His fingers picked up pace, the sound of your silken glaze coating him filling the room while you fought to make your brain remember words. Your mouth hung open as he finger-fucked you, head bobbing against his shoulder as he looked down at you expectantly. “Tell your man who this pussy belongs to, and I’ll let you cum.” He could feel how close you were, the sound of your mewls turning to pants.

“You! It belongs to you!” you whimpered, grinding against his hand, your hips rolled forward to press his fingers deeper inside you. “Please, Keigo!”

This satisfied him enough, at least for now. His pace quickened still until your head was hung forward between your shoulders, moaning his name over and over as you watched him finger fuck you. Your orgasm was on the brink, the precipice of pleasure and all you needed was -

“Ah, fuck! Fuck, Ke-AH,” That needed push found you moments later and you were spilling around the spread of his fingers, your orgasm taking over you as your legs spasmed, knees buckling so that Keigo had to support you with a hand around your waist. Your grip on the outer of the mirror so ironclad you thought you’d break it. It rolled through you in waves, Keigo’s fingers sticky as he pulled them from you, suckling your sweetness of his fingers like it was candy. Shit.

“What a good little slut,” he whispered. The sound of his belt loosening, the pants falling, re-sparked that fire you’d just doused by orgasming. You could see his cock, curved and thick with a head already milking his cum. “Gonna fill you so good now, gonna fuck you full of my cum.” You watched, mouth dry as he milked himself with a fist. “Gonna watch me fuck you, baby bird.” You could feel the press of his head between your thighs, and you widened your stance to accommodate him.

Then, without warning, he thrust so hard into you, that you cried out in pain. His thrusts from the get go were borderline violent, painful as you fought against being thrown into the glass of the mirror. A hand fisted into your hair, pulling it sharply enough that you could feel the pain, but with enough leeway that you could still watch as he moved in and out of you, his cock already wet with what was left behind from your first orgasm. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, the smell of sweet sex coming shortly after. You were unable to make any intelligible noises aside from mewls and gasps, while Keigo was behind you muttering to himself about how good your pussy felt, how it was made for his cock, how he was going to fill you up so fucking good.

The mountain climb to your orgasm started again, your cunt clenching around him as he thrust in and out of you with feverish need. His hips were sloppy, and you didn’t dare tear your eyes away from where he slipped in and out of you. “Such a sweet fucking cunt,” Hawks groaned, twisting your hair tighter in his fist. “My fucking pussy.” he hissed with a thrust that hit the highest point of your wall and caused you pain. Yet you didn’t dare stop. The look on Keigo’s face, the roll of his bottom lip between his teeth, let you know he was close to his high. The sight of him so focused on fucking you wound your belly tighter, and you missed the hand that slipped down to your clit once more. You cried out, the over-sensitized nub of your clit protesting as his thumb found it once more. The grip you had on the mirror shifted again, a move to get his hand away from where you were most sensitive.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” he growled, and your legs quivered. His eyes were still narrowed into near-invisible slits as you obeyed the order. You shook, spasmed, as he raced your orgasm to line up with his.

“Please, please, ah, hrnngh, Kei-” your hips found the rhythm to match his almost instantly, and tears sparked in your eyes as the bundle of nerves exploded inside of your body, every nerve ending inside you set on fire, exploding as your second orgasm found you just moments before Keigo found his own.

“Fuck, fuck yeah, gonna fill you so fuckin-Urngh,” Keigo groaned, fucking into you with one last violent thrust as he spilled himself in you, shooting ribbons of cum that went scorching through your core. There was a moment as the two of you stood there, Keigo still inside of you, breathing heavily. You on the other hand, were shaking all over, barely able to keep yourself on both legs.

Keigo’s callused finger pad was still resting over your clit, and even the smallest shift sent a wave of pleasured pain coursing through your entire body. You were overstimulated, likely to cum if he persisted again. “Kei...” you whispered. His head was resting over your collarbone, hung low. He reached out and slapped your hand away, pressed it back to the mirror. He wasn’t done with you.

“Told you, little bird. Gotta punish you.”

A whimper rolled through you, “I can’t, I can’t, I-” you let out a whine as he tapped his thumb against you again, slowly rolling a half-hard cock in and out of you as he started at your clit again. Massaging it slowly, cruelly. Your legs bowed out, slack as it was on Keigo alone to keep you supported with your weight against his chest. “Gotta make sure you know,” his hips snapped against yours again, and those tears that had been hidden in your eyes slipped loose. “That no one else is gonna fuck you this good. No one’s gonna make you feel this good.” he said, your body screaming at you for relief, for the prickling of nerves in your skin to cease. “You’re my good little slut.” You could feel whatever remnants of his cum shooting out into you once more, wetness cascading down your thighs.

