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darlingshane · 3 months

Text

Professor Castle II

Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Frank takes you to Curtis' wedding in Florida as his date.

CW: 18+. Explicit, Smut, Angst, Romance, Fluff, Vaginal Sex, Fingering, Mutual Masturbation, Kissing, Feelings, Age Gap, Professor/Student relationship.

Word Count: 6.5k

— Links: First Part // AO3.

A/N: I wasn't planning on adding another part to this, but this idea came to me as I was finishing the first one and I had to write it. There are a lot of mixed feelings and romance and smut. And we also get to know how reader and Frank got together in the first place. Billy and Dinah have a significant appearance here, and Billy is kind of a bitch. I can never bring myself to see him in a better light, even in an au like this.

It's Friday afternoon, after a hectic day of work and classes, that you get on a flight to Florida to accompany Frank to one of his best friends’ wedding.

It feels like a pretty surreal experience that he wanted you to come along, and that you also said yes. The last time you were invited to a wedding you were probably eleven or twelve and were seated at the kids’ table. Going to an affair like this as an adult with your very grown-up, secretive boyfriend feels like skydiving with no parachute.

It's already dark by the time the plane lands in the evening. The knot in your stomach tightens as you get off the plane. You were already nervous before taking off. Once your feet touch ground in Florida you wish you had a longer flight. It all happened so fast you didn't have time to prepare yourself for the idea of meeting Frank's friends. It's basically like meeting his family. Whenever you've heard stories about Billy or Curtis, he always talked about them as if they were blood brothers. So the whole thing becomes more scary the closer you get to the hotel.

There's a sudden shift during that half an hour ride to your destination. Internally, you feel like you still should hide your relationship with Frank, but he's been holding your hand the entire way there. You can't bring yourself to process how good it feels not having to care about if someone might see you or not. For months, being constantly alert is all you've done. It was exciting at first, but not as much as having his big paw holding your hand out in the open while the shuttle driver asks if you're here on vacation.

The building you arrive in sits so close to the ocean you can hear the waves crashing on shore and smell the fresh saltwater lingering in the air before you get out of the vehicle.

Once you've checked in, you get to a lovely room on the third floor with a view to the pool where a group of people enjoy an evening dive. You open the door to the balcony to let the air in, while Frank checks the rest of the room.

“Are you okay, baby?” Asks Frank as you lean on the railing outside.

“Yeah, just a little tired.”

“Well, there's a bed right here.” He points out before opening his suitcase on the mattress to take out his suit.

“It looks like a nice bed.” Glancing over your shoulder, you watch Frank straightening the fabric before hanging it in the closet.

When he's done, he joins you on the balcony, linking his arms around your waist.

“Should we go out to dinner or stay and order room service?” He softly kisses your nape.

“Hm, I'm fine with either. What do you wanna do?”

“Well, It'd be nice to go out since we never get to do that. But on the other hand, we haven't been really alone for a couple of weeks, and I was really looking forward to having you all for myself tonight.”

“It's still early, my king. We can do both.” You tuck your arm back to caress his jaw.

“Yeah? I thought you were tired.”

“I'm also hungry. Let me change and get rid of the airplane smell, and we'll go exploring.”

You unpack your suitcase and hang the outfits you picked for the next couple of days next to Frank's, which is such a bizarre thing to do. It's going to be an interesting weekend without having to put much thought into the secrecy of your relationship. Something as simple as just holding hands or letting your clothes live next to his, even if it's just temporary, makes you feel that normalcy most couples have. You wonder if this is what the future holds for you and Frank. It begs to question if this is the future you want with Frank.

Both of you freshen up and change into clean clothes. You slip into a long skirt with a halter top in your favorite color and a pair of sandals while Frank dons a pair of black chinos and a brown polo shirt.

Heading downstairs you go straight to the restaurant, sit at the bar and order some drinks first while you wait for a table.

“What?” you're chewing on the end of a straw when you notice Frank stare weirdly fixed on you. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No, you’re perfect.” His gaze beams full of wonder. “I just… Look at you. You're so beautiful. I can't believe you're here with me. I thought we'd never get to be out like this.”

“It’s kinda weird, isn’t it? But in a good way.”

“Yeah. C’mere,” his hand slides along your jaw and stops at your nape. A flick of his tongue swipes his lips before planting a wet one on your mouth. It lingers for a moment before diving for a deeper taste. It takes you off guard, and you almost want to pull back as soon as the tip of his tongue escapes past your teeth. It’s when it tries to meet with yours that you awkwardly pull your head back. His palm massages the back of your neck as you press your forehead against his, feeling a pang of sadness thrum in your chest.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

Your head slightly shakes, as you look down at your hands holding his forearm on your lap.

“I just… I feel like everyone is staring at us.”

“Let’em.”

“Frank.”

“Baby, I’m serious. Nobody is watching us. Look around,” his hold loosens around your neck and your head swivels to see that in fact no one is interested in whatever you and Frank do. “Are you embarrassed to be seen with an old man like me?”

“You’re not that old.”

“That wasn’t a no.”

“I’m not embarrassed to be with you, Frank. I… I wish we could do this all the time like normal people do. It feels like after this weekend, we’ll never get to do this ever again. I know we just got here, and I’m just being dramatic, you don’t have to say it. But uh… it makes me sad we can’t go out like this at home.”

“Baby, I get it. I wish I could have you like all the damn time. It breaks my heart to see you every day and have to remind myself not to look at you or touch you or kiss you.”

“Sorry for bringing you down with me. It's been a long day. And being here with you is a little overwhelming. It's brought a lot of stuff to the surface I never even considered before. I see it comes out so natural for you to do something like holding my hand or kissing me, and I feel bad that there’s this weird thing blocking me from enjoying that.”

“Hey, don't apologize.” Frank sighs before gently pressing a kiss on your forehead. “I'm the one who's sorry for not realizing sooner that this was a bigger deal for you than I thought. I just wanted you here so badly, I didn't think what this meant for you– for us. How about we go back to the room, order something, put on a movie and take it slow.”

“No, it's okay. I'll be fine. I wanna get used to this. I wanna be here with you, Frank.”

“Yeah?”

Drawing a smile, you simply nod and squeeze his hand a little harder.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“A couple of times. It doesn’t hurt to hear it again.”

Your lips pull up a little higher, as you lean forward to attempt to resume the kiss he started.

“Mr. Castle.” The restaurant’s hostess interrupts you just as you press your lips against his. “Your table is ready.”

She guides you to a table by the window with a view to the beach.

“Your waiter will be right over,” she politely says before going to fetch more people to place at the empty tables.

Despite being still a little nervous about the whole thing, you’re so over the moon with Frank, that it's easy to relax more and more in his presence. He knows how to smooth things over with just a few sweet words or an adoring glance framed by those glasses that really show the beauty of his eyes. You never thought he'd be this casual and forward when it came to showing public displays of affection. You're both overly cautious, but here, it's like he's flipped a switch in his head and all his problems are gone. Despite his impromptu decision the other day when he tried to break up with you, it feels like he's been dying to be able to show the world that you're his, and he is yours. You adore that about him and try to ease your mind into being more present right here and let go of all those worries that sadden your heart. Even if it's just for two days, you should be able to enjoy what you got.

By the end of your meal, you’re halfway through your dessert when a couple approaches the table.

“Hey, Frankie!” Billy, who you recognized from one of Frank’s pictures, makes him stand from his seat to give him a hug.

“Bill,” he addresses him before looking at the woman by his side. “Hey, Dinah. Good to see you again.”

“Yeah, good to see you, too.”

“And you must be the mystery woman Frank never told us about until a couple of days ago,” Billy directs his attention to you as you extend your hand in his direction.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”

“Oh, she’s funny.”

“You have no idea.”

They both shake your hand as Frank sits back down.

“Thought you were going to turn in early like the rest of the party.”

“That was the plan, but we decided at the last minute to come down. You guys wanna join us?”

“No, we’re going to this swing by this bar down the street. You should come.”

“We've already had a couple of drinks,” Frank says. “We were about to call it a night.”

“C’mon, just a nightcap. It’s been a while since we’ve seen you. And you just can’t bring a date to Curt’s wedding and not properly introduce her like she deserves.”

Frank glances at you and shrugs, “you wanna go?”

“Just one drink?”

“Just one drink,” Billy repeats. “I mean if you’re old enough to drink.”

He says so casually it throws you off, but you’re quick to reply when you’re nervous.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that but yes, I’m old enough to drink.” You prove it by lifting the almost empty cocktail glass from the table and bring it to your mouth to finish it.

He mimes his fingers zipping his mouth as Dinah gives him a look and Frank hangs his head down.

Once the momentary awkwardness has passed you choose to follow them down the boardwalk to a crowded bar at the end of the street. You take a table outside and order some drinks. You go for another cocktail, the guys have a couple of beers and Dinah settles for scotch on the rocks.

“So, Frankie here has strictly forbidden us to ask you questions. What is he trying to hide?” Billy stares at you from the other couch with his elbows leaned on his knees.

“I didn't say that. I only asked you to not give her the third degree.” He scoffs.

“It's okay.” You laugh, placing a palm at the small of Frank's back. “What do you wanna know?”

While Billy questions you about your life, where you come from, what you’re majoring in, what your hobbies are… Frank tries to remain not too bothered but often chimes in to say – you don’t have to answer that, when Billy pokes into something way too personal.

Almost through with your cocktail you stand up and head to the bathroom and Dinah stalks behind you.

“Didn’t realize you were coming too,” you say when you notice her holding the door after you step into the room.

“Yeah, I needed a break from hearing Billy talk. Don’t mind him, he always had a big mouth. It’s pathological, but he’s harmless… for the most part.”

“He’s… intense,” you say for the lack of a better word. “How long have you two been together?”

“Oh, we’re not together together. We just hang out sometimes.”

“You could’ve fooled me.” You lean on one of the sinks while Dinah fixes her makeup.

“How long have you been dating Frank?”

“Hm, almost a year.”

“You know, I dated a teacher once at the academy, but it was nothing like you and Frank.”

“How so?”

“He didn’t take me as a plus-one to a wedding for starters. It was just sex. I can see that it’s more for you and Frank. Is it?”

“I uhh… I think it is. It’s crazy that he invited me here.”

“Yeah, he’s been moping around for a couple of years since his last girlfriend. It’s good that he has you now. How did that happen?”

You can see that Dinah and Billy have more in common than she lets on. They definitely share the same hunger to gather information from anyone. You don’t mind them poking around to know more about you. It’s actually refreshing being able to talk about you and Frank for the first time, and if Frank has told them about you, it means that he trusts them.

“Well, it’s not an interesting story. We didn’t fall in love at first sight, or shared longing glances across hallways, or pass secret notes, and shit. He uh… we used to go to the same café outside campus that has the best coffee. One day I saw him trying to pay with his phone cause he forgot his wallet, and it wasn’t working cause he’s technologically inept to handle any app. So I paid for his coffee. The next day he paid for mine and I helped him manage his digital wallet. We started taking more and more outside class. We would walk together back to campus. Over time, it took us longer and longer to make it back. We would stop at this park to look at the ducks in the lake. Sometimes we fed them to stall. Though neither of us gave a shit about the ducks-”

“Of course,” Dinah softly smiles at your remark.

“Then I’d tell him I’d be at this art show, or go to this movie, whatever shit I was doing, hoping he’d show up, and he did. It was like that for months, one day we looked at the other, and we knew… I guess we fell in love. And at the same time we realized that we couldn’t see each other like that anymore. So we stopped hanging out. That lasted like three weeks tops. We were both miserable.”

“And then what happened?”

“I… it was the end of the semester, before finals, I had my first play, and he came to see it.”

“He came to see you.” She accurately points out.

“Right. Once it was over, he went backstage to say hi to everyone. I… before he left I said to him to wait for me in his car and he did. After everyone left, I headed out to the parking lot, got in the passenger seat and told him to drive. We talked for hours, trying to convince ourselves once more that we couldn't be together, that I'd never work, but it didn't matter. We made a choice and now here we are. We’ve been hiding for months and it…”

“It finally feels right to say it out loud.”

“I think so… I can’t tell anyone else in my life right now. It’s hard to trust anyone with a secret like that. But if Frank told you I guess I can trust you.”

“You can. I get it. Sometimes you can't choose who you fall in love with.”

“How come something that’s supposed to be wrong feels so right at the same time?” You’ve been wondering for months.

“That’s a complicated question, sweetie. But it’s usually the things that are supposed to be wrong that feel the best, unfortunately.”

Meanwhile, outside, Billy grills Frank a little more about you on a totally different approach than Dinah’s.

“C’mon, Frankie. You can’t be serious. You know you could lose your tenure if they find out.”

“They’re not going to find out.”

“If it was just sex I’d get it. I’ve had my fair share of coeds. The difference is that I’m not their teacher, well, sometimes they like to pretend that I am, if you know what I mean. But you’re bringing her to Curt’s wedding, as your date. That’s nuts.”

“Why is it so hard to believe that I love her?”

“Cause you haven’t been with anyone since Maria and the first person you date is one of your students. Does it sound sane to you? Are you having a midlife crisis or something?”

“You know, out of everyone, I thought you'd be the last one to judge, Bill.”

“I'm not judging you, Frankie. I'm just checking that you haven't completely lost your mind. Someone has to. You look like you're willing to risk it all out for her. Is she worth all that, your job, your reputation, your precious principles? I thought you had a code.”

“She's absolutely worth all that. Can you say the same about Dinah? When are you going to stop playing with her?”

“Me? She's the one who calls the shots. She's the one playing with me.”

“Yeah, sure.” Frank scoffs before taking a swallow of his beer.

“Okay, let's just say it's a game we both love playing. I use her, she uses me, it's a win-win situation.”

“Until someone gets hurt.”

“Well, some people like that. How are you keeping up with her?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean bed wise. I know from experience that twenty-year-olds are like feral cats. Can you handle something like that?”

“Jesus, Bill. You're fucking disgusting sometimes. Don't talk about her like that.”

“What? Have you forgotten how you were at her age? You were either fucking or thinking about fucking.”

“Not everything is about sex.”

“Right, so you're not having sex.”

“That's none of your business.”

“Well, if you're so willing to put your ass in the line, I hope you're getting at least something out of it.”

“That's all that is for you, huh? You never do anything unless you're getting something in return. Everyone and everything is trading businesses for you. Even love.”

“Love is for children, Frankie. Never did anything good for anyone. Look at you… Every woman that ever touched you left a deeper mark than the last one. I’d rather be shot a hundred times than having to carry imaginary scars. What do you think is gonna happen when she's done with you? You think a girl like that is ready to commit forever?”

“You're so full of shit, Bill. You talk big game, but you never made it past the side lines. If that's where you wanna stay there, fine, but don't pretend you know how it feels to put yourself out there and offer yourself without expecting anyone to hand everything to you right away.”

“You used to be more fun.”

“Well, your idea of fun is different from mine.”

“Hey, what did we miss?”

Dinah and you return to the table that seems to have gathered a visible dark cloud over them.

“Nothing, get your stuff. We're going back to the hotel.” Frank barks, promptly rising from his chair.

“Are you ready to tell me what happened between you and Billy?” you straddle Frank's lap on the bed. He's taken off his glasses and most of his clothes and the only thing left is his boxer briefs. You tried to pry on the way back here, but he was clearly still upset about something. Now that he's more relaxed you try again while you comb his hair with your fingers. “Was he mean to you? Do you want me to kick his bony ass?”

“I'd like to see that,” he chuckles as his palms smooth the bare skin of your thighs. “There's nothing to tell, sweetheart. He's just an asshole sometimes. I'll get over it. C'mere.”

He tucks a finger under your chin and pulls your face closer so he can seize your lips. You can tell he's trying to distract you from asking further questions but if he's not ready to talk about it then there's nothing you can't do right now. You happily accept his affection and quickly melt in the slow undoing of his tongue as it finds yours. It's easy to forget and forgive when he has you like this. All rational thought abandons you and suddenly your hips are grinding against him, following the same rhythm as his tongue as it becomes more eager to please you. His hands hold tight to your hips, coaxing you to feel him growing hard between those layers of underwear keeping your flesh from coming to close contact.

“God, I've been dying to have you like this, sweetheart,” his breathing falters between sloppy kisses.

“I know.” You break from his mouth and press your forehead against his, gazing down at the spot where your centers rub together to see his cock bulging up like mad.

Frank gets a hold of your top and swiftly pulls it over your head so he can kiss your tits. He buries his face in your chest while your arm curls around his nape. He's all tongue, teeth, and lips inciting your skin to come alive into tiny pimples. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, hums around it, and bites hard as you let out a breathless gasp when his teeth sink into your flesh. Before it starts hurting he releases it to see a faint mark around the circumference.

“Fuck me.”

“Yeah?” Biting his bottom lip, he draws the shape of your jaw with a finger before shifting positions with you to have you on your back. That same finger traces the length of your torso all the way down to your underwear. He takes a full sight of you for a beat before yanking your panties off you and pushing his boxers down.

His feet shimmy out of the fabric, as he lowers himself on top of you, letting you meet his full erection that throbs over your tender, slicked flesh. His warm breath heats up your face when he presses his parted mouth at the corner of your lips. He viciously rubs himself against you, collecting your juices all around his cock. Then he buries himself inside you as your whole body trembles as usual. Every time he penetrates you like this, the most thrilling chill takes over your body before you can even come. It settles at the back of your head, as all your senses are taken by that powerful lust force that you can’t control. Each thrust of his hips, each kiss, and lick, and word whispered in your ear takes you closer to heaven. He fucks you with mind, body and soul, like real men do, making you come with ease each fucking time.

“Tell me you love me,” you moan against his jaw, while you dig your nails on his back.

“I love you. I fucking love you, sweetheart.” He desperately pants as the pace of his hips becomes more urgent.

“Tell me you need me.”

“Of course I need you. All the damn time.”

You both gradually lose your ability to breathe the closer you get to orgasm. His sweat sticks with yours as your bodies melt together in that haze of love and lust bubbling all over the room.

“Tell me you’re never going to leave me again.” It sounds needy as you say it, but you need to hear it over and over, especially now.

“I promise…fuck. I promise I’m never gonna leave you again, baby.”

One of his hands clutches to your hips to keep you still while he fucks the light of you with unbridled passion. You can feel every inch of your body vibrating to the sound of his skin slapping on yours. Your breath comes out forced in short breaths as he makes that final effort that tips you over the edge. Your walls flutter and contract around his cock for a moment as you reach the top of your climax.

“I’m gonna… fuck,“ you’re squeezing him so hard, he just spills all of himself inside you while you ride that tide that makes your vision blur and ears ring for a moment while he tries to tame his own orgasm.

When you come to your senses, he’s dead weight on top of you, limp and hot, kissing your neck softly while he regains his breath. You can hear your own heartbeat in your ears still as one of our hands blindly glides up his back.

“You’re fucking amazing, you know that?” his voice comes out hoarse.

“I know.”

“What you asked me to say… you know I mean it, right?”

“I think so.”

“Are you still scared that I’m gonna leave you?”

“A little, yeah. I… it was just seven days ago when you told me that you didn’t want to see me again. I know you didn’t mean it and that you only wanted to keep us safe, but it was a hard week, Frank. I’m not mad at you. It’s just been a roller coaster of emotions, and now we're here together, playing like a normal couple and I can't help but feeling a little insecure about all of it. Not just you.”

“I'm sorry,” he shifts on top of you, lifting his head so he can capture your eyes. “I really am. I hate to make you feel that way. I know it's confusing but you gotta know something. You… You're all that matters to me. I’d die without you, sweetheart.”

“Now, who’s the dramatic one?”

“I only learned from the best.”

The next day, the wedding ceremony is set at noon.

Half an hour before the event, everyone starts gathering at the lobby to walk together to the beach. Frank holds a palm at the small of your back while he introduces you to Curtis finally and a handful of friends. He manages to avoid stumbling onto Billy altogether.

When you get to the beach, Dinah beckons you to take a seat next to her on the fourth row. Meanwhile, Frank stands next to Curt in the makeshift altar framed by swaying palm trees and a spectacular backdrop of vibrant blue skies adorned with wispy clouds and a blinding sun. Right by the groom’s side also stand Curt’s brother and Billy, who seems to be feeling the icy chill of Frank’s cold shoulder. You’ve never seen him this mad at anyone before and by the way Billy occasionally glances at you and Dinah, you start to wonder you're the cause of their rift.

Frank has traded his glasses for aviators and shines so handsome in a navy blue suit with a white dress shirt and no tie. Everyone is dressed in light fabrics and bold colors. You’ve chosen a floral romper and wedges.

Waiting for the affair to start, as you produce a pair of shades to shield your eyes from the sun, Dinah lightly touches your arm.

“You know I don’t agree with Billy at all,” she says coolly as if you had any idea what's going on. “I told you he was harmless, but he can be a real asshole sometimes.”

“I…” You glance at her, trying to gather some thoughts cause you’re really lost right now.

“Oh, Frank didn’t tell you?” She realizes by your expression. “I'm so sorry. I thought you knew.”

“No, he didn't tell me. I asked him. He said that it was just Billy being Billy. But I could tell it was more than that.” You're afraid of asking but if it's something about you, you have the right to know. “Bill doesn't like me, does he?”

“It's not that. He believes Frank isn't thinking clearly when it comes to you. Said you're just an infatuation that's going to get him in trouble. I'm sorry that you had to hear it from me. Frank should've told you.”

“It's okay. It's nothing that he and I hadn't thought of before. It's hard to hear it from someone else's mouth though. I guess that's why he didn't want to tell me.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it'll be fine. I don't know Billy enough to care about what he thinks. It's me and Frank that matters.”

“You have more class than me. I'd definitely get back at him if he tried to alienate anyone in my life like that.”

“It's not really my style. He can think whatever he wants. It's a free country.”

“I shouldn't tell you this but… just so you know he didn't get any of this last night. After you and Frank left he kept whining like a bitch and I just had it with him.”

“Oh God, I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. It's not your fault.”

When the music starts playing, everyone rises from their seats to watch the bride walk down the aisle. They exchange bows under the most stunning setting you’ve ever seen. Though you don't know Curtis and Delia besides Frank’s stories, it's straight up lovely to see two people in love celebrating their joy with family and friends.

Once they’ve sealed the ceremony with a kiss, they cross the aisle together as husband and wife between joyful cheering and applause.

Then, the party moves to the reception in a locale nearby. It's held outside under a canopy of flowers and fairy lights illuminating the array of tables framing the dance floor. The food is served buffet style and your plate is 90% filled with shrimp when you take a seat next to Frank.

“Did you leave some shrimp for the rest?”

You simply shrug, amused, “you snooze, you lose. That's the rule of the buffet. Are you nervous about your speech?”

“A little.”

“Just pretend you're in class giving a lecture.”

“Yeah, I'll try that.” He gazes at you as he brings a piece of salmon to his mouth.

“And if that doesn't work, you know what they say… picture everyone naked.” You start stuffing yours with pieces of shrimp.

“I don't see how that'd be better. I don't wanna see any of these people in their birthday suits.”

“Then focus on me and my birthday suit.”

“I'll try that.”

Frank, of course, despite having some jitters about that best man speech he just has the right words to say about Curtis and Delia. He even makes everyone laugh with a couple of heartfelt jokes about his friendship with Curt. It's really endearing to see him among his people. You can tell that he's made a tight-knit group of loyal friends that'd be there for him for the rest of his life.

As the day progresses, and the alcohol starts taking effect a few people step into the dance floor. You spot Dinah dancing with Curtis’ brother and Billy sweet-talking to one of the bridesmaids by the buffet.

“You having a good time, baby?” Frank's arms circle your waist while you pick a glass of wine from the bar.

“I'm having the best time. Everyone is really nice.” You take a sip of your glass.

“I told you that there was nothing to worry about. Everyone loves you.”

“Well, not everyone.” You tilt your head to the side to point at Billy. “You should've told me what happened.”

“I didn't want to upset you.”

“I'm not upset, Frank. Like I told Dinah, I don't know him enough to care about what he thinks. I know you were trying to protect me, but you don't have to.”

“It's not that, sweetheart. I'm just tired of having the same conversation. We know what we're up against. Figure I could save you the headache of going through all our faults again. There was no point in telling you all the bullshit that came out of his mouth.”

“Well, that's good to know, but I don't want to hear it from other people either. If he said anything about me, I have the right to know, don't you think?”

“He didn't say anything specifically about you, baby. It was mostly about me choosing to bring you here.”

“But it really upset you. You should've told me.”

“I know, I'm sorry,” he kisses your jaw. “How can I make it up to you?”

“Hm… let me think,” you sway your hips, making him move with you. “I think a dance will suffice.”

“Sweetheart, I love you, but I can’t dance to this.”

“I can wait for a slow one.”

“Alright, but just one song.”

“Got it.”

As much fun as you had with Frank dancing without a care in the world, there's nothing like being back in the hotel room to rest for the night. Mingling with that many people can be exhausting and though you had a great time, you revel in the quietness and comfort of these four walls. To wash out the day of your skin, you take a shower together. Then you lay naked on the bed, face down with our arms tucked under your head while Frank's hands massage your back. His fingers knead all the right spots until you’ve completely relaxed before feeling his lips pressing soft kisses all over your spine. One of his hands slips between your thighs. You separate your knees further apart to make room for it as he softly massages your sex. His palm gently rubs back and forth while he presses his mouth to your ear.

“How does that feel, baby?”

“Good. So fucking good,” you hum. “Don’t stop, please.”

“You gonna make a mess for me, huh?” you notice one of his fingers slipping between your folds to feel those early drops of arousal. “Yeah, you always do.”

You laugh to yourself as he presses a little harder, drawing mind-numbing circles around your clit.

“God, I love you so much.” You lightly wave your ass at his touch, aching for more fiction.

Frank takes the hint and uses his index and middle fingers to rub harder around your hardened nub as he presses his semi-hard against your hip.

“Look what you do to me,” his breathing echoes in your ear, while he rubs himself on your skin. “You proud of yourself?”

“Not quite. You should be harder already,” you turn your head to look at him and move your closest hand to grab his length.

He laughs against your mouth before sending his tongue to taste your kiss.

Mutually serving the other, his cock grows harder in your fist, as you melt around his fingers when they invite themselves into your opening.

“Open your legs a little more, sweetheart,” you heed his command. “Attagirl.”

His thick fingers quickly are wrapped in a sheen layer of your juices as he pushes them in and out repeatedly, letting your arousal drip on the sheets. At the same time, you massage his raging erection that barely fits in the curl of your palm anymore when it's fully swollen.

“I wanna feel you, Frank,” you purr on his lips as he drives you out of your mind.

“Yeah? Want me to come inside you?” He makes a point to press his fingertips hard on your g-spot to earn a good moan out of you.

“You need me to beg?”

“A little. Yeah.”

“Please, I need you to fuck me.”

“Say what you whisper in my ear when you wake me up in the middle of the night just to fuck.”

“I'd die if you don't wake up right now and fuck me,” you sigh. “Please. I need you, king.”

“That's my girl. C'mere.” He takes his fingers away and handles your body so you're laying on your side. He pulls your back flush against his chest and drives the blunt tip of his cock smoothly between your legs.

“God, you're always so fucking wet.”

“Just for you.”

As you adjust your leg to be more comfortable, he tucks his arms around you. His bottom arm slips under your armpit to hold your chest, while his opposite hand rubs its fingers on your clit. Frank thrusts come long and dragged. His mouth opens at the crook of your neck to devour your flesh. You take the hand holding your tit and bring it up to your mouth so you can take his fingers between your lips.

“Fuck, you're gonna make me come, baby,” he rumbles in your ear when you blow his fingers as if it was his cock.

You can tell he's ready to burst by the way his length twitches inside you every time his fingertips touch the back of your throat.

Wrapped in an ethereal veil made out of love and lust, your bodies sync up and lace in an intricate knot, moving together like one. You expel the same shallow breaths. Pulses follow the same pattern. Arch your bodies at the same angle. He keeps a steady rhythm on your folds, you keep your mouth tight around his knuckles. When your legs start trembling, he trembles with you. You beg him again, to go harder. Your core fuses with his as the flame between burns brighter and hotter the closer you get to the top. Overwhelmed by the intoxicating haze, at the very last second, his body gives up and falls out of cadence. Frank comes with the force of a waterfall before you do. A deep grunt echoes in the room as his hips erratically keep pushing for a couple of seconds until he’s spilled every last drop into you.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, baby,” his breathing falters.

“It’s okay. Just don’t stop. Please.” You pull your mouth away from his hand.

“Sh, sh, I won’t. Come for me, baby.” His fingers stay glued to your clit, his cock remains hard, and deep buried inside your walls while he keeps viciously rubbing on it to grant you your release.

You're so close, you can feel your body about to meet that same force. You clutch your hand around his wrist as your body locks for a beat before being overcome by that whirlwind of pleasure that takes you to a higher ground.

Frank holds you tight as your body goes limp in his embrace. You’d die here if you could, in his arms wrapped around you, in the comfort of his kisses and his voice in your ear telling you how much he loves you.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher fanfiction #jon bernthal #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal smut #angst #smut #fluff #darlingwrites #made a mini moodboard cause i couldn't choose just 3 pics

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imtryingmybeskar · 2 years

Text

Starman Chapter Sixteen.

I have nothing to say except that normal service will be resumed next week. And that I think it's pretty obvious that I'm not a biochemist and my biology education stopped age 16 so forgive any inaccuracies. I have tried to use inclusive language gender-wise.

I also owe nods to both Terry Pratchett and The Walking Dead. And probably a whole host of other things since I am a total hoor for horror and science fiction and the combination of the two.

Warnings for murder, gore, blood, human experimentation, vast discussions of pregnancy and conception, miscarriage, religion, a mention of religious based transphobia and bioessentialism, periods, sperm (but not in a sexy way), non specific mention of rape, suicide.

Word count: 7.8k

Starman

Chapter Sixteen

Professor Caoimhe Alarie

"I don't...I don't really know what to say. A lifetime of presentations and speeches and demonstrations, but I can never seem to find the right words for my own private journal. Why to make one at all? I suppose its another tentative reach of hope - that one day future generations will look back on these recordings and at least begin to have an understanding of where they came from. Or perhaps it is arrogance and sheer hubris that makes me think that there will be future generations at all. Who can know? We are so close, so close in so many ways, and yet on days like today I fear that we are still as far from a solution as we have ever been.

This vessel is both a refuge and a dream. An ark, as Caleb so quaintly puts it. He had to explain the reference to us all. I still don't understand why he delves so deeply into those old philosophical texts, but if that is what brings him comfort during this madness then who am I to judge? Our many gardens are fruitful and the horizons bright - scans show a system mere months away that looks extremely promising. There is one large moon in particular where all signs point to functioning biosystems that we can integrate with. Its associated planet is less hospitable, but terraforming should be possible once we have established ourselves more fully. I just hope that we can land safely and decant in peace. The children that have been born thus far are as happy and healthy as one can expect given that they have never experienced anything other than artificial gravity. They play and learn and we are instilling the importance of our mission and their parts in it. I myself try to devote some time to teaching them. Not biochemistry oddly enough, but languages - I am the only Irish speaker on board, and along with Mssr. Durand I ensure that they know their French too! I want the children to be exposed to as much of the culture of where we came from as possible. I am not alone in this desire, and we are very lucky to have such a diverse team. The children are also picking up Japanese, Igbo, Finnish, Arabic, Mandarin and Spanish from some of the others on board. This too is a kind of preservation.

One of the nurseries is already full again - the shorter gestation experiment seems to have been an overall success, though the rate of parental mortality was unacceptably high in my opinion. Perhaps if we fall back on attempting replication of those results in the Genetic And In-Vitro Alteration tanks only we could save more lives. Though I am aware of a division growing amongst those who were grown in utero and those who came from GAIA. We cannot afford this rift. When we land, we must work together if we are to survive. If we cannot, perhaps we really have learned nothing from this mission. Perhaps we deserve-

No, I cannot think that way. Of everyone on board this ship, I cannot think that way. I desperately wish we could have retained communications with the other...arks...out there. Impossible of course. The whole point of them, of us, is to spread as far through the galaxy as possible. To give us the best chance of survival. But it hurts...the emptiness of simply not knowing how they have fared. And of the certainty that we shall never know of their fate.

The next nurseries have been prepared and are ready to receive, but I fear the consequences of these experiments. The smaller children...the idea was to make it easier for them to pass through the birth canal. After all, when we begin to terraform on a wider scale we may not have the luxury of medically assisted births. We must make it as easy as possible for people to give birth without intervention. I hope these children will not be too small that they cannot survive independently. We have their incubators on standby of course, but given that we are to land on a potentially hostile landscape very shortly...we will need all able bodies, all resources to make that happen and establish ourselves. They need to be strong enough by then. Those who were implanted with multiple embryos worry me even more. If a person can produce several children at once, then of course that is preferable to multiple people with multiple gestation periods for a child that may not even survive in the end. The odds are more favourable to us if there are, for example, five or six in utero. But the cost to the parental body...the labour intensive nature of raising that many helpless infants all at once. Again, we have the luxury of being able to do that here, but what about out there? How can one person survive two or three or four at once? At the moment, bodies are not well designed for such things. Perhaps we should revisit some of the discarded ideas once more...

Every time we make progress I feel like our destiny branches - granting a multitude of possibilities, but with oh so many that bring us closer to regression. We barely escaped our home in time - our environment saturated with poison to such a degree that it had irrevocably changed us as a species. Millions of years of evolution halted in the face of greed and carelessness and lack of foresight. While we were busy trying to clear the floating rubbish that had piled en masse on the land and in the oceans we had already ingested too many plastic particles, too much of the detritus of industry. We fled because we had soiled our habitat to the point that our bodies were permanently chemically altered - our eons old reproductive method of flinging genetic material at each other and hoping it took root no longer viable, natural pregnancy and birth a true rarity. The crisis was so long in the making, and the solution so quick in the execution. I feel for those left behind and I hold out hope, however desperate and futile it may be, that they too find a way to survive."

Caoimhe hesitated and then stopped recording. All of her journal entries ended the same way. Much as she tried to keep to updates of how the mission was proceeding, how the experiments were progressing, she always, always came back to that anxiety, that hollow feeling of guilt that had pursued her across the galaxy deep into unknown space.