The perfume you’d been wearing now, Keigo noted, was mixed so heavily with his own pheromones and sex, that there was no mistaking who fucked you at night. Who you were mated to. You were all Keigo’s, and that was what mattered to him. But he still had to finish punishing you for being a little tease, for allowing that musky scent to be tarnished by anyone other than him. You were a whimpering, sobbing mess, flushed against his body as your hips moved on their own accord in time with the fingers he was using between your sopping lips. Your cries were pained, unintelligible pleas to cum and be released. Yet, he took his time. Feeling that sweet cunt clamp down around his fingers once he pulled out of you. A moment’s reprieve before his fingers stretched you all over again. He wound you tighter, and tighter, sending that fire racing through your veins.

“I can’-” you cried out, a threatening wave of pleasure and pain coursing through you. “Please let me cum, please. I’ll be good, I’ll be good.” tears were wet against your cheek as he played with you.

“You promise, little bird?”

“Yes! Yes I promise!” you begged.

After all that time of keeping your hands on the perimeter of the mirror, your third and final orgasm had them flying to Keigo’s hair for stable purchase as it overtook you. Your sobs filled the room as your rode out the final orgasm, your chest heaving in shuddering breaths as Keigo worked you through it, held onto your body tightly to keep you from collapsing. Your legs were soaked, your nether region slick from top to bottom. Keigo pulled his fingers from inside you, slick and thick coated with both of your bodily fluids. His eyes met yours through the mirror as those fingers dipped between your lips, pushing them onto the flat of your tongue as you lapped and sucked them clean. Only when he was satisfied you’d gotten every last drop of each other’s cum, did Keigo pull his fingers from your mouth.

“You did so good, little bird.” he cooed in your ear, nuzzling his nose against the curve of your ear as he placed gentle kisses to sweat-soaked hair. Brushed away the tears on your cheeks. “Such a good girl,” he said, a hand smoothing over the places he’d bitten and marked you. Lips gentle as he pressed chaste kisses to the place on his jaw where his talons pricked you. The feral need for Keigo to fuck you into oblivion was satiated for now, his touch now gentle as he caressed and soothed you, the aftershocks of an overstimulated orgasm lessening as time lapsed. He was pleased that your scent now, was so heavily mixed of him and that perfume. No one was going to act as Hound Dog had, especially now. His lips were soft against your temple, his thumbs tender against the curve of your shoulders. It was a scent he was immediately fond of, and a scent he’d do anything to protect, to maintain. Keigo hummed, folding you up into the safety of his arms, surrounded by nothing but contentedness.

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one-rosy-sock · 3 years

Text

Coming Undone | Abner Krill x fem!Reader (1/2)

Go to the {Ao3 Link} for more info...

Fandom: The Suicide Squad (2021) Rating: T (M for future chapter) Summery: You’re a psychiatrist. You should know the warning signs when a relationship with a patient is becoming problematic. But you refuse to consider this, because Abner Krill is a lot of things, and violent is not one of them. Warnings: PTSD, childhood abuse, trauma, brief mention of past suicide attempt.

Notes: no use of y/n Disclaimer: Author is NOT a real therapist. I do not own DC comics. __ The first time you met Abner Krill, he was recommended to you by a colleague at Belle Reve.

It had been several weeks since the convicted metahumans defeated Starro, that giant one-eyed starfish. Sometimes it amazes you to no end what strange things exist in this world. The Corto Maltese coup and monster defeat held onto headlines for several weeks until the next big thing came to top it. Seeing such exciting news affect your patients wasn’t unusual, but to have a high profile patient be a part of such news was a first, you’ll admit.

As for you, well, things were pretty much the same. You see your patients during the week at your office. You’re a licensed psychiatrist, and oftentimes you see men and women who have been convicted of a felony or are ex-prisoners themselves. It wasn’t a dream job for many women, much less anyone, to counsel people so troubled. You aren’t like everyone else, though. No, you might not have x-ray vision or super strength, or any super fancy gear to punch bad guys, but you do have a gift not many have: A good ear and an open heart.

And a prescription notepad, but you are determined to make your sessions more than just a pill dispensary.

You are aware of who Abner Krill is. The Polka-Dot Man. One of the metahumans who went to Corto Maltese and defeated Starro. This has partially immortalized him in the media as a superhero, despite his past as a prisoner. Some of your patients were metahumans too, but none as powerful or as widely known as the Polka-Dot Man. His identity and those of his teammates had been concealed from the general public. As of last week, you know his real name.