Logically, she knew that there had been little other choice. She was one of the finest scientific minds they had, one of a very few candidates to lead one of the population expansion missions. The hope was that they would scatter themselves among the stars like dandelion seeds, the ships that contained them serving both as pappus and achene, once they found suitable ground to land upon. But they had left so many behind. So many precious lives. The testing and harvesting had taken nigh on two decades. Twenty years to sort the wheat from the chaff, the sheep from the goats - idioms Caleb had so "helpfully" supplied from his religious texts. It had been on a purely voluntary basis, though that was of scant comfort to her now, and those who had donated their eggs and sperm had been well compensated, less generously if it emerged that they were unsuitable candidates for the programme. Caoimhe had been angry at the transactional nature of what had occurred, even as she understood the necessity of it. Even then at the eleventh hour when the crisis was far too large to ignore any longer, money had been the primary motivator for most to act. The chance of salvation, however slim, had been the other. There was only a very finite amount of room on each ship. Storing genetic samples was far less consuming than hosting fully grown people. But they had to take some. After all, if they had merely wanted to replicate humans they could have cloned themselves a billion times over. That wasn't the objective, though it was still the very last failsafe that they had. Collectively it had been agreed that they wanted to fix what they had broken if at all possible, to be able to reproduce as most mammals do. There had been riots when the populace had figured out what was happening. Cities, governments all burned away in the face of impotent rage and fear. But by that time the chosen fertile few had already been in orbit, surreptitiously ferried up to the stations over months and years, barely a goodbye said to their cradle of life as it fell into chaos and flame below them.

Of course, some had believed that the answer was to give up, to accept the fate coming to them. Extinction - no longer slow and drawn out but imminent and real. Caoimhe couldn't truly accept that, though. The ever searching, ever questioning scientist in her wouldn't allow it. The cracking of the human genome had been the first tentative step on the road to manipulating the human genome and that opened up so many possibilities to explore. So much potential for their future. When it had first come about some wild and eccentric experiments had occurred in telepathy, precognition, heightened extrasensory perception, some even decided to see if they could emulate cephalopods and change their outward colours to match their environment or inner emotions. This had been before the true horror of their looming demise had been clear, when some had seen the marketing potential for such things and dreamt of selling superhuman powers to the highest bidder. All else had been put on the back burner eventually, the only priority to perpetuate instead. Those experiments seemed...fanciful now. A relic of a bygone era when whimsy was still to be indulged.

Caoimhe rose from her chair and stretched, pain tinged relief rippling through her as bones finally crackled into their proper position again after hours of being hunched in an unnatural position over her desk. She couldn't sit here and ruminate all day. She needed to check the nurseries and check in with Caleb. He was responsible for their plant life , every bit as precious as the human for obvious reasons. She had been calling most of the shots on this mission thus far, but had made a point of working closely with him as much as possible. Once they had found their home, his expertise would come to the fore as they began the process of actually bedding in and surviving wherever it was they would end up. She didn't agree with a lot of what he found fascinating or relevant within his ancient holy books, but then again she understood the need to cling to something - especially something of the old world. As long as it didn't interfere with the work, she could put up with his eccentricities. She sighed heavily at the anticipation of the stretch of work ahead and exited her tiny personal room.

*** *** ***

"Professor Alarie!"

Caoimhe heard her name hissed softly through the velvet dark of the night. Her brain was slow to react, rising through sleep into wakefulness far too slowly for the liking of whomever was trying to get her attention.

"Professor! Professor Alarie! Caoimhe!!!"

It was one of the lab techs, she realised as she blearily dragged herself from her horizontal position to sit on the edge of her bunk. What was his name? Doug? Don? "I'm awake," she replied, her voice a little hoarse from dehydration.

"He's losing the child," came the panicked tone and at that Caoimhe was now fully awake. Fuck. She dragged her clothes on and flung the door open, chasing the young man who was already halfway down the sterile white corridor and heading toward the surgical ward.

They had landed on the habitable moon three weeks ago and were prepping to make their first tentative steps out onto that world. Scans had shown bird and insect life, but no large land or marine creatures that might pose a threat to their safety. Both she and Caleb had agreed to take it slow - better to sit tight within the walls of their ship for a while and make absolutely sure they weren't going to be paid a visit by something or someone that they couldn't handle. Some were finding the pressure hard to take - after so many years in space, they were desperate to find a home, somewhere to set down, breathe non-recycled air, walk on real dirt. The FTL drives had enabled them to skip across the galaxy of course, had negated the need for cryostasis while ensuring that the on board community could continue to work toward their goal. Even so, it had been a long time since they had come across any kind of potential place to live and the mood on board was tense, uneasy. The feeling of a knife edge permeated everything.

Caoimhe had hoped that some more successful live births might well raise the spirits of all, remind them of the much larger stakes than their own personal comforts. Several of those without natural uteruses had volunteered to try to bring babies to term in simulated wombs that had been surgically implanted within them, hoping to take the pressure off everyone else, to be more than living storage for sperm. The well documented and seemingly irreversible degradation of the Y chromosome appeared to interfere with these simulated uteruses however, and the weakness of the Y spermatozoa in comparison with X spermatozoa seemed to provide some insight in to why those bodies could not support life as well as others. But there was no time anymore, no time to investigate and experiment and find out exactly why there was such a high rate of failure to try to fix it. Caleb tried to quote some idiocy from his texts at her - something about certain bodies being "designed" for certain purposes. All nonsense of course. Biology was a messy thing and could rarely be viewed in such black and white terms. But whatever the outcome of tonight, she would put a stop to this particular branch of research. They had lost two foetuses and one parent and they simply could not afford to lose anyone else. Besides, medical intervention was usually a necessity in these cases. And they needed to move away from that avenue. She had hoped for a few more healthy children before she called time, but it couldn't be helped.

She washed her hands, shoved a surgical gown over her clothes, put a mask and gloves on and entered the theatre.

*** *** ***

"Well...um. I don't know what to say. Again. These...these past few weeks have been incredible in many ways. And heartbreaking in others. We managed to save the child. Barely. She was born at twenty eight weeks. A true twenty eight weeks, not via accelerated growth. She has been doing well since. He did not survive. We had to make a choice. And he insisted we choose his daughter. It was the right thing to do, I know that. And we have stored his organs and his blood and his sperm. He will live on and will assist others through his passing. But still the guilt is relentless. How much more death must we witness to perpetuate life? It seems the height of cruelty.

But on to brighter subjects. Most of the multiple births have gone extremely well. A total of thirty four infants were born to eight adults. We only lost two babies. Heartbreaking though it is, that ratio gives me hope. The smaller children are doing well too. Twelve from twelve and only four incubators needed. They are sturdy and healthy, which is what matters. Next...I have some ideas. I went back to the very start of my research, the earliest concepts I drew up. Some are ethically questionable, some medically improbable, but some...some might just work. I am interested in making conception itself easier. Perhaps through manipulation of menstrual cycles - regularly allowing more than one egg to be released at a time, or perhaps shortening the cycle so that eggs are released more frequently - although frankly I am loath to make that particular ordeal any more unpleasant if it can be avoided.

Which brings me on to the male refractory period. Why have one at all? If the need for that could be removed, wouldn't the chances of conception be greater, even if the sperm was somewhat degraded? I will need to do some research into this. But the test subjects we brought were all chosen precisely for their child making and bearing potentials, so the chances of their ejaculate being of poor quality is low. I wonder if any of the technicians would volunteer. After all, it hardly seems a terrible gift to bestow...but human trials would be quite a time away and I would need to put this forward to the others on board to hear their thoughts. We cannot start down unethical paths so soon after landing on our new home.

And what a home! The other delight of the past couple of weeks. The moon is lush, temperate, seemingly perfect for us. There are several large freshwater lakes. We have tested the waters repeatedly, filtered and boiled and distilled to make it as safe as possible. When we drink it, there is a tang of something...something distinct. It doesn't taste like any water we have ever known. There is a tiny hint of...well, it tastes to me like eucalyptus. It is quite delicious. Perhaps its just because I am finally drinking something that hasn't already passed through hundreds of kidneys! We have been drinking this water for a week with no ill effects. I am daring to hope once again.

We still do not go outside without full environmental suits and helmets on. All scans point to breathable air - the composition percentages slightly off what we are used to, but nothing that will cause us harm. Deconstruction of the outer parts of the ship has now begun. The hold was made overly large for this very purpose. Now we have arrived, we have begun to transform it into the hub of a habitation area. It will connect first to some sleeping quarters for those who are working on construction, then our galley and then to the hydroponics bays, arboretum and plant nurseries. The arboretum seems almost redundant. The trees here are enormous - beautiful. Trunks metres across, yellow and green leaves far above, thick, twisted branches all the way down. They look so inviting, like we should be climbing them. The primal, genetical call of our distant ancestors across time. And while I keep referring to "we", I personally have not explored, merely viewed the footage taken by others and observed what I can through the viewports. My work keeps me firmly tied to the labs and surgical wards right now, and neither of those will be moving from the core structure of the ship any time soon. I do envy those who can go out. I will have to earn that particular luxury. But my time will come.

The GAIA tanks are almost ready to be decanted. I debated simulating a navel with the next batch, in an attempt to further integration. If they can't tell who was grown in the tank and who was grown in the womb, perhaps there will be less tension on board. Personally, I find the scars on their backs quite beautiful. They're all non - functional marks anyway. Who cares what they look like? People get hung up on the most inane things."

*** *** ***

"It has been several months since my last entry. Work has been frantic, unceasing. When I am not in the lab I am in the galley and when I am not in the galley I am sleeping, though those occasions seem to be few and far between. I have not had a breath to think of anything else except what must be done. I presented my idea for the refractory experiment to the other scientists on board and they too saw the potential that I had. We worked tirelessly and very shortly the mice we experimented on were able to survive the physical change. Admittedly we rushed human trials, as everything is rushed now. We um...well I hadn't counted on the psychological effects of such a change."

Caoimhe halted, shook her head at the horrific memory of what had transpired.

"The first volunteer...he...he went insane. His desire took over and he...killed himself in the end. He couldn't switch it off, it was as if because he could continue he had to, regardless of how exhausted he was. Or how willing his partners were. We isolated him for his crimes. This isn't a prison ship, we had nowhere truly suitable. We thought he would calm, that we could give him drugs, therapy, something to rein him back. But by the time we came to see him the next morning he had torn strips from his bedding and-"

She ran a shaking hand over her tired, puffy eyes and swallowed thickly before continuing her voice low and defeated.

"They dismissed my other ideas out of hand and called an immediate halt to the experiment. But I know it has merit. If I can just tweak it in the mice, I know we can make it work. There are so few unmitigated successes in Science. Surely they must know that. I just need time. More time. And then, when I am successful perhaps they will revisit my other ideas. I must go...I must get back to it. I can feel it begin to consume my mind. Obsession is knocking. Perhaps I will take a trip outside soon. Just to have a break from those cold, white walls and glaring lights. In fact-"

She broke off again and sat, pensive. When was the last time she had been in any other part of the ship? Was there even a ship anymore? How were the habitation sections coming along? She hadn't even seen Caleb for...days? Maybe weeks. She shook her head, trying to dislodge the bleary fog of weariness and the seesaw feelings of hope tipping into despair tipping into hope. She needed a break. And she was going to get it.

*** *** ***

"Caoimhe, I'm so glad you could join us!" Caleb's soft voice cut through musings she didn't even realise she was dwelling upon as she approached the locker room next to the airlock.

"Join you?" she asked, perplexed. Caleb's smile faltered to a frown as he took in her slightly disheveled state and her quizzical, not-entirely-present look.

"We are going out for a little botany jaunt," he said gently. "Everyone who wants to come is welcome. Many have been outside and returned unharmed and we are finally satisfied that the atmosphere is breathable and there are no lurking surprises out there fauna wise. Environmental suits are still necessary, but you don't have to wear a helmet. I er...I messaged you about it. Several times. You haven't responded to any of my missives for a while."

"I'm sorry Caleb," she said sincerely. "I was so caught up in this latest round of trials that I forgot...well...everything else. I decided to come out today because I feel that my focus is tipping into an unhealthiness of mind. I need a break."

Caleb nodded, relief visible in his eyes. "That's good," he replied, his tone soothing. He leaned closer to her and lowered his voice conspiratorially. "I heard about what happened. I just want you to know that no one blames you. You are under such pressure and these things can never be so precise...its why we conduct tests and experiments after all. At least we know it not to be a viable avenue. We can move on from it."

A flare of anger surged in her chest at his words and at the tone she now felt was patronising in the extreme. What could he possibly know about her work? Or how much pressure she was under? He who grubbed in the dirt day after day while she was trying to save an entire species? She suddenly saw the afternoon stretch ahead of her - Caleb bleating about his philosophy, about how God had blessed them with such a place...what had he taken to calling it? Eden? Elan? Something he had picked up anyway. They would walk and he would want her to talk about what she was working on and want to talk about what he was working on and the dozens of people out with them would all be exclaiming over the place and making noise...Caoimhe could feel the beginnings of a headache just at the imagining of it all and her energy left her at precisely the same time as her enthusiasm for this walk. She wanted to be alone. She would go out when the shine had begun to wear off for everyone, when she could be at peace out there. Until then...well it wasn't as though she didn't have enough to do.

Caleb had continued to talk when she had not and she broke into his speech, not caring how rude it was.

"I'm sorry Caleb, but I feel a little unwell," she announced. "I will defer this time. But I will go out very soon. I just...I need to lie down."

She vaguely thought she heard Caleb try to say something as she departed, but by that time Caoimhe was back in the well of her mind, her thoughts already turning to the myriad of problems they faced.

*** *** ***

It started slowly, an insidious oozing. Seeping that began to saturate. Trivial arguments that should have been resolved and forgotten about. Clashes in personality that had previously been amicable enough and now seemed insurmountable. Long term partners suddenly separating, citing irreconcilable differences and moving into different spheres of the habitat. Lively chatter and laughter replaced first with sullen silence and then angry words. The cloud settled upon the settlement and no one realised the mistake that had been made until it was far too late.

Certainly not Caoimhe. After her interaction with Caleb she had locked herself away again in her lab, this time bringing a supply of ration bars, water, and setting up a makeshift bed within the rooms so she could throw herself into her work ever more intensely. A part of her realised that she was in too deep, that she should try to find her way back to others, but the greater part was still grieving the loss of her lab tech volunteer. She had done that to him. And she owed him and everyone else to put it right.

Besides, she knew there could be a breakthrough, they were so close, she could almost taste the victory...She spent most of her time with her headphones on and laptop close, blocking out the audible and visual of everything except her tasks. Those few times a message notification flicked up she ignored it. Ignored too the multiple missed call notifications that appeared one day after she had fallen asleep in front of the screen, headphones blaring the soothing sounds of long-dead oceans into her mind. If they really need me, they'll call back. Or come to visit, she rationalised as she returned to her projects.

When she finally surfaced back to her surroundings it was only because she realised she had run out of water. She glanced at the date on her computer and was shocked to discover that she had closeted herself for eight whole days. She stood, her legs protesting at their lack of proper exercise. It was definitely time to step outside of the lab again. She had made excellent progress, but her mind was beginning to falter and she needed a change of scenery. She briefly wondered why she had received no visitors in that whole time - no Caleb, no lab techs, no happy parents with newborns - but she quickly realised that they must have thought her upset, sulking over her failure. The fact that she had ignored all attempts at contact couldn't have helped, nor had the way she had been so dismissive of Caleb the last time she had seen him. Shame flooded her as she realised that she owed him an apology. He had always been her friend, despite their differences. He hadn't deserved being brushed off that way.

The door to her lab opened with a sprightly tone as it always did and Caoimhe halted in the face of something peculiar. A gurney had been pushed up against her door. She peered out into the corridor, first one way and then the other. There seemed to be nothing else out of place. She pushed it gently out of the way, over to the opposite wall. Someone's idea of a prank maybe? There wasn't a whole lot of room down this corridor though, and it would have taken someone unnecessary effort to get it there from the surgical ward. And it was a poor prank at best. Her door slid open sideways, there was no chance of either it or her colliding with the gurney. She set off down the corridor toward the hydroponic bay, a tickle of unsettled feeling at the back of her skull.

That tickle became a trickle down her spine and into her gut as she progressed. Something was definitely wrong. Where was everyone? Why was it so quiet? She passed a viewport without really seeing what was beyond as her mind ticked over, then she froze and very slowly walked backward to look through it, her eyes wide in shock. Parts of the cannibalised cargo hold were still recognisable. Work had apparently progressed well, and several branching corridors had been constructed from that main atrium - five that she could see. Only two of those ended in actual rooms. Two were still open ended, coming out into the lushness of the moon itself. One led into a partially completed room and it was this that had caught her attention. It was like a stage play, a sliver of incongruous modernity and soulless technology against a backdrop of verdant, green, overwhelming natural life. A tiny opening into a different world, inviting her to observe a moment frozen in time.

The endless sterile white that she had come to expect, and she now realised took for granted, was sullied. Heavy sprays of black that she knew had once been red decorated the walls like an abominable Rorschach test - one where death was all that could be deduced. Three bodies lay heavy and unmoving on the floor, the breeze softly rippling through hair and clothing. One still clutched a welding tool, the stain at the tip clearly visible against the (mostly) white of the tiling even a hundred metres away as she was. She couldn't tear her eyes away, and the more she looked the more she saw. There a hammer, a puddle of gore surrounding it incriminatingly. There a table turned on to its side, presumably an attempt at defence given how battered and bloody the top of it was. There an arm, apparently ripped from its socket and flung clean across the room, though she could clearly see it was extraneous, given that all three bodies already had a full complement of limbs...

She gasped, air unable to fill her lungs, bile rising heavily through her gullet, dry mouth, pounding head...she bent over and retched, the small amount of rations consumed hours before coming back up to stain this pristine floor too. When she straightened, she realised she was no longer alone. Caleb was ahead of her in the corridor, watching her as she might observe a vaguely interesting yet not unexpected chemical reaction. He had an extremely large, extremely sharp pair of shears in his hand. Caoimhe's eyes flicked from them to his face and back again. She felt as if she were frozen to the spot, waiting for him to make the first move, for him to dictate if the moment would descend into a madness of the sort she suspected had occurred out there.

"Caoimhe." His voice was hoarse, as though he had been silent for too long. Or screaming came a distinctly unhelpful voice in the back of her mind. "At last."

"What's happened, Caleb?" she asked, her voice soft with fear and sorrow.

He laughed, and it wasn't his usual bird like trill. It was deeper, less free, more knowing. "What indeed? And where have you been throughout might be a more pressing question." He advanced a few steps and she retreated in kind. He hesitated and then looked down at the shears in his hand, seeming to notice them for the first time. A succession of emotion passed over his face - surprise, sadness, fatigue and finally determination as he looked back up at her. "Where have you been, Caoimhe?" he asked again, his voice now low and menacing.

"I was...In...In my lab," she mananged to stammer out, still shuffling backward in increments she hoped he wouldn't notice.

"Your lab," he echoed flatly. "Your lab?! And you didn't notice anything?"

"Notice what? Caleb, please. You're scaring me!"

"Where. Were. You?" he asked again, advancing further.

"In my lab! I told you! I was...I was working on the refractory problem. We were so close...I thought If I could just try again-"

"You didn't hear the running? The screaming? The attempts at communication? Is that what you're expecting me to believe Caoimhe?"

"Yes! Goddamnit Caleb, yes!" she yelled, desperately. "I was in there for over a week! Listening to notes and music, typing, conducting tests...I lost track of everything. You know how it is when you get hold of something like that, its as if the rest of the world fades! I spoke with you that day about going outside and then I grabbed supplies and I locked myself away. And when I got out today someone had wedged a gurney against my door and I'm seeing DEAD BODIES outside and your behaviour is quite frankly alarming and I don't understand!" She stood there, chest heaving, her eyes desperately searching Caleb's face for a single clue - either about what had occurred or about what his next move would be.

He stared at her for several seconds then seemed to wilt, semi collapsing against the wall, the shears still clutched in his hand and his head bowed. "Going outside," he mumbled bitterly, his voice so quiet that Caoimhe had to strain to hear him even over the ringing silence that had fallen. "That was the beginning of it." He straightened with visible effort, leaning against the wall fully now, his head tipped toward the ceiling as if he couldn't bear to look at her while he spoke. "It seems so long ago now...but your little tantrum saved us both," he declared colourlessly. "After you left, I didn't much fancy a walk either. My enthusiasm departed with you and instead I found myself worried about whatever it was you were going through. I decided that I would go out with a later group - send someone from hydroponics in my stead to scout for potential edible vegetation." His head lolled to the side, finally meeting her gaze and his eyes were now expressive - full of sorrow and a gathering of tears. "Whatever is out there, our scanners can't detect it," he whispered. "Its in the soil, or the pollen, perhaps even the air itself. Samples upon samples upon samples have been taken and tested in every conceivable way and they are all perfectly normal. But they weren't - those who went out without their helmets I mean. They weren't normal when they came back. They were...fidgety. Restless. Dissatisfied. Spoiling for arguments. Those arguments quickly turned violent. Fatal. Well you've seen-" Caleb gestured vaguely over his shoulder at the viewpoint behind him. "We couldn't stop them. Couldn't reason with them, couldn't even contain them. Everyone who tried ended up dead. They just went beserk, no limit to their strength in their madness. We realised the correlation fairly quickly. Disinfected the airlock. Burned the suits that had been used and decontaminated the others. But eventually we had to separate people. Those who had been out without protection and those who hadn't. It...it degenerated so quickly. Everything just...fell apart. Thankfully, whatever it was and however it worked it seemed contained to those who had been in direct contact with the outside. There was no cross contamination. We cut off the habitation side. Shored it up. Welded everything shut. And then we listened to them tear each other apart." His voice broke on the last sentence, tears fully streaming down his face now.

She could feel how slack her face had gone. The scientist in her was screaming questions about viruses and if there was a possibility that this was not a natural occurrence but some sort of weapon and how on earth this was going to impact their projects. But only one question emerged from her, one terrible question that she could barely get out past the lump in her throat and the quivering of her lips. "How many?"

"Between those who were directly affected and those that they killed...we lost about two thirds of us," Caleb confessed quietly, and Caoimhe gave a loud sob and collapsed against the corridor wall too. Two thirds. There hadn't been that many of them to begin with. More than half of their precious cargo. More than half of their numbers.

"The children?" She forced the question out, needing to hear but not wanting to know the answer.

"They're fine," came the reply, and a knot she didn't even realise had been there loosened in her chest allowing tears to fall freely down her face for the first time in many years. Thank God. Thank God they were fine. Caleb appeared in front of her and she was so loose limbed and exhausted from the weeks of unending toil and the catastrophic news she had received, she couldn't even find it in herself to respond with fear to the shears that he was holding.

"I won't tell you that it's okay," he said bluntly. "It's not. But we have the labs and the tanks and the hydroponics. Most of the ship is still intact. We can leave, get away and-"

"No." Caleb looked at her quizzically. "We can't," she elaborated. "At least not yet. I have too many expectant parents...At least...at least I hope I still..."

Caleb nodded and touched her shoulder reassuringly. "They're safe too," he confirmed. "We kept them with the children and babies, kept them away from everything."

She nodded numbly, tears still streaming down her face. "Then they can't go through takeoff. I won't risk them. We need to do the best we can here. Use the tanks as much as we can. Teach and nurture. Prepare and grow our numbers. Then when we have a crew again we can leave, find somewhere better. Ensure that this doesn't happen again."

"Caoimhe-" he began, but she interrupted him.

"Please Caleb," she begged. "I can't lose anyone else. And I don't think you can bear to either."

He stared at her for a few moments, then nodded in clear resignation. "Come on," he invited. "Let's go to the nurseries. The children and remaining parents are left inside. The expeditions were supposed to be staffed by crew only, not civilians. But some of them just...they just wanted to see..." His voice trailed off, hopeless with grief.

They began to walk in silence - back down the corridor toward Caoimhe's lab and onward to where the tanks and nurseries were situated. As they passed her room, Caoimhe heard her voice speak as if coming from miles away. "How did that gurney get against my door?"

Caleb made a noise that could have been a hiccup or a snort. "I put it there," he confessed. "When the chaos began to descend, of course I tried to contact you. I pounded on your door, rang the bell, tried to guess the code. Nothing. I assumed that you had found your way out after all and gotten caught up in what was happening. At the very start we attempted to treat the afflicted. The gurney was part of an abandoned attempt to bring someone into the medical bay. When we realised what we were up against, we collectively made the decision that we could not allow those people anywhere near the children. That's when we herded them, sealed them into the habitation section. When I next passed this way I made another attempt at entry into your lab and when I could not I placed the gurney against your door. I don't even know why. A marker, perhaps? So that if your door ever did open and someone emerged, I would know. It worked too." A wan shadow of Caleb's old smile flitted across his lips. "The movement of the gurney drew my eye to the screen monitoring outside your room. It's how I knew to meet you here." She opened her mouth to ask a question, but he continued, correctly anticipating what she was going to say. "A lot of equipment was damaged in those first few days. Including the monitoring equipment that had already been transferred across to habitation. Some of the recordings from the past six weeks were corrupted or destroyed and we don't have an entirely accurate picture of what occurred. That's why we don't have a true account of exactly who was sealed inside, who fled through the forests, who killed whom. All we have is a head count of those left on this side, and a personnel list. I'm glad I can add you to the tally of the living." He gave another watery smile which almost immediately translated into a grimace as his chin began to wobble. "Perhaps its better that we don't have the footage," he added with a shudder. "I've already seen so much that I never...I can't..."

He trailed off, his face pinched and weary. Caoimhe took the hand that didn't contain a weapon and squeezed it, a message of silent solidarity and comfort.

*** *** ***

"Its a life we're rebuilding. Of sorts. I'm sure there are people worse than us out there in the vastness of the universe. But we have all had to make sacrifices. We have all had to erase those boundaries that we swore were immutable. Morality cannot exist in a vacuum, cannot exist when we face such a grim reality as this. Some chose their deaths instead. They couldn't live with what they had witnessed, the loss of those dear to them, the notion of potentially never leaving what is left of the ship again. Of course, we have salvaged what we can of them to assist us. Nothing is ever wasted here.

All that exists is the work and finally my ideas have been met with greater enthusiasm than I could ever have predicted. Two distinct wombs within one person. A revival of some of the more supposedly frivolous genetic manipulations with chameleons and cephalopods so that there is a physical manifestation upon the skin when someone genetically compatible is near. Making all female presenting genitalia internal, so that there is more room to give birth vaginally - after all a few extra centimetres can be life or death without medical intervention. These experiments are currently in progress, with varying levels of success. And all it took to make it happen was the near-total destruction of our little corner of civilisation.

Caleb and I have taken charge as joint leaders of the rest. They need to be led, shepherded if you will. Their primary purpose now is to perpetuate. And while a part of me is disgusted about reducing whole people to this one act, that part is small and growing weaker. I find my thoughts flinty these days, my heart like granite. And since we cannot be sure what caused the madness within us, I cannot be sure that it is not an offshoot of the same. Or perhaps it is merely pragmatism. Regardless, I cannot find it in myself to care about those moral judgments as much as I once did. It is an irony that I have begun to find some comfort in Caleb's religious texts while he himself has outright rejected them, unable to maintain faith in the face of what he has seen and done. We still get along well. I am glad that here, at what feels like the end of all things, I have a friend such as him. His child is strong, healthy, growing within me day by day.

I say me...

Secrets abound, even now.

I took it upon myself to keep back a few of the GAIA tanks for my own use. Caleb is the only one who knows what they are truly for, though we will be unable to keep it hidden forever. The third batch of clones are coming along nicely and these ones are the most precious of all. I have attempted a basic memory transfer, which seems to have been well received. No longer will we have to spend years teaching them what I already know - they shall be born with that knowledge and can pick up the work immediately. Caleb had no interest in physical intimacies and so his sperm was matched with an egg donor from our database and implanted into one of the first set of clones, the ones with the physical modifications I have begun to perfect. I do not wish to experiment on anyone unnecessarily. Thus, my clones seem perfect. After all, they are me and I give my consent. And we are so few now...the babies and children outnumber the adults by some margin. Someone has to take care of them all. And someone has to begin rebuilding the ship. I already have plans for batch number four. If the memory transfers are successful this time around, I shall take the transcriptions and logs from the engineers that we lost and attempt to upload them into the next few mes. From my limited understanding of these things, it seems that the FTL drives are still working perfectly and with a little tweaking we can get the core of the ship back to being space-worthy.

Caleb is right. We cannot stay on this death trap forever. We cannot live with the ghosts of our mistakes forever. We must be bold, soldier on. Away into a future with a brighter prospect.

#starman ezra #tagging this is weird #prospect fanfiction #prospect fanfic #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra prospect fanfic

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snoopdoodle · 3 years

Text

collab with : @sunflowerdaisybee

so glad we could do this!!

======

Stop I live for this type of stuff :D also if you like it enough id love to do a part 2 !!

-----

Dad, but not

SECOND PART \\ THIRD PART

platonic!ranboo x dad!reader

pronouns: he/him

summary: Ranboo's dad (reader) is in town.

You raised Ranboo, like a father would to a child. Although, you weren't his birth-father, or related to him in anyway possible, he still considered you his dad. You had gon through all of his accomplishments with himHe’d brag about you on and no on stream, and when chat would ask to mean you, he'd flat out reject their request with a hard no…. seriously, there's a compilation of it on youtube. He had told you this previously, but soon enough, he would be leaving for the UK to meet up with his friends, you remember their names. Tommy, Tubbo, and Philza. You think back to it.

“I wish you could come with me, dad. You and Phil would get along well…. Probably.” He had said, and you smiled at the thought, it was funny to you. Meeting up with your… kid’s friends and having nothing to talk about. “What would we talk about? I don’t enjoy playing Minecraft like those people.” You spoke, laughing as Ranboo groaned. You laughed whole-heartedly again as you heard the banging on his desk. It was probably his fist. You’d yet to hell him, but you’d be going to Europe for a business trip in a few weeks. Actually, it was the same week as him. It was just 2 days off that your company scheduled the flight. You were ready to tell him, but you heard his “Streaming alarm” go off, so you had to wait.

Your thoughts were ripped away from you by a ping from your phone. You smiled as you looked at it, it was Ranboo and his friend, Tubbo, in the car. Poor kid, he was too tall for the car so he had to slouch down a mile. It made you laugh, so you sent a simple text, being tired and not knowing how to work the phone well enough when you’re sleepy.

My kid sent a message at 6:13am, 9/14/21

-photo.jpeg

You sent a message at 6:15am, 9/14/21

Lol, happy you’re happy, kid. Keep making me laugh and I won’t be able to sleep.

My kid sent a message at 6:16am, 9/14/21

JNKJNA LOVE YOY TO DAAD

You sent a message at 6:16am, 9/14/21

Grammar, you’re smart.

My kid sent a message at 6:17am, 9/14/21

Ok grandpa, love you too. 🙄

You sent a message at 6:16am, 9/14/21

That’s my boy. Love ya’, kid. ❤

You smiled at your phone, falling asleep shortly after. You’d need it for the 12 hour plane ride.

You woke up tired, there was still 3 hours left on the plane ride. The sun was shining in your face and you could see the clouds close up. You unplugged your phone from the airplane’s charger and chuckled as you saw the notifications. “7 unread messages from him? Jeez kid, I was asleep.” You laughed again as you read the messages. “Met with Tommy, watched a movie, cat… jeez, updating me on every part of your life, aren’t we.” you mumbled. It was funny, so the person beside you laughed. “Sorry, sorry, I heard your mumbling and I thought it was funny, I’m Kristin.” The woman smiled and held out her hand for a handshake. You contoured your body to shake her hand. She smiled and laughed again, shaking her head.

You smiled at the woman, and decided to start a conversation. “So,” you started, “Why are you headed to England?” She smiled, opening her phone. “Well, I’m on my way to see my husband. Just doing a surprise visit, then heading back to work in America.” She spoke, pulling up an image of her husband. ‘He looks familiar…’ You thought before it hit you. “Oh… my lord..” You dragged out, smiling. “Do you know Ranboo? Has your husband talked about him?” You asked. She looked confused, but nodded. You smiled even wider, happy about this situation. “I’m Ranboo’s dad. Well, not biologically, but I know he talks about me in his streams.” Kristin’s eyes lit up in delight and realization, and you two started talking while exchanging phone numbers in the process.

By the time you all stopped talking, the plane had landed and you were both smiling messes. You were happy to be seated by someone who could understand living with a streamer. “Bye Kristin!” You yelled as she walked to her car. Your face blossomed with a smile as she turned around and waved back. You went to the baggage claim area, walking to go get your [color] bag. You grinned as you saw your bag, the doodles from ranboo were littered on the [color] bag. Speed walking over to it, you picked it up and set it on the floor. Adjusting the backpack that was settled on your shoulders, you grabbed the suitcase’s handle and sped off to find your company’s rental car. You walked through the crowds, laughing as you could see over almost everyones’ head. You were really tall amongst these people, at the raging height of 6’2.

You smirked as you reached your company’s car, biting the inner part of your lips. You hopped into the car, it was a Subaru, so this should be fun. You drove right out of the parking garage and sped to your hotel. Once you go there, unpacking all of your things, you decide to walk around the town. You were feeling pretty hungry after only being able to eat crummy plane food, so you wme with your next best bet. Although, throughout this whole time, you didn't tell Ranboo that you would be in England. You only realized this when you heard him. “Y/N?” Your eyes shot open, and you turned around to face him. You could see his confused smile through his mask. “Y/N?” He asked again, and this time you walked right to him, dragged him down, and nuggied his head. “Kid! You scared the crap outta me!” You yelled. Ranboo was hitting your hand, wanting you to let go.

“Hey, man. Get off our friend.” A dark voice spoke. You turned to look at who it was, but a wave of surprise hit you. It was Tommy, with Tubbo and Wilbur behind him. You frowned and flicked Ranboo on his forehead. His hands rushed to cover the spot. “Ow! What the hell, dad?!” The confusion and relief washed over the group’s faces. They know you're not a stranger, but you're his dad? Realization hit Tubbo before anyone else. “Wait!! You're the guy ranboo always talks about on streams!” He shouted. Tommy and Wilbur realized this as well, and smiled. “Oh yeah, I should probably introduce myself.” You started, clearing your throat. “I’m Ranboo's dad…. but not.” You said. The 3 boys gave a roar of laughter to that sentence, and you had to give your two cents of chuckles as well. These next weeks are gonna be amazing.