His appointment’s in the morning on a Tuesday. Your secretary came by as you were straightening up your office to let you know he had arrived. You fluff the couch pillows, throw blanket over the back, tissue box on the side table, a mild scent infuser on your desk. The century-old computer at your desk whirls to cool itself off. Earlier you'd taken the time to shoot an email to Ms. Waller confirming Mr. Krill's appointment.

You follow your secretary up front. She goes to her desk and you step into the waiting room.

Though foolish, you half expected to see Abner in his super suit. The polka dot suit and headgear. Instead, he’s wearing a pair of khaki trousers that hugged high over his hips, and a somewhat flashy, silk button-up tucked neatly into the waist. And, dare you say, a fanny pack. His outfit looked straight out of the 70s or 80s. You don’t know the definitive difference between the decades. But his shirt looks clean and pressed, the collar tucked down nicely. He has one leg over a knee, bouncing it rhythmically as he watches the fish swim around the tank in the wall. It looks like he tried to read a magazine, but stopped halfway, finger wedged between the pages.

“Mr. Krill?”

He jerked in response to his name, swinging his head up with a guilty look gleaming in his eyes. You think of a puppy who’s been caught peeing on the carpet. His expression, or perhaps the way his face was structured, reminded you of a puppy too. His face was somewhat sallow, somewhat droopy. Lines indicate a lot of frowning. Like a sad, droopy cartoon dog. His face narrowed down from his eyes, making his red cupid’s bow mouth seem small. A strong, straight nose dominates his face. His big eyes seem dark and questioning. Like a scared, lost child.

Krill quickly shoots up like a bean sprout, shaking his hands out. The magazine drops to the floor. He swears, bends down to pick it up, and anxiously fusses over righting it on the coffee table. You watch the way the glossy purple cuffs wave as he moves about in jerky, quick moves.

“Good morning, doctor,” he greets warily, avoiding your gaze and staring at your shoes.

“You must be Abner,” you smile. You reach out your hand. In a painful, pregnant pause he visibly wavers as he stares at your hand as if you’d stuck out a gun at him. Finally, he reaches out to take your hand.

He has a strong grip. Sweaty hands.

Hastily, he pulls away.

“Nice to meet you. Why don’t we head on back?”

He nods. His legs are long yet his steps uncertain, reminding you of a gangly adolescent. He follows you down the hall from the waiting room and awkwardly stands by as you open the door to your private office. You hear him pat his thighs as he waits. Like a shadow, he follows and sticks close but careful not to touch. Barely making a sound.

After your office door clicks shut, the two of you sit in your respective places. Your desk chair has a high back, cloaked in a fraying, multicolor knitted throw blanket. A bit garish against the dull beige walls and simple yet whimsical desk decorations beside you. There’s a poster that reads It’s OK to feel this way: over a circle divided by colors and sections, listing different emotions.

You pull your knees up and begin to take off your shoes.

Your patient stares in visible confusion.

“Would you like to take your shoes off?” You ask, setting your shoes aside as you straighten up in your chair. “I find it easier to relax without them.”

“Um…” he trails off, his downturned mouth pursing as he considers this. The tension rolling off him makes him stiff and hard to read. All you’re getting from him so far is how much he doesn't want to be here.

You watch him while occupying your hands with things on your desk so he doesn’t feel pressured to make a decision. From the corner of your eye, you watch him swallow, Adam's apple bobbing, and he slowly reaches down to untie and slip off his oxford shoes. He sets them neatly beside his feet. Hands tucked in his lap, sock feet on the ground. Looking up at you somewhat imploringly.

“This is a safe space, Abner,” you smile at him. You have your clipboard and pen in your lap, but you make yourself relaxed and as welcoming as you can. Note-taking can be done later. Visibly, at least. Don’t want to make him think you’re already assessing him before y'all begin to talk. Can’t force him to talk.

Ex-prisoners often struggle with reforming to civilization after release. He couldn’t be forced to attend therapy here despite the outside forces that pressured him to. If he wanted to walk out, he could. Abner was so tense he seemed to be walking on eggshells. He struggled to relax his shoulders, like his limbs were too long for his body. During all this, he hadn’t met your gaze one.

“Whatever we talk about won’t leave this room, unless, for instance, you said you plan to hurt yourself or someone else.”

This gets a reaction out of him. A grimace, a shake of his head. “No, I wouldn’t…”

“Of course not. You’re a superhero now, right?”

He grins. It’s brief, boyish, sheepish. He’s studying the design of your clothes. You consider that progress from your feet.