#x male reader #male reader #platonic!ranboo #platonic bench trio #platonic!ranboo x reader #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #platonic tubbo #dsmp ranboo #dad!reader #male!reader

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bubbledumbbinch · 3 years

Text

Yandere! Idia Shroud x Camgirl! Reader SMUT

A/N: Hello! This is my first fic I've posted on tumblr, and I'm not used to using it at all. I hope this turned out okay and you enjoy! This is a College AU, implied magicless world, and reader is a camgirl.

This fic is purely 18+, minors do not interact.

Word Count: ~4.4k

Warnings: dubcon, brief mention of blood, non consensual drug use (aphrodisiacs)

Friday night, 11:24pm, 6 minutes before your scheduled time to start “work”. You had just finished putting on your makeup and outfit, now trying to hype yourself up in the mirror.

'I can do this. This is gonna be a great show!' You told yourself, while staring at your reflection wearing the revealing outfit. Tonight’s choice was a catgirl maid costume; the maid dress just barely covering your body and showing a large amount of chest. A choker with a bell on it, cat ears, and thigh high socks.

Giving yourself a nod of encouragement, you sat down in the chair in front of your desk, where your laptop and webcam were situated, along with your ring lights, one at each side of the desk so you were well lit for the camera. Making sure you were logged into the site, your camera angle looked good, and your laptop was charging, you waited.

You loved your side gig as a camgirl. You were able to appeal to multiple people’s sexual desires while also being able to bring yourself to pleasure, sometimes more than once per stream, if there were enough donations of course. You were also able to make a decent amount of money while doing this side job, paying for college while having fun was a pretty big plus. And, if you were gonna be honest, the validation of being attractive to so many people really made you feel a lot better about yourself.

You quickly noticed your clock switch to 11:30pm. Time to start. You clicked on the set of buttons you pretty much knew by heart to get the show started. Once it did, you started up some music to fill the silence. Just some cute electronic music to dance in your chair to while you wait for the viewers to come in. You didn’t really have as many as the big camgirls but you had a few loyal people come and watch your streams, which set your heart at ease.

5 viewers

cay-kun @ 11:31pm: wooow y/n-chan, you look so cute! excited for tonight’s show~

User18535 @ 11:32pm: fuck you’re so goddamn cute, i love your tits. can’t wait to see what that pussy looks like

10 viewers

You playfully giggled while reading the last message, winking and sticking your tongue out while flashing the camera your panties from under your skirt. While waiting for more people to join, you also made a point to talk to your viewers, asking about their day and what they’ve been up to recently, which they loved you for.

25 viewers

User58273 @ 11:34pm: You look so kawaii, I wish I could have you service me.

40 viewers

Glancing at the viewer count, you decide to officially start.

“Hi hiii~ I’m so happy to see you all here tonight! Let’s have some fun, hmm?” you started playfully. “Do you guys like my outfit?” Messages of “yes” and “yeah baby”s began flooding the chat and you grinned. “Well, I have something that will be a real treat for you all~”

You reached over to grab something that couldn’t be seen by the camera or the viewers.

~~~~~

Idia was browsing through the site full of nude streamers, trying to find a person to watch so he could relieve his tension from this week. It was midterms season and his Computer Science teachers were giving him hell by making him do in person presentations, exams, and assignments that kept piling up. It took a lot of time away from gaming and side projects of coding his own programs. He also unfortunately didn’t have his little brother Ortho with him in college, as the university didn’t allow them both to attend “as one student”. Ortho definitely eased some stress as someone he could trust and talk to, but Idia’s parents decided to keep Ortho at home to “prevent Idia from being distracted”, much to his dismay.

Idia was at least blessed to not have a roommate, so he could at least have his own privacy for nights like this. Idia’s eyes landed on a thumbnail of a girl that was dressed in cat ears and a lewd maid outfit and was intrigued. He clicked on the video icon and was met with your figure bent so that your ass was up and legs were spread on the chair you were previously sitting on. The girl on the stream had her panties down to her knees and was currently lubing up a cat tail butt plug.

“Ah, I’ve never used this before so, bear with me, please!” She pleaded, eyes looking directly at the camera. Idia was intrigued now this was her first time using it. He felt like this was perfect timing, almost like she was doing it just for him. Until he saw the comments flooding in from different people who were probably thinking the same way.

“Put it in already”

“Go slow okay~”

“don’t force yourself if you don’t want to! >//<”

“Tch,” Idia scoffed to himself. “Seems like she has simps already. No use in being interested in someo-“

“H- here it goes!” You moaned, starting to slowly shove the length and girth of the butt plug into your tight hole. “Aaanh~ it’s stretching me out...” Your eyes pricked with tears while your face contorted into pure pleasure with a hint of pain, all while staring at the camera. Every so often he could hear the little jingle from the bell on your choker.

Idia felt his pants getting tighter and his palms were starting to sweat. The face you made at him was just too unreal and he needed more. He palmed at his growing erection while you shivered at the feeling of being filled by the toy. Pulling his sweatpants down to his ankles, he started stroking his cock lightly.

cay-kun @ 11:38pm: oh y/n-chan the way that stretches out your hole is so sexy~ definitely taking a screenshot for later!

User39748 @ 11:38pm: SHIT i wish i was there fucking you with that in your ass

Blushing, you turned around so that one of your legs were in the chair while your other was up, effectively showing the camera a view of your pussy and butt plug. “What do you want me to do? I’ll just play with myself until someone makes a donation and tells me what I should do! Highest bidder within the next minute~.” With that, you looked into the camera again while soaking your middle and ring fingers with saliva and bringing them to your clit, rubbing small circles into it.

Idia realized that, even now, he wanted to have some kind of control over you. He had a lot of disposable income, being from a pretty rich family. The blue haired boy grabbed his credit card and began to type.

Ignia has donated $100!

Your eyes widened and you gasped slightly. Idia bit his bottom lip at the sight. “Ah, Ignia! Thank you for the donation, you’re new here! Welcome, what would you like to see me do~?” You smiled while looking at the camera. Idia felt like you were staring into his soul and he was sweating profusely. He thought for a minute, gulped, and decided to send a message.

Ignia @ 11:43pm: I want you to keep watching my messages and do what I say, kitten. First I want you to grab a vibrating dildo if you have one and put it at the lowest setting, then fuck yourself slowly with it.

Idia would never have the balls to be this bold with anybody. But this is the internet, so fuck it, he’ll be truthful and just say what he wanted.

You nodded and proceeded to grab one from the table of toys you had next to your desk, lubed it slightly, and did what he told you to. You moaned at the intrusion and the feeling of being filled. “Mmh, it feels so good..!” You cried out.

Ignia has donated $50!

Ignia @ 11:45pm: And by the way, call me Master. You don’t get to cum until I say so.

You shivered at this stranger’s boldness and quietly spoke, “Yes, master...” you looked away shyly from the camera and closed your eyes for a minute, thrusting the vibrating device in and out of your wetness. A couple of moans slipped through your mouth as you felt your juices spreading onto your legs.

Ignia @ 11:47pm: Faster. Fuck yourself faster for me, kitten, and put it on the medium setting for me.

You did as you were told, fingers trembling to follow what the stranger had told you. Your (h/c) hair was starting to feel moist from your layer of sweat and your body was heating up, causing your breasts to stick to the costume.

Ignia @ 11:49pm: Take your tits out and play with your nipples

You panted heavily and lowered your chest area’s covering, revealing the sheen of sweat around your tits. Flicking your left nipple while working the dildo with your right, your hands were occupied with pleasing yourself as this stranger commanded, moaning out. “Aah, m-master, f-feels so go-ood~!”

Idia was smirking, stroking hard at his cock at the sight and idea of you actually doing what he said almost made him cum then and there, but he stopped himself. He couldn’t help the rapid beating of his heart when you said the last sentence. Idia felt special. The power he had over you was addicting and he wanted to see you push yourself over the edge under his command.

65 viewers

User58273: Fuck this is so hot, I wish I could be your master too

Seeing this comment somehow made Idia seethe. He didn’t want to share you, even though this was his first stream with you. You made him feel special. He started typing out his draft of what to reply to the thirsty viewers.

Draft: Ignia: You stupid bastards, no, I’m not going to share her.

Before Idia could send the message you spoke up in a moaning voice. “*pant* N-no, my master tonight is I-Ignia, haanh~”. You were still playing with your nipples while fucking yourself well with the dildo, a light blush decorated your face and beads of sweat starting to form on the sides of your face and your body.

Idia’s jaw dropped. ‘Does she actually really want me?’ He was getting hot, too hot for his own comfort. Usually he wouldn’t last this long during his sessions but he really wanted to see you fall apart under his command. He paid for it, after all.

“Master~ I’m getting close, I- I wanna cum soon!” You whined, pleading (e/c) orbs staring into the camera with your mouth open from panting heavily.

“Cum already, don’t hold yourself back”

“Just keep going babygirl”

“Let yourself cum”

Once again, Idia scoffed in annoyance, but he noticed you never acknowledged any of the other commenters, waiting patiently for the words to come from him.

Ignia @ 11:55pm: put the toy at the highest setting, fuck yourself til you cum, then keep pumping it while you ride out your climax.

Upon seeing those words, your fingers work to put your toy at the highest setting inside your dripping cunt. You closed your eyes while you try to imagine the user who was giving out the commands, imagining them slapping your ass and fucking you until you could see stars. The feeling of both of your holes being filled was overwhelming now, and the hot feeling built up in your core faster than you realized. Idia could see it too, the heaving of your chest was picking up rapidly.

“M-,, ma- master.! I’m cumming!!!” You shrieked. Closing your eyes with your tongue unintentionally lolling out, you released a silent scream as soon as your orgasm hit. It felt like a knot inside of your body had come undone suddenly. Your orgasm had your pussy clenching around the toy that was still vibrating intensely inside of you, stimulating you longer and making you release high pitched screams.

Hearing your words before cumming had Idia teetering on the edge, but watching your facial expressions and your moans made him finish suddenly with a grunt, his pale cock spurting thick white cum all over his hand. Still, Idia kept stroking his length while you were riding out your high, overstimulating himself to match your actions on the stream.

You pulled out the toy weakly and turned it off, putting it down on a towel next to your desk.

Ignia has donated $5!

Ignia @ 11:59pm: Spread your pussy lips babygirl, I wanna see your tight hole.

User39748 @ 11:59pm: I agree with Ignia

cay-kun @ 12:00am: ah~ I also agree. Let’s see you spread it, hmm~? Oh, can you also do a lil ‘nya!’?

You checked the chat and blushed heavily, post-orgasm shyness now taking over your mind. You hesitantly shifted in the chair while spreading yourself open with your pointer and middle finger, showing off your glistening folds with your lightly abused hole. “Nya...” you held up your other hand to do the signature “catgirl” pose, playfully sticking your tongue out too.

Idia was cleaning himself off but he could feel himself twitch again, staring at your meek form. You were so gorgeous and he really wanted to see more of you, making sure to press the “Follow” button, so he wouldn’t miss another stream.

After a few seconds, you decide to end your show, feeling extremely tired and needing a shower from sweating so much. “Thank you so so much for joining me tonight! I hope you guys have a wonderful rest of your evening~ take care and I hope to see you all soon!”

Small tips ranging between $1-$10 started to flow in along with messages of “take care~” “see you soon!” “great show baby ;)”.

You clicked off and you sighed deeply. Looking at your earnings tonight, you made around $200. This was probably the most you’ve made in one single stream, and $155 of that was from Ignia, a new follower and the one who pretty much commanded your entire show tonight. It really turned you on to have someone do that for you and it was the first time a viewer made you do something that felt so lewd that made you cum so quickly.

You stood up from the chair, cleaned up your desk and toys, and headed for the bathroom. Taking off your makeup in the sink, you jumped into the shower to clean yourself up.

~~~~~

Idia tentatively bit his shirt sleeve, his blue locks framing his face. Something inside of him told him that he needed to talk to you more. He had already typed out a message to send along with his friend request. He was scared - scared of being rejected by someone as pretty as you, especially now that he had already felt so attached to you, or rather, what he’s seen from the stream tonight.

Yellow eyes closed tightly as he clicked to send the friend request to you.

~~~~~

Jumping out of the shower, you throw on a head and body towel and started to brush your teeth. Walking around the room you realized your laptop was still on, and there was a notification box front and center. Curious, you clicked on it.

“One new friend request and message”.

“Friend Request: Ignia

Message: Hey, this is the user from your stream earlier. I just wanted to say I really enjoyed your stream tonight. You seem nice too, so I’d like to get to know you more. If you’re interested just feel free to add me back, no pressure ofc.

Thx

Ignia”

You blinked a few times, pondering what you should do. You had gotten messages from guys before but they only said cheap compliments and asking for private shows. You were single so there wasn’t anybody holding you down and this guy didn’t seem to radiate any bad vibes. His dominant nature over chat really turned you on and you were curious about him, so you decided to accept his friend request and send a reply.

“From: y/n-kitty-cat

Hi there :) I decided to accept your message, cause why not? You shouldn’t be that creepy, right? ;P anyway, I’m glad you enjoyed my stream tonight <3 I hope you can come to future ones too!! I’d like to see you around more ;)

❤️

y/n”

You sent the message and went to the bathroom to finish brushing your teeth and your other nightly routines.

Idia couldn’t believe his eyes - you had actually messaged him back and you were really flirtatious!! That meant he was different in your eyes, right? It has to be true! He was determined to meet up with you, eventually. His dick throbbed at the idea of having you to himself, pleasing him with your mouth, doing all those lewd faces you made on the stream... his mind wandered while he pushed his pants down once again and thought of his muse who was now his “friend”.

~~~~~

After a few days of messaging back and forth, you and Ignia had ended up exchanging numbers and using text to communicate almost daily. You found out things like what your majors in college were, finding out his real name was Idia, which was a pretty unique name, and realizing you were both from the same city. Well, it’s not like Idia hadn’t already done his research - the night he became your friend he had stalked all of your social medias under a throwaway account and scrolled through every photo and bit of information he could find about you. He was becoming so hyper fixated on you he needed to know more, who could blame him? Idia just hoped he would be seeing more of you in your streams so he could watch you get off again, maybe with his assistance.

Unfortunately for you though, you realized you couldn’t stream as much because midterms were also kicking your ass. You apologized to your viewers with a blog post who luckily understood and wished you luck, saying they looked forward to your next show.

Idia couldn’t see your pretty face from the stream, which made him yearn. He told Ortho about his crush on you and when the small boy told Idia to “just tell you the truth and meet up with you!” he wanted to shut down completely. But, he wasn’t completely opposed to the idea of you being in his room, exactly where he wanted you. Sighing, he picked up his phone to send you a text.

Idia: “hey”

Y/n: “hey there! 😉”

Idia: “soo i was wondering if you wanted to hang out sometime”

Y/n: “omg 😱 like irl? I’ve never even heard your voice before lol”

Idia: “ik, i’m a bit shy in person.”

Y/n: “i see, so is the life of a gamer and a shut in?😏😂”

Idia: “hah, yeah i guess lol”

Y/n: “soo, what did you wanna do?”

Idia: “idk, anything you want. Except go outside. And be in public.”

Y/n: “pfft, that takes away like any idea at this point HAHA”

Idia: “ya lol i prefer gaming in my room tbh”

Y/n: “oh, then maybe we can just hang out and play games or something like that?”

Idia: “Yeah, why don’t you come over to my dorm, we could game and eat snacks”

Y/n: “Sounds great! This Friday then, 6pm?”

Idia: “Sure i’ll text you the details later”

Y/n: “Awesome :) see you in a couple days then ;)”

Idia: “cool”

Idia threw himself on his bed and screamed silently into the pillow. Idia wanted more than to just be your friend but unfortunately was also extremely shy, especially when talking to new people in person. But as he was sexually attracted to you, he knew he would have a hard time hiding it from you. He had hoped to initiate some kind of sexual interaction when you met up, wanting to indulge in your sinful reactions himself. He didn’t even want to think about anybody else seeing you like that. Idia was growing possessive and realized that if he were to get you where he wanted you, he needed to do a little bit of digging. Which meant searching the web for something that would help make you more agreeable to something sexual. He knew he himself couldn’t make you agree to it, he was too nervous to initiate that! He knew what he needed - an aphrodisiac.