“You were recommended to me by Dr. Rooney at Belle Reve,” you begin conversationally, baldly, wanting to get a feel of where he was coming from. Your colleague had said Krill was not a violent inmate, but was often verbally bullied by other prisoners. He tended to avoid crowds, thus mostly avoided. More than once he had been on suicide watch. Casually, you glance down at your clipboard. Born in Philadelphia to Augustine Krill--father unknown--and tried and convicted for first-degree murder as an adult in the city of Metropolis. He was incarcerated at Belle Reve shortly after turning eighteen. He was in his early forties now.

You look back up at Abner. He had that sad puppy dog look again, staring at nothing in particular with his neck hunched.

“Did you and Dr. Rooney get along?”

“D-Doesn’t your notes say?”

You make a face. “I want to know what you think of Rooney, not what he thinks.”

Abner didn’t answer right away. “He was okay.”

“Okay,” you echo, licking your bottom lip as you cock your head up. “Okay is better than nothing.”

“We mostly spoke about my mother.”

“Oh?”

“She experimented on me and my siblings. She wanted us to become superheroes,” he said. His voice held much more confidence than anything he’d said so far, but his expression remained unchanged. It was because he kept words void of emotion.

“I see.” Yes, you did see. You had anticipated the topic of his mother coming up if you didn’t ask him about it first in future sessions. Dr Krill was listed in his files as a scientist at S.T.A.R. Labs, and having six children whom lived on site with her. CPC had been called a few times, rebuffed every time by various means other than being convinced nothing was wrong. The whole thing was fishy, especially after the untimely deaths of three of Dr. Krill’s children. The whereabouts of the other Krill children were unknown. All investigations into S.T.A.R. Labs had been terminated by higher powers, even after Abner’s arrest and psychological evaluation.

Abner continues, to your surprise. “I pictured Starro as my mother.”

“You did?”

“It makes it easier, when I convince myself that my enemy is her. I don't like killing.”

You pick up your pen and tap your lip, looking down at the way he was fidgeting his feet. “Did you regret killing your mother”

Abner’s knee stopped bouncing. “No.”

“Do you regret killing the other scientists at S.T.A.R. Labs? The--”

Abner grimaced and brought his hands to his head, tugging on fistfulls of black hair. “I-I didn’t mean--I-I--”

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to answer that today,” you placate with a soft tone, putting down your pen, fingers rubbing along the edge of your clipboard. After a moment of heated silence, you set your things down on the desk and stand up. This makes your patient crumble in on himself, trying to hunch low enough to shield some blow. You smile sadly where he can’t see. “Abner, do you see my poster here? With all the emotions?”

He looks back up, glancing from you to said poster. His attention is answer enough.

“Whatever you feel in this room is valid to you and to me. Not now, but in the future I’d like for you to give me short but detailed descriptions to how you feel on certain things. It's okay to say something you think is taboo or unorthodox. This room doesn't have ears or a head to judge. Do you think you can do that?”

The couch makes no sound as he moves to better see the circle chart of words. Timidly, he nods.

“Great,” you smile sadly and sit back down. “Let’s get back to that later. Today, I’d like to talk about something other than your mother.”

Abner tilts his head. You must be doing something to exceed his expectations, because now he’s looking at you and not at you. “The Corto Maltese mission?”

“No. I want to know about you. I want to talk about Abner Krill. Who are you?”

His blank stare makes your heartache a little for him.

The following silence, where all you can hear is his ragged breath, the whirl of the monitor, and the soft mist of the incense humidifier, is thick. You can cut it with the tip of your pen. The sound of his voice as he speaks is almost staggering. "I am... I am my mother's son."

“No."

He flinches.

"Your mother does not define you. What you think about your mother and how you feel about her should not determine your sense of self or your future. You liked defeating that monster, right?”

Abner nods.

“You’re a superhero because you took action, not because she moved your hand. What you say here today, and any day, should be the same. Do you think you can do this for me?”

“I don’t understand…”

“I want to know the real Abner,” you smile. “Not Dr. Krill’s son.”

He still can’t make eye contact. The fidgeting starts back up. “But, what I am is because of her.”

“Not unless you choose otherwise. Starting today, you and I are going to help define Abner Krill. First, you are not your mother’s son.”

“But I am?”

“No. You are not your mother’s son. You’re Abner Krill, superhero. What does Abner Krill the superhero like to do?”

Understanding slowly started to dawn on him, visible in his eyes as he lifted his slanted brows. Recovering from trauma was no walk in the park, but the two of you had to start somewhere. Rooney over-fixated on Abner’s fixation on his mother and the abuse, and after years of obsessing over it to “fix” him, it seemed to become all Abner could think about. No one had really given him proper trauma recovery therapy, or helped to treat his PTSD. You wanted him to take the first step into self-evolution. No one could do it for him. You want him to define himself other than his mother’s son. Seeing himself as a superhero was perhaps the start of it.