Composing himself, he got onto his computer and compared his options as well as looking for advice on how to please a woman. His eyes widened and lips trembled as he realized he was definitely way too shy to initiate as much as other men do, but he was determined to try anything if it meant your attention.

~~~~~

Today was finally Friday, and the current time was 5:30pm. You styled your (h/c) locks and put on a light amount of makeup, not as much as you would when you streamed but enough to make yourself feel pretty. You also decided that you still wanted to be cute, even if you and Idia were just friends at this point, and wore a tight crop top, a high waisted black skirt, and some thigh high socks since it was a bit breezy outside. You topped it all off with a (f/c) cardigan so you could at least feel comfortable in the sleeves. Packing your bag, you took one last look at yourself in the mirror, did a little peace sign and smiled, feeling cute as hell. You grabbed your keys and walked out of your dorm, heading towards Idia’s campus.

You parked at the place he told you to and gotten out of your car, looking around for him. Shit, you just realized you didn’t even ask him what he was gonna wear or what he really looked like, which was pretty dumb in hindsight. You did catch a glimpse of a tall lanky guy with fluffy blue hair and a striped t-shirt, who was fumbling around on his phone and didn’t realize you was standing right by him.

“Excuse me,” you interrupted his peace softly, causing him to jump up and squeal in fear. “Oh!! I’n so sorry, I’m just looking for someone and I didn’t know if I was in the right place?”

Idia froze. It really was you, in the flesh, looking at him and taking his appearance in. You were gorgeous, even more so than he would have ever thought, and your voice brought tingles to his spine that made him shudder. Idia realized he was being quiet for a longer than acceptable time and he looked away. “H-hi,, y/n...” he mumbled barely even audible.

“Oh!! Idia? Is that you? Hi!!!” You exclaimed, seemingly really excited. Your mouth was curved into a wide smile too.

“Huh, you sound really enthusiastic...” Idia whispered, thinking he really said it in his own mind instead of out loud.

“Of course I am! I’m finally done with midterms and now I can relax and have fun with my new friend!” You said, bumping your shoulder with him, causing him to hold his breath.

Idia gulped when he realized what you said. Friend. Right, that’s all he was to you. At least for now. But hopefully that would change soon, right?

“Y-yeah. Let’s go inside.” Idia muttered, turning his back and walking.

Based on his demeanor, you almost forgot that Idia was the one who was so dominant during your stream the other week, since his attitude was so shy in real life. But, you pushed that thought to the back of your head, today was gonna be a fun day with a new friend, and that was strictly it. You didn’t really want to make your side job as a sex worker into a big thing that would make real life friendships difficult.

~~~~~

After he led you through the halls of the dorm, he brought you to a door and opened it up. Inside it was a bit messy, but an organized mess, one where the owner definitely knew where everything was. He had a pc setup with multiple monitors, RGB lighting which was mostly set to shades of blue, and a really nice gaming chair to go along with it. He also had a shelf with different manga series along it and other consoles for gaming, a bed, a door that led to a bathroom, and a mini fridge. Pretty nice for someone who lived without a roommate, you thought.

You walked over to his bed and flopped down onto it. Idia couldn’t help but think about the many times he had masturbated to you on those sheets that you were now sitting on. He was wondering what kind of panties you were wearing too, when he was suddenly interrupted.

“So! I guess we should get started on some games, yeah? I think I wanna play a fighting one against you! I’m totally gonna win~” You smiled up at him playfully.

Idia let his personality slip when games were brought up. “Tch, you really think you’re gonna win against me ? Think again.” The blue haired boy smirked down at you, which lit up the fire of competition in your heart.

“Let’s go then, dude.”

~~~~~

After about 15 minutes of close battles but still losing every one, you groaned and put the controller down on the floor where you and Idia were positioned in front of a monitor. You had developed a small sheen of sweat on your face from the stress. “Hey Idia, do you have anything to drink? I’m so thirstyy~” You looked at him and pouted, hoping he would maybe have some soda or water for you.

“A-ah, yes I do...” he stuttered a bit, seemingly nervous about something. He shuffled over to a mini fridge near his desk and brought out a cooler bottle. “Here, I made this sweet tea yesterday and you can drink from it...” Idia handed you the cool bottle and you observed it suspiciously. He was starting to feel his breath hitch and wondered if you had caught on.

“Hm~? Drinking from the same bottle already? So intimate!” You teased him, lightly elbowing his side. “Well, here goes nothing.” You tipped the bottle into your mouth and the tea tasted like sweet peach, with a slightly bitter aftertaste.

“Hm, it’s... interesting. What kind of tea is it?” You inquired, looking at the contents and sniffing it.

“I-it’s a recipe I found online! It looked good so, I decided to make it, I- I thought you would like it...” he shyly put down his head, trying to hide his suspicious nervousness from you.

“Okay... well it’s pretty good! I’ll drink some more, thanks for thinking of me~” you said as you gulped down the drink for a few more seconds. “Mmh! I think that cooled me down, let’s play more rounds!”

Idia looked back at you and sighed in relief. “Y-yeah, let’s do that.” He didn’t know how long it would take to work but at least he could distract his nerves by playing some games.

~~~~~

You started to sweat and feel hot. Unbearably hot. You cleared your throat and pulled off your cardigan and folded it to the side, but it wasn’t enough. The heat spread from your head, to your torso, and to your lower regions. Feeling hot and a deep... itch that you couldn't quite reach, in your crotch, you decide to change the position in which you were sitting, from crossing your legs to having them right underneath you, to feel some sort of friction in that area. You could feel yourself blushing intensely while the blue haired man next to you was still immersed in the game you both were supposed to play.

Watching him, you couldn’t help but notice the way his fingers moved on the controller, his thumbs and pointers expertly moving across it. You started thinking about how they would feel playing with your nipples and clit - wait. ‘What am I even thinking about?! Snap out of it!’ But, you also couldn’t help but think about when you were close to beating him during a round, his voice changed to a lower, frustrated one, and he even let out a little growl. Even now you noticed the way his eyes were so glued to the monitor with a small scowl on his face. Thinking about that sent throbs and heat to your growing wetness.

WINNER: PLAYER 1!

“Fuhehe, I knew I could beat you again~ but for some reason it felt like you weren’t trying as hard this round.” Idia put down his controller, finally took a glance at you, and his breath was caught in his throat.

Your (s/c) body was covered with a layer of sweat, cheeks burning and your eyes looked glossy. You were also panting slightly, rubbing your legs together softly to try to create more friction. “A-ah,, hey... do you think you could lower the temperature in here? It- it’s getting really hot. Maybe I could have more of that cold tea?” You breathed, trying to sound more stable than you were.

Idia was dumbfounded for a second and totally forgot you had drank the tea that he mixed with the aphrodisiacs. He gulped as he leaned closer to your face, observing you. “Is... is there anything else I can help you, w-with?” Idia placed a hand on the floor near your thigh and watched as you tried to scoot away from it.

“D-don’t do that... it’s...,” you whimpered, back now touching the side of his bed as you leaned away from his touch. Since when did he smell so good? His scent radiating from his proximity sent tingles across your body.

“Do what?” Idia experimentally reached out to touch your arm, fingers grazing your back slightly. You couldn’t fight back the moan that slipped out of your mouth. “Haah~ I-Idia...” you breathed, looking at him with pleading eyes. You really weren’t planning on doing anything with your new friend, so why was your body disobeying your mind?

“Y/n... you know you can tell me if there’s a-anything you need.. I’ll help you.” Idia’s eyes were still wide and the way he looked at you made you start craving. You wanted him - no, you NEEDED him to touch you more. You never really thought about it, but, Idia really was attractive. It’s not because of your hazy mindset that you realized it, but the way the blue lights illuminated his pale skin and make his hair almost glow, you were just focusing on it more. He was... cute.

“I-...” you started, looking down at his hand on your arm, and then back at him. Staring at his lips, you felt your arms move around his neck as you pulled him closer. Your lips smashed against each others messily and you released a soft whimper against his mouth. The reality hitting you, you moved your head back suddenly breaking the kiss. Your body was still hot.

“F-first...” Idia was stuttering. “First... kiss...” Idia stared wide eyed at you, lips still trembling. He blushed and turned away, his brows tilted upwards as if he were troubled.

“Oh, oh god, I’m so sorry....” you breathed out, scared you had fucked it up with your friend.

“Haah.. more...” his eyes suddenly turned back to you, seemingly darker than before. “I want more of you, y/n...” with that, he brought his lips to yours again and moved them sloppily against your own. He even took the liberty to bite your bottom lip with his sharp teeth, causing you to yelp. Idia used this opportunity to shove his tongue past your mouth and moved it against your own, causing you to moan in pleasure while you could feel your panties starting to drench.

Idia pulled away from you, cheeks tinted pink. Both of you panted for breath, your clothes now feeling sticky due to sweat. He scanned your blushing figure and saw an opening of your skirt that had shown off your lacy panties. Idia gulped and dove his head towards your clothed pussy, breathing in the essence and shuddering loudly, which made you gasp.

“Idiia, no... we, we shouldn’t...” you whined. But you could feel your body was not agreeing with your words. When the tip of his nose grazed your clit you bucked your hips against his head, letting out a moan at the contact.

He lifted up your skirt to your waist so he could see your facial expressions. Suddenly, his wet tongue experimentally slid up your clothed pussy, piercing yellow eyes locked onto your glazed over eyes. You shrieked at the sensation and felt embarrassed that he could get you like this, and you were still wearing your panties.

“Hhn, you wore these for me, didn’t you..?” Idia said, which made you blush. “No, I- I didn’t...” you muttered weakly, trying to avoid his gaze

Idia’s grip on your thighs suddenly got tighter and he looked up at you with furrowed brows. “Don’t lie to me, kitten. I know you want me, like how you did on the night we met, on your stream.” Idia firmly told you. It seemed like it was more like he was convincing himself. "N-no Idia, I... I don't want to-" you started, until you were interrupted.

Idia’s teeth bit suddenly into your soft thigh, causing it to bleed a bit. You knew it would leave a big mark later. “AH!! F-fuck!!” You grabbed onto his blue hair and felt your pussy clench onto nothing. Why, why are you enjoying this? It was like Idia’s personality had changed, from the shy person you met outside his dorm to a more possessive and rough one. You were a bit scared of him but why was he making you feel so good?

You didn’t have time to think as you felt him move the fabric of your panties to the side so your drenched cunt was fully visible to him. He stared in awe and took in everything - the shape, size, and how wet you were. You brought the back of your hand up to your head and panted with embarrassment. “Idia... mmh...”, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Your body was still wanting more and after your mind was fighting the feeling so much, you decided to let it be. “Please...”

Idia met your eyes and saw how glossy they were. He lifted your body onto the bed so that you were now lying on your back while he was still in front of your crotch. You softly breathed in and out, causing your chest to rise and fall in your sweat soaked top. He snaked a pale hand under your shirt to grope your breast in your lacy bra, cold fingers sending shivers through your hot body. Idia couldn’t resist any longer, he suddenly shoved his wet muscle onto your pussy with fervor. You gasped and threw your head back onto Idia’s plush pillow, and shoved your hand on the back of his head pushing it deeper into your legs. Idia couldn’t contain himself and moaned into your heat, sending vibrations through it. “Oh- aaanh~ Idi-aaa~....” you sighed and whined. He took this opportunity to lower the cup of your bra below your breast and pinch your pert nipple in his fingers.

“Fuck~!” you screamed, feeling hot tears flowing down your face. Your body couldn’t take it much longer. Your core was building a familiar sensation but it was all too overwhelming and coming too fast. “It feels so good!!” You squealed, squeezing your thighs together so you were caging his head. Idia focused his energy lapping hungrily at your clit and then pushed two digits of his free hand through your wet hole, pumping them in and out. Your panting breaths were becoming shorter with each pump.

“Idia~ I’m close!! I’m gonna cum..!” You looked at him between your legs, and he lifted his mouth off of your cunt for a brief second. He stared into your eyes with his yellow ones, which stared at you intensely, licked his lips, and spoke.

“Cum for me then, kitten. Don’t hold back, cum all over my face.” With that, he dove back in and pumped his fingers into your core and flicked his tongue on your sensitive pearl even faster than before. Idia’s hips were rutting on his mattress, precum wetting his undergarments.

“Oh god - I’m cumming, I’m cumming~!!” You screeched and squeezed his head with your thighs, squirting his face and sheets with your cum. His tongue darted around your pussy licking off your juices. You breathed heavily, riding out your high. It took everything in him to stop himself from cumming right then and there - he wanted to save that for later.

Idia leaned up to where you were and kissed you passionately, and you could taste yourself all over his mouth. You moaned at the taste of your own juices on his tongue. Still exhausted from Idia eating you out, your body somehow craved the feeling of being filled. You sat up and got up from the bed and for a second he was afraid you were getting ready to leave. You removed your drenched shirt in front of him as well as your skirt, underwear, and bra. Still wearing your thigh high socks, he stopped you before you could remove them. “I, I want you to keep those on...” he licked his lips as he stared at your socks squeezing your plush thighs, the mark he made earlier with his teeth was visible and bruising now.

Following your lead, Idia was removing his own garments, tossing his shirt to the side. He was lean, not too skinny but not muscular either, pale all over. He also removed his pants and swung them over to the floor. Idia avoided your gaze as his erection was now very much so noticeable in his boxers, and you could even see a dark spot where his precum had made a mark. You felt your vagina tremble at the sight of it. It’s been a long time since you’ve had a partner and the anticipation was starting to get to you. As for Idia, well, everything was his first.

You knelt down in front of his bed and his legs and reached out to touch the head of his penis through the boxers, making him twitch and breathe out. “Mmh,...” you pulled down his underwear to reveal his lengthy cock. He wasn’t extremely girthy but he made up for that in length. The head of it was a shade of pale pink and dripped with clear liquid. You took some of the clear liquid in your hand and began teasing the head of his dick. Opening your mouth, you also gave it a few kitten licks while you pumped the base. Idia let out a few grunts and threw his head back, causing you to grow wet again.

Idia felt himself getting too close to orgasm which made him grab your head to stop you from going further. He lifted you up again and placed you on his lap, your dripping cunt hovering over his standing cock. Your body was hot again as you stared into Idia’s yellow eyes, a pink haze dusting his pale cheeks. Remembering he was a virgin, you looked at him hesitantly. ‘I- I don’t know, are you sure you want to lose your virginity right now?’ was what you were planning on saying, until he spoke up.

“Y/n... I need you. I’ve been wanting to do this to you for a while. I- I'm gonna put it in...” Idia whispered, panting slightly. As he was lowering your hips, you couldn't say anything as you felt his tip graze your wetness and you whimpered at the feeling. He kept bringing your hips down until you felt him all the way inside, head of his dick kissing your cervix. You threw your arms around his neck and moaned into his ear, causing a grunt from your partner. Not giving you time to adjust, Idia started thrusting in and out sloppily into your hole, squelching and moaning sounds filling the air of his usually quiet dorm.

“Oh Idia, please, pleasepleaseplease-!” You screamed, not even knowing what you were pleading for. Your (h/c) hair was sweaty and you felt your eye makeup starting to run with every tear you shed. Idia’s loud grunts filled your ear, causing your heat to build up.

“*pant* Mmh, y/n...” he paused and started thrusting into you slowly but hard, pulling you back so his forehead could touch with yours, blue hair still frayed in his face. “You have, *pant* no idea... I would masturbate to your pictures every. Single. Night. I jerked off on these sheets and used your photos of you smiling, you weren’t even *pant* n-naked... Does that, *pant* make me a sick pervert? No matter, you're here with me now, and I'm mmh, making you feel good, right?” Idia confessed, yellow eyes staring into yours with infatuation and obsession. You felt your breath hitch in a feeling familiar to fear. He was lovesick. Not the same person you thought you were messaging for the past few days or gaming with earlier. He looked deranged.

“I... Aaanh~!” You were cut off by a particularly hard thrust into your cervix. Idia licked your neck while thrusting into your abused hole. “I’m gonna breed you, kitten. W-wanna see you drip with my cum.. mmh, you want that?”

You were so close to your release that you didn’t even care about what he was saying. “More Idia, more!!” You breathed. Closing your eyes and now using your own hips to grind into his cock.

Remembering a particular position that grabbed Idia’s attention, he lifted you up, dick still hard inside of you. He placed your back on the bed, your head on his pillow while he brought your legs up to your chest. Idia continued to thrust into you, your face now in full view. He held your wrists in one hand above your head so you couldn’t hide your face from his eyes.

“Idia...” you breathed out. “I- Idia!!!!” You felt your orgasm approaching fast while he pounded into you relentlessly. “Haaanh~ I’m close!!” You moaned shamelessly.

“Hnnh, that’s r-right, y/n... mm, cum for me...” Idia breathed out in between his panting. With that, Idia thrusted faster until the knot that was building in your lower regions finally released. “Aaanh~!! I’m cumming, Idia, c-cumming all over your cock!!” Your face contorted into one of full bliss, eyes looking straight into his with your mouth in an o-shape. The walls around Idia’s length clenched tightly, milking him of his seed. Idia came suddenly with a groan, pumping it deep within you while riding out his high. "Fuck, y/n!!"

Idia rolled you both to your sides, his dick softening inside you. You both panted hard as you faced one another. You opened your eyes to find him with his eyes closed, blushing at the sight of your naked bodies still intertwined even after your climaxes. “We, we actually did it...” he whispered and opened his eyes. “!!!!” He made a mildly surprised noise, eyes widening and turning away.

“Eeh?! What’s wrong!?” You said, wondering if something was on your face. “N-nothing it’s just.... I’m surprised we... you.. you’re staring at me... I’m sorry, I’m still not used to people doing that...” Idia said shamefully, darting his yellow eyes to and from you periodically.