“I-I don’t know,” he frowned. “I like to read…”

“That’s great!” Your enthusiasm startles him. “What sort of things do you like to read?”

“Well… Ah, I-I uh... I like the classics….”

The rest of your session with Abner was mostly casual. The safe topics you steered him to visibly made the man relax. He spoke about the fictional worlds he enjoyed immersing himself in. He liked the classics because they were “soft”. Sweet romances where the only real worries were who’s going to the ball. He didn't like tragedies or novels about war or great violence. With some coaxing, he opens up to talk about his favorite foods, animals, celebrities, songs-- You ask about his (non-virus related) talents or any hobbies he might’ve picked up at the prison or since he’s been out. Steering him away from the topic of his mother confused him in the beginning, leading you to assume he had anticipated mostly speaking about her. He’d been prepared like he might prepare to go into battle.

You know he won’t be able to just brush his mother aside; his virus was because of Dr. Krill. He blamed his 20+ years of incarceration at Belle Reve on his mother’s experimentations. He blamed himself. He hated her. He hated himself. Feared her. Feared himself. It was an inner wound that would never heal, you know this without a doubt, but you hope with time it becomes easier to manage as he takes control and independence of his new life.

“Did you ever go to school, Abner?”

The phantom smile on his face falls, but you haven’t lost him as he turns to you. Looks at your shoulder. “No. We--my siblings and I--were… homeschooled.”

“Right. Well, you at least know what homework is?”

“Yes. Of course. Am--Do you want me to--?”

With a hand gesture you hope is placating, you smile and gently cut him off. “Don’t worry, I’m not assigning you an essay to write or a month-long project to present. I’m not that cruel,” you chuckle. “But I am going to push you a little. Can you try that for me?”

He looks as if you’ve asked him to consider sacrificing his firstborn. Thankfully, he nods as he plucks a loose string off his knee.

“I want to see you biweekly, so schedule with Patrica upfront. Maybe this Friday or Saturday?”

“I-I can do that, yes ma’am.”

"Now, it's your choice to come back or not but it would make me really happy if you did."

His back straightens. "Yes. I'll be here."

“Beautiful, Abner. Beautiful. Sometime this week I’d like you to do something you normally wouldn't do. Go on a hike, join a gym, take a class on cooking or arts and crafts. It can be simply looking up a food recipe you’ve never tried before and making it. Tell me about your experience. If you’re around strangers, how is your relationship with them? If you see something new, how does it make you feel? This isn’t an order, Abner, just a… strong suggestion, mm? All I’m asking is for you to do something new and spontaneous. It can be at home or outside. Your choice.”

Abner licked his lips. It had taken a great deal of effort to convince him to come here at all today. Today is the first time speaking to him, but you’ve had his file for a few days now. You’re a little grateful for that. There was a lot to read. However, it took outside forces such as one Amanda Waller and fellow ex-prisoner teammates to get him to come here. You suspect someone dropped him off if he didn’t take a cab himself. He had no driver's license.

“Ah… Okay. Um, yes miss. Ma'am. Doctor! Ah--”

“You can call me by my name,” you reassure, tilting your head to him. “This is a safe space for you and I. We may be doctor and patient outside that door, but here, we can be as familiar with each other as we'd like. Like old friends.”

He turned to you with a look that sent a thunderbolt of sensation down your spine. Surprise, awe. A silent question gleamed in his puppy-dog eyes. He doesn't respond, brows raised high as he just stares at you.

You cover for his lapse. “I’ll see you in a few days. It was wonderful to finally meet you, Abner,” you say, looking at him without pretenses to hopefully show your honesty. He had an incredible gift that could help save a lot of people, and from what you've learned from recent character evaluations on him he had the makings of a fine superhero. First thing first, he needed to adjust to civilian life after years of being locked up, and years of having nothing but unresolved trauma. All the while, you hold back a rueful smile at his demeanor. You won't say it aloud of course, but he was so cute. Idly, you wonder about his sexuality- but you can ask that another day. For now you wanted him to be a little more daring to try new things and focus on something other than his mother.

You stand up and shake his hand. His grip is a little looser this time, lingering longer, but he moves away quickly, gathers his shoes, and you see him out. His scurrying reminds you of a startled elk. Large yet quick, stumbling over his long legs. Running from you as if you held a rifle instead of a purple glitter clipboard.

It was hard to believe this man had committed mass homicide.

#abner krill #polka dot man #the Suicide squad #abner krill x reader #polkadot man x reader #reader #therapy #chapter one

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