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Eek!! Why,, are you laughing at me?” Idia frowned and hid his face in the pillow. “Well.. your personality is different when you’re having sex versus not. It's interesting.” you told him, tracing a finger along his arm.

Idia blushed intensely, throwing his arms around your neck and hid his pale face in your neck. "Mmph..! I-, I like you, y/n..." he breathed into your neck. "I wouldn't be able to handle you doing this with another person so... will you be mine?" Idia pulled back to watch your face as you contemplated.

Idia's words from earlier suddenly flooded your memories. He looked insane when he confessed to his perverted actions and it evoked an uncertain emotion akin to fear. Your body felt paralyzed. But in the moment, with Idia's lightly pink tinged skin and unsure eyes, you had to admit it made your heart flutter, too. "Yes, Idia..."

#idia shroud #twst idia #twisted wonderland smut #twst smut #ignihyde #twisted wonderland lemon #twst lemon #idia shroud x reader #idia x reader #twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere idia shroud #idia x mc #yandere x reader #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland x reader

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mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

No Fun

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Everyone knows there’s no fun in friends without benefits. (Inspired by the song Friends Without Benefits by Chloe Collins) Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, drinking, oral sex (fem receiving), mention of male receiving oral sex, penetrative/unprotected sex, creampie Word Count: 3.4k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hello! Sorry my scheduling has been all over the place lately, as I’m sure you’re probably tired of hearing about at this point 😅 But, No Fun is finally out!! (It was also a very good way for me to ease myself back into writing after recovering from my cold alsdjflsdkjf) Also, if you don’t follow Chloe on TikTok (or any social, really) you should! She’s super sweet and writes all her songs about Criminal Minds. This one’s my favorite, though! It’s such a vibe, I hope you’ll all give it a listen! 😊❤

***

Her eyes opened of their own accord. No alarm, no ring of the cellphone, no hand on her shoulder accompanied by the voice of one of her co-workers saying they'd finally landed... She liked it that way. Not only because it meant she had that rare peace and quiet first thing in the morning—though that was definitely a perk. It also meant that she was most likely at Spencer's apartment.

In his bed.

In his shirt.

As her eyes adjusted to the golden warmth that beamed through the curtains, she stretched out her arms and legs, knowing full well that he was in the kitchen; He was always in the kitchen, ever the early bird.

Speaking of, the smell of coffee started to permeate into the bedroom, and it comforted her further as she rose into a seated position. In a matter of minutes, the coffee would be ready, and Spencer would be waiting patiently, sipping from his own cup while hers sat untouched at the spot across from him.

Normally, she would get dressed and meet him out there, but upon remembering all the delicious things that happened in that kitchen the night before, she was feeling a little devious.

So she got out of bed and removed her underwear, leaving her in just his shirt, which barely covered her ass. She was going to leave them in the bedroom, but after a split second decision, she ended up striding out into the kitchen with the garment dangling from her fingers.

"Good morning," she sang, standing in front of the kitchen counter. It covered her lower half, so the only indication of her indecent exposure took form of the fabric in her hand.

Spencer was reading something, not bothering to look up as he spoke. "Good morning. Your coffee's how you like it. I thought we could stop at the gas station on the way in to get something to eat."

"Yeah, that's fine," she responded, setting the underwear on the counter and picking up her coffee. "But I was hoping you would eat me instead."

She nonchalantly lifted the mug to her lips and took a sip as he finally looked up, raising an eyebrow. Her eyes glanced down at the counter as if to say, Look...

And he did.

The seductive sparkle in his eye at the sight in front of him sent a drip of excitement into her bloodstream that rippled throughout her whole body. It always had.

That's initially what drew her to him in the first place. Yeah, it was common knowledge to anyone that Spencer was intelligent, endearing, and handsome, but it was his flirty side that really got Y/N going. It didn't come out often, if at all— unless he was drunk or with the person of his affections.

Y/N found this out when the team threw him an impromptu birthday party last year. After discovering that he hadn't reminded anyone of his thirtieth birthday, Emily immediately called Penelope back home to start planning, and she looped everyone in before they landed later that night. Y/N herself was kind of disappointed with herself for even fathoming the idea of forgetting her friend's birthday, especially since she'd known him for years and celebrated his birthday with him and their friends before.

So before the party that night, she decided to go out and get him something. Only, she couldn't find anything, and it was on her way back when everyone was wondering where she was that Y/N started to question whether or not she really deserved to be considered his friend.

It didn't stop her from putting on a happy face and celebrating his birthday to the fullest, though— She showed up and hugged him immediately, holding onto him perhaps a little too long before offering to give him anything he wanted as compensation for forgetting his birthday, and his thirtieth at that. Of course, he insisted that she didn't really have to do anything for him, but she knew that was just him being himself.

Nonetheless, the party moved along, and with pretty much everyone out of his apartment after a long night of drinking and cake and celebration, Spencer and Y/N were the only two left, buzzed and sitting a little too close.

After convincing him to let loose and have a little fun on his 'special day', Y/N had managed to get him to help her finish an entire bottle of wine. And he'd been making his way through a few beers as the sun set and the stars came out.

And then he started looking at her weird.

That was the only way she could have described it in her drunken state, but it was certainly true, if only for the fact that it wasn't a look she'd ever seen from him before. His eyes were wide, pupils blown to almost full dilation, and his tongue kept dancing behind his lips like he was tracing out some sort of invisible pattern.

When she confronted him about it, drunkenly giggling and asking why he was looking at her like that, he laughed back and flat-out told her, "Have I ever told you how pretty y'are?" And she didn't even get a chance to respond before he continued. "Y/N, you're really pretty... Like, you're the prettiest woman I-ever seen."

"You're pretty, too, y'know, birthday boy," she laughed, smiling incredibly wide. Her whole body was practically on fire, and it only got hotter when he leaned in and kissed her, hard and sloppy, and with purpose.

They went on that night, stumbling around every square inch of his apartment while mumbling drunken compliments and haphazardly throwing aside their clothes until they woke up the next morning in his bed, naked, hungover, and absolutely shocked by what had happened.

Things at work were significantly more awkward, as to be expected, but as the days went on, the more they started to catch little stolen glances and shared recovered memories of what really happened.

More specifically, Y/N couldn't stop replaying these few sentences in her head, on a loop in between flashes of hands in hair and tongues on skin...

"You said you'd give me anything I wanted, right? What if I want you?"

"Then go ahead... Have me."

...Have me...

They met up in the parking lot one day after work and simultaneously blurted out in their own words how they couldn't stop thinking about what happened and how much they wanted to do it again...

And they did.

That seductive sparkle in his eye was there when he kissed her that first night on his birthday, it was there just before they started making out in the parking lot just a week later, and it was there now as he looked down at her panties on the table and then flitted his gaze up to meet hers.

Y/N's body buzzed with a thrill as Spencer made his way around the kitchen counter and dropped to his knees as she sat on the barstool and spread her legs for him.

***

They were late for work that morning.

To make it inconspicuous, Y/N showed up ten minutes after Spencer did— maybe a little exaggerated, but it didn't raise any suspicions. It might have sucked when as soon as she walked in everyone was on their way out to go to the airstrip, Hotch with his phone in hand and ready to dial her number, but nobody suspected a thing.

Spencer threw a little smirk at her as he passed, and she resisted the urge to smack his ass out of spite.

She would have done it, too, but there were two specific rules they'd set once they decided to regularly sleep together, and one of them was that nothing could happen at work or around their friends. And regardless of how badly they wanted to steal kisses or touches at work, their arrangement meant too much to compromise. Once either rule was broken, their little friends with benefits excursion would be immediately void.

Unfortunately, after a flight that was absolutely laced with their sexual tension and once they'd landed in Minnesota for this latest case, they both shared a look that practically set in stone the undeniable, inevitable truth.

They were obsessed.

The whole ordeal was incredibly exhilarating, already an inevitable outcome when it came to regularly sleeping with a co-worker, but what they weren't counting on was just how thrilling it was. Almost a year into their extracurricular activities and they were spending just about every free moment attached by mouths and hands and limbs. And as time progressed it became increasingly more difficult to keep to themselves, needing to be in proximity to one another constantly.

That's not to say they weren't excellent at handling it, though.

Sure, the burning in their veins at the sight of one another after knowing what it was like to be intimate was excruciating, and being paired together on cases knowing that they couldn't break any rules had them feeling like they were going to drown... But the pay-off after a long period of time with no physical contact was absolutely worth it.

All the secrecy and the holding back made it that much explosive when they finally got a decent moment alone.

Right now they were on their way back from a week-long case in Georgia.

And maybe it was fucked up, but once the team realized it was going to be rather grueling, the first thing Y/N thought was how better her stress relief was going to be when they finally finished. The second she thought it, she briefly glanced over at Spencer and saw that he had the same look on his face.

Even during the jet ride home, they were sitting on opposite sides while everyone slept around them, staring at each other and only breaking eye contact when someone rustled in their sleep.

Grueling images of the things they'd seen in the past week danced between them alongside flashes of all the things they wanted to do to each other as compensation. They heard faint screams and gunshots muffled by the high moans and shouts of each others' names, heavy breathing and skin slapping against skin...

The only word that sat between them as they clamored into Spencer's car and drove off was, "Drive."

It was late. They were exhausted and alert all at the same time. Their bodies were practically on fire. Y/N's leg bounced rapidly as Spencer's fingers tapped the steering wheel with fervor and impatience. And when he knew there would be no one around to pull them over for speeding, he stepped on the gas harder, and their heartbeats picked up right alongside their speed.

Even the walk up to his apartment was laced with impatience, Y/N's leg still bouncing as Spencer unlocked the door.

They rushed through it the second there was a tiny sliver of light from the dim nightlight she knew he kept in the entryway.

And then it was beautiful, heavenly chaos.

The door slammed loudly as Spencer leaned his whole body weight against Y/N, sending her flying towards it. They were drawn together like a magnet to a fridge, a moth to a flame, days of pent-up frustration and tension beginning its firework show right there in his entryway as their mouths clashed together.

No amount of contact was good enough it seemed, because it was just constant movement. Their hands wandered and their bodies pressed into each other continuously as they kissed the breath out of each other. Even still, they continued all the way to his bedroom, grunting while bumping into furniture and walls and doorways, but never daring to separate an inch all the same.

"God, I needed you," Spencer whispered once his bedroom door was shut. His hands tugged at her shirt and tried to get the buttons done as he continued. "All fucking week, you were just right there and I couldn't touch you..."

Y/N pressed her mouth to his and started hastily unbuttoning his shirt as well. After a few seconds, he pulled his mouth away and started to speak again, his fingers still trying to get her shirt undone. "I need it bad..."

With a frustrated grunt, Y/N pulled him in closer by the collar of his shirt and hissed into his mouth, "Then shut up and fucking take it..."

Her words kicked him in the ass and shot him forward, sending them flying towards the door once again. She yelped at the sharp pain that came and went as her back hit the wood, but with Spencer's hands finally tearing open her shirt and settling on her bare waist as he practically shoved his tongue down her throat, she couldn't complain.

Both of their shirts came off, and as soon as they hit the floor her hands went to his hair. She tugged on the wavy locks, a soft moan escaping her as he dipped his hands under the back of her bra and worked the clasp. It came off quickly, as it always did, and once it hit the floor he leaned down and gave her breasts all his attention. His tongue swirled around her nipples one my one, littering her skin with kisses in between and reveling in the way she kept tugging on his hair each time he gently tugged a nipple with his teeth.

Eventually, they both couldn't take any more, Y/N pushing his head down while tugging down her slacks and Spencer being glad she did, using his hands to assist her.

Having known for about a year now how heavenly his mouth was when it worked at her wasn't even a fair warning for the intensity of the shudders that soared through her body when his lips made contact with her clit just then. She let out a loud, broken cry of relaxation and relief and pure ecstasy as he practically devoured her.

His tongue was gliding through her with ease, ravening groans erupting from his throat and sending more sharp waves of excitement through Y/N's bloodstream with every passing second. His ministrations were quick and greedy, sloppy yet precise. And when he added his fingers to the mix, she gripped his hair tight and cried out his name, tensing at the sweet, burning stretch they provided.

That only drove him more wild, his tongue flicking over her clit faster while his fingers pumped, curled, and dragged languidly inside of her. He worked to pull every ounce of pleasure from her body, all while squeezing his eyes shut and losing himself in the taste of her, the way her thighs lightly trembled over his face and the desperate clutches of her fingers in his hair...

He wanted all of it. All of her.

He also wanted to hear that sound she made when he was helping her through the peak of her orgasm— a high, dreamy cry that boiled his insides and turned him into an animal.

And there it was, with just three more quick pumps of his fingers. It started off soft, though he knew the second he sucked on her clit and grazed her g-spot with his fingers it would careen higher and louder, right into that perfect pitch that he wished he could hear for eternity. Her thighs shook almost violently around his head, her fingers clawing at his scalp so tight that he felt little pinpricks of pleasure run down the back of his head and through his neck.

Y/N came down soon after, her voice resorting to small whimpers and pants as she tried to push his head away. But it wasn't until she actually tugged his hair up that Spencer finally retreated and got up off the floor.

"I thought you wanted me to take it?" he panted, already missing the warmth of her legs over his face.

She reached down and started toying with his belt, pulling him closer by the leather and throwing him a smirk. "Yeah, but now I wanna take it."

Before she could sink to her knees, though, he stopped her, walking her towards the bed and sitting her down as he finished taking off his pants. "Another time... Right now I need to be inside of you."

The urgency dripping in his voice and through his movements made Y/N burn all over again, and really, who was she to argue? Yeah, maybe she wanted to suck the living soul out of him, but his eagerness to get to the main event gave her the opportunity to treat him tomorrow morning. Spencer was always hard in the morning (at least on the rare occasion that she'd wake up before he did), and the thought of his sleepy groans and whines as she slowly worked his cock with her mouth was more than enough to keep her satisfied until then.

It also made her incredibly wet and ready, which was convenient when he climbed over her and bent her legs back, leaning forward and sinking into her in no time at all.

The sounds that came out of their mouths right then were exceedingly pornographic. It had been too long since their last sexual encounter, and even though they'd been at it plenty of times before, it still felt as intense and fresh as the first few times.

As aforementioned, they were obsessed.

Their song and dance of skink on skin never got old. Time and time again, it was like they'd never touched before, every feeling so intense it was like they were on the top of a rollercoaster that just kept falling and falling with no end in sight.

Every time he snapped his hips forward and and stretched her wide, her insides crumbled apart and gave way to his storm. She embraced his using of her body for pleasure, and he gave her the best orgasms in turn.

As of right now, she was caught between wanting to look down between their bodies to watch him fuck her and laying back to let it happen— take it all in that way and lose herself in the moment.

Though, she settled on the former, just as she always did, because watching Spencer fuck her was always the more exciting option. Especially when he was as urgent as he was now.

She watched with her bottom lip out in a pout as he fucked her, taking notice of how his hands looked gripping her waist and how his stomach tensed with every movement. Her eyes wandered over the planes of his body, and then finally his face. Usually he'd be so focused on the task at hand that his eyes would barely be open, taking in every ounce of pleasure that he possibly could, and that was exactly the case here. Fluttering eyes, pouty lips, flushed face, hair damp and wild as ever...

It drove her half mad.

"Harder," she demanded, reaching out and pulling him closer by the ass.

Spencer was more than happy to comply, a satisfied huff of laughter coming from him as he leaned down and sharpened his movements. His hips were heavier, pinning Y/N down into the mattress with every thrust forward, consequently drawing a little whimper from her each time.

To take it a step further and complete her request, he leaned back a little and pushed her legs open and wide, spreading her further and pinning her down that way to give his hips more driving force.

Unsurprisingly, neither of them lasted long after that.

Y/N shouted his name into the air, leaning her head back as her body tensed and gave in to his force. And he fucked her through it, his grunts gradually getting louder until his hips pushed into hers one final time, at which point he leaned down and put more of his weight on top of her.

As he filled her with his release, she sighed out, clenching herself around him and reveling in his warmth. Whether it was the warmth inside of her or the warmth he provided by blanketing her body with his own, she was glad for its presence. There was nothing else she'd rather have felt after a hard week at work—or any hard feat, really—than Spencer.

He retracted his warmth once they'd settled, however, removing himself from the bed on shaky limbs to grab wipes on the other side of the room.

And of course, Y/N admired him the whole way, flashing him a devilish wink when he inevitably caught her staring.

***

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction

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captains-simp · 3 years

Note

Hi can you write a carol fic where carol and fem!reader are exes but reader is also a villain so she constantly pisses off carol just to get her attention 🥳 happy ending too plz

Girlfriends to enemies to yearning enemies to lovers??? Where has this idea been all my life?

1.5k words

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"She's at it again." Natasha sighed as she watched the TV screen carefully. Carol groaned loudly and hid her face in her hands, not wanting to look up at the screen to see the havoc you had caused.

"Fuck sake, y/n." Tony mumbled but felt a regrettable sense of pride deep down at seeing your latest handy work. Played to perfection. As always.

Stark had been your mentor once. Everything you knew you learnt from him and while he never would have taught you if he knew what you would do with his teachings, he couldn't deny that your skills were unmatched.

You never hurt anyone. Well. You never killed anyone. There was always someone who might have gotten a little battered in an explosion, but it was never your goal to murder. You just wanted a certain blonde's attention.

"Maybe you could-" Steve started but Carol cut him off as she grabbed her jacket from the back of the couch and called out over her shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, I know the drill." She mumbled begrudgingly and left the common room area with a faint glow starting to appear around her.

You swung your legs excitedly as you watched the scene still unfolding beneath you.

The building was still ablazed. Appartments. Shitty shitty appartments. Every one of them had mold growing in the corners, damp in the ceilings, barely functioning heating and questionable water.

The people who lived there couldn't afford to upgrade or even repair their homes and the landlord wouldn't do anything. So you decided to burn it down.

Carefully planned, of course. Most of the preparation had been around securing future homes for those who lived in that shithole. It was a complicated process, especially giving the anonymity of it. But it would be successful. And the landlord? He would be stuck with a bill he should have been paying for a long time, you made sure he couldn't get the ex tenants to pay either.

It was a good day.

You weren't a vigilante as such. Not any more. You had given it a go but you didn't have the tracking or assassination skills of Natasha so you never got any big targets. It wasn't enough. Not when all you wanted was to prove you had the strength to look after yourself and then some. That was what it was all about.

You had worked tirelessly to prove it ever since Carol broke up with you. She had always been fiercely protective. But when insecurities and paranoia started building too high she couldn't shake the distressing thoughts that something could happen to you one day. Something that was caused because you were so close to her. Something she couldn't prevent.

She still loved you. That much you knew. That was what kept you going. You knew Carol wasn't overjoyed at the things you did, there were times you weren't either. But you had to get her back. She was the love of your life and you'd be damned if you gave up what you had the way she had.

It didn't take long for her to arrive. There wasn't anyone else around because while you didn't want to broadcast your location to everyone, it needed to be enough for the Avengers to find you.

"Hey baby!" You grinned up at Carol as she landed infront of you, stoic expression wavering at the enduring name. "How've you been?" You continued in a sing song voice.

"Stop that." She said, not as firmly as she hoped she would sound.

"Rough week?" You asked as you sat down on the ledge and patted the spot next to you. Carol looked around at her surroundings and you rolled your eyes.

"Fine, we'll go somewhere more private." You raised your voice at the last word, hoping whatever camera they had found you on had audio and picked up on what you said. Carol grimaced at the volume but followed you anyway.

"So how is work?" You continued and you strolled down the path next to the blonde.

"I'm not here for a catchup, y/n. But for your information you're making it a pain in my ass." She huffed and you smiled, remembering all the times she ranted about work to you. Now she probably ranted about you to work. Or did she never want to talk about you? Your smile dropped with your stomach at the thought but you quickly recovered.

"So what are you here to do, Captain?" You teased as you got to the bottom of the path and walked a few feet into an old tunnel and stopped to face Carol.

"You need to stop this, y/n." She said firmly. You considered her for a moment.

"Do you think I can look after myself?" You asked seriously.

"Y/n-" Carol sighed.

"Do you?" You continued, wanting to know more than anything. She looked up and considered you too.

It had been a year since she broke up with you, a year that you had changed a lot in. Not just mentally. Your once soft hands were now calloused and slightly red. Your soft smile now held something more to it, something that you had to keep back and locked away. There were scratches and cuts scattered across your body. But really what changed most was that you were alone. There was no one to watch your back anymore.

Despite your efforts to show Carol how strong you were, you were more vulnerable then than you ever had been in your life. Maybe that was why she finally had enough.

"I do. I think you always could." You nodded because yes, that's exactly what you wanted her to understand.

The blonde looked down at her own hands, her eyes flickering to yours every so often. You knew what she wanted. You reached out slowly and gently entwined your rough hands that seemed to still feel so perfect against her own.

"You've really been a pain in my ass, you know that?" She asked and you couldn't help but laugh because that's an understatement.

"So have you!" You exclaimed through a laugh. "You think blowing up buildings is easy?" Carol laughs this time, ready with a come back as always.

"Well for me it's-" You punched her arm before she could finish making her laugh more. God you missed that laugh.

"Cocky as always." You mused and stroked your thumb over the back of her hand. She hummed in agreement, clearly more focused on your movements.

"I'm meant to take you in." She admitted and you weren't quite sure what to do. Yes, you want Carol back. But your goal was always to make her see how capable you were. You had been blinded by the goal and done things she never would have approved on. Carol knew you were strong, but now you might have become someone she can't love. You never thought that far ahead.

"Just...visit me?" You asked hopelessly. She looked up at you and you were taken aback by seeing tears welling in her eyes. You untwined your hands in an instant and reached up to cup her face but felt tears of your own upon seeing her conflicted face.

It was only then that you stopped to realise everything she must had been through in that year apart. The things you put her through.

"I'm sorry." You admitted as tears streamed down your face. "I never meant to- I don't know I thought, well I wasn't thinking." You rambled in shame and Carol brought her hands up to your face too and brought you forward to rest your foreheads together.

"I missed you." She spoke out quietly. "I never stopped missing you, or loving you." She pulled away slightly to look you in the eye and you saw the truth shining back at you.

Then, she brought you closer again, closer so her lips were right next to your own. She stopped to hesitant, wondering if following her heart was the right choice. But when you closed the gap to kiss her she knew it was right. That you could figure things out like you always did.

You kissed her with everything that had built up inside of you for that year apart. The plans, the yearning, the love. All of it. You had waited such a long time to be with her again, unsure if it could even happen, and yet her lips felt as perfect against yours as ever. Like a distance had never grown between you.

Carol pushed you against the tunnel wall as she kissed you back with everything she had. You were everything to her. You always had been and it had never wavered.

When your lips became bruised and breathing became an issue you both pulled away and stood in each other's embrace for you didn't even know how long.

"What now?" You couldn't help but ask.

"We'll figure something out." Carol said as she laced your fingers together again.

"We?" You asked, wanting to pinch yourself to see if it was all real.

"Yes, you and me. Together." You sighed and pulled her closer towards you where you could burry your face in her neck.

"Thank you for giving me a chance." You whispered.

"Thank you for never giving up." Carol whispered back.

#carol danvers #captain marvel #brie larson #captain marvel imagines #captain marvel x reader #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers imagines #marvel

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nugnthopkns · 3 years

Text

felt the lightning under my skin

word count: 13.7k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, cursing, little bit of asshole joel, alcohol consumption, slight innuendo, moderate depiction of injury, needles

recommended listening: under the spell | springtime carnivore

a/n: i know figure skater/hockey player romances are terribly cliche but i couldn’t help myself. as an ex-skater hopefully i can make it a little less cringe. there’s probably an obscene amount of technical jargon in here and i sincerely apologize. the injury mentioned actually happened to me and let me tell you, it was not fun lmao. enjoy!

Joel swears he’s going to kill whoever’s in charge of renting out the practice facility.

Realistically, he knows it’s impossible. The rink can be rented by anyone when the Flyers aren’t using it and he typically thinks it’s a great way to promote ice sports in the community. Joel just wishes the facilities manager didn’t rent it out to figure skaters. They kick the shit out of the ice with their toe picks and leave the ice in terrible quality. It frustrates Joel because while community engagement is important, his career and the team take precedence.

No one else seems to be bothered by the recent decline in ice conditions. Most of his teammates are used to poor ice, growing up playing pond hockey and at rinks that also housed figure skating clubs. While Joel had those experiences as well, he clearly never developed the same nonchalance as everyone else. He complains in the dressing room after every practice until Kevin finally says something.

“Christ Beezer, relax. It’s only for another month or so until renovations at the other rink finish.”

Others chime in, telling him to not take it so seriously, with a couple of them defending the right of the other athletes to use the ice as they so please. The grief Joel catches is enough to shut him up, but he still stews privately over the fact figure skaters are destroying his happy place.

☼☼☼☼

You want nothing more than to return to your home rink. The Flyers Skate Zone has been nice, the staff are incredibly accommodating, but something feels off. You’re having a harder time landing jumps and skating clean programs. The change in routine is enough to knock you off your game, which is something you absolutely can’t have. You’re coming off a breakthrough season, finishing on the podium at nationals and landing a spot on your first world championships roster. People are expecting you to replicate your success and you want to do that and more.

US Figure Skating had taken a chance placing you on the national team for the current season. Though it was expected, they could have easily chosen the fourth place skater instead. She’s much younger than you, barely fifteen, and is yet to have a serious injury. At twenty you’re barely an adult, but this could be the last time you get an opportunity like this. The sport keeps getting younger and you’re going to get left behind if you don’t prove yourself. The grand prix circuit has been kind to you, allowing you to earn medals at some of the smaller competitions and hold your own against the big dogs in the majors like NHK Trophy.

☼☼☼☼

“Try the triple flip again,” Brenda, your coach, instructs. “You could be more solid on the landing.”

“It’s this fucking ice! I can do one at home that would get me a high GOE,” you complain.

She rolls her eyes and thinks about telling you off, but decides against it. No matter how many times she tells you it’s a mental block you need to get over, you find a way to blame the training facility. “Just give me five solid ones and we’ll call it quits.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes, but you peel away from the boards anyways. Some juniors are mingling in a corner and you warn them to watch out as you skate by gaining speed. The first attempt feels natural, and though you could have been a little stronger on the exit it’s a significant improvement from what you were doing earlier in the session. Jumps two and three also go well, but things go wrong on the fourth try. You catch a bad edge just before takeoff and aren’t able to correct your center of gravity while in the air. Two and a half rotations happen before you slam into the ground. The entire right side of your body feels like it’s been run over by a bus.

“Fuck!” you scream in frustration as you pick yourself up off the ice. Circling back to examine just how bad the edge was you notice your pick created much too large a hole, something you’d get points deducted for in competition. Brenda signals you over to her, and you hang your head as you skate over.

“You’re done,” she sighs. You can tell it pains her to see your progress plateau, but you’re doing everything you can to get out of this rut. Before you can protest, try to convince her to let you stay on, she’s speaking again. “Our ice time is up anyways. Go cool down and meet me in the conference room when you’re done.”

There’s nothing for you to do but sulk off the ice. The other skaters clear out of your way, not wanting to be on the receiving end of your anger. You direct it at the dressing room door, kicking it open so harshly it flies back on the hinges. It makes you feel a bit better but you’re still in a sour mood as you untie your skates. It’s frustrating not being able to perform at the level you know you can, even in practice. If you could just get out of this rink and back into the one you’re most comfortable at.

After a much longer stretching routine than normal, you pack up your bag and head upstairs for what will no doubt be one of those meetings where you sit silently and take the heat. You realize that your behaviour today was childish, but you couldn’t help but let your emotions overcome you. The next group is well into their ice time when you pass by, and you realize it’s the Flyers. Most of them don’t acknowledge you and keep running drills, but one who looks about your age is sending you daggers. You have no idea why.

The meeting goes much better than you thought it would. Brenda takes your anger in stride and lets you apologize for your outburst before shifting the conversation to altering your training plan. She suggests you take a few days off from the rink, working strictly off-ice, and you begrudgingly agree. There isn’t anything you can do or say to change her mind so you take the updated workout plans with a fake smile. She also tells you that your appointment with your sports psychologist has been moved up a couple of days, which you’re grateful for. Things then move to talking strategy and watching tape of competitors to see what to expect at this year’s nationals. The event is just over a month out, and you have the goal of landing on the podium once again, hopefully with the gold medal dangling around your neck.

A couple of hours pass with you holed up in the conference room, and it’s dark when you gather your stuff and head for home. The complex is deserted and you assume no one but the staff are still here. It turns out someone else was there, and they follow you out, their own gear bag slung over their shoulder. You don’t really pay them any mind, holding the door open out of habit, and fail to recognize the person as the boy who glared while you walked by hours prior. He notices you, however, and makes a point to voice his distaste.

“Hey!” he calls out, “Next time you eat shit don’t put such a big hole in the ice. Other people need it too.”

“Get fucked,” you yell back. You really don’t have the time or energy to be accosted by a hockey player. He continues to talk, but you don’t hear it because you slam your car door shut and drive off into the darkness.

☼☼☼☼

Joel doesn’t feel like he was in the wrong until Claude suggests he apologize a few days later. In his mind, he has every right to be upset about you damaging the ice because it directly affected him. The hole you caused couldn’t be fully repaired, and he tripped at a really key moment during the scrimmage. His bad day was your fault.

“You can’t blame a tough practice on her man,” Claude says as the two of them skate a few warm-up laps. “She didn’t mean to fall. Hell, she didn’t want to do it.”

“I get it, or whatever, but it’s still her fault. We’re professional athletes G, we need to be at the top of our games.”

Claude swats Joel upside the head. “So is she! Did you know that she’s favoured to win both the national and world championships? And that things look good for her to be on the Olympic team next year?”

Joel didn’t know, and guilt twinges his stomach. The next time he runs into you at the rink he’s going to apologize.

☼☼☼☼

You spend your time away from the rink conditioning and regaining focus. The first couple of days are tough, but then you settle into a routine you believe will ultimately make you a better athlete and competitor. Your cardio and weights are upped, and you’re anxious to see how the increase improves your performance. At the suggestion of your psychologist you take a few more days off than originally planned, but it’s the best thing you could have done. You return to the rink ready to nail the final few weeks of training before nationals.

Any other coach would have detested you for taking a week off this close to a major competition, but not Brenda. She understands that you needed time to refocus and that you’ll work harder than anyone else in the time until you leave for Salt Lake City. Your first practice is fantastic – every element is clean when isolated and within your programs. The timing is off a bit during your free skate on the first run-through but your jitters settle quickly and the next one is spot on. It feels good to be back in control of things.

“I think you’re over that mental block kid,” Brenda laughs when you stop along the boards to get some water. “You’re skating better here than at home.”

You can’t help but agree. “You know, I don’t hate it here as much as I used to. Think we should move here permanently?” The comment earns you a slightly aggressive hair ruffling, but it’s worth it. You spend the last hour of ice time alone, running through both of your programs in a mock competition setting.

It’s nearly silent in the complex when Joel sneaks through the doors. The only thing he can hear is the faint sounds of your music from inside the pad. He had been worried that you were never going to reappear at the rink but learned you were just taking a break when he cornered your coach in the parking lot. The middle-aged lady had told him when you’d be returning and Joel immediately put it in his calendar so he wouldn’t forget. Now, as he stands against the glass watching you, he’s nervous. What if you don’t accept his apology?

Joel knew you were a good skater. Well, he was pretty sure you were. He spent the short three-day road trip to Florida watching as many videos of you competing on YouTube as he could find. Though he’s murky on the specifics of what makes a good figure skater, Joel knows you put heart and soul into every performance and that your elements are strong technically. Your scores reflect that. Regardless, Joel is blown away at how talented you are when he watches you skate in person.

You’re looser than in the videos he’s seen, probably because there isn’t any pressure, but you don’t give it any less than your all. The music drives you forward in a way Joel’s never seen before – you’re an extension of it, and it of you. As you round a corner to pick up speed he holds his breath. From watching footage of this program from earlier in the season, he knows you’re about to attempt your hardest element. The quadruple salchow is one of the hardest jumps female skaters are attempting at the moment, according to his research, and it’s been your most inconsistent element this season. You’re completing the jump before Joel realizes you’ve taken off the ground, but you don’t fall. He exhales and watches the rest of the program in awe.

When the music stops and you take in your surroundings, you notice the applause. Thinking it’s just from Brenda, you shrug it off, but when you turn around she isn’t clapping. It’s coming from someone else – the boy who was a douchebag the last day before your break. The chances are he’s here to make another stupid comment, but Brenda insists you should talk to him. You wave him over to a section near the benches that dosen’t have glass so you can hear him better.

“What do you want?” you ask bluntly, taking a sip of water.

Joel’s taken aback by your abrasiveness but recovers quickly. He deserves it. “I, uh, wanted to apologize for what I said last week. That wasn’t cool. I was having a bad day and took out on you, I’m sorry,” he rambles. “And you’re like really good.”

“It wasn’t fucking cool,” you agree, “But we’re fine. I had just been kicked off the ice when you caught me, so I’m sorry too. For snapping.” There’s nothing more for either of you to say, and Brenda is calling your name, so you skate away from him. Over your shoulder you call out, “Thanks for the compliment unnamed Flyers player!”

“It’s Joel!” he responds. “Joel Farabee.”

☼☼☼☼

A sort of truce befalls you and Joel. More of your ice time overlaps, but neither you acknowledge each other more than the occasional nod in each other’s direction. It doesn’t bother you in the slightest. Preparing for nationals is the only that matters currently, and trying to navigate a possible friendship would be too much of a distraction. Joel is a little put off you don’t try to extend pleasantries, but when it’s explained to him that you’re entering a period that is similar to the lead-up to playoffs he understands.

However, he finds himself making up excuses to stay at the rink to watch you practice. He blows off dinner with Kevin and drinks with Morgan when you have the slot after practice, and when you skate before him he’s at the rink hours early. His schoolboy crush becomes the topic of locker room gossip. Though Joel swears up and down that he just likes to watch you skate, none of the guys believe him. They don’t go as far as to embarrass him in your presence, but Travis certainly tries. What Joel doesn’t know is that you’re developing the same sort of fascination with him. You find yourself turning on every Flyers game you can fit into your schedule, watching him intently, and keeping an eye on his stats.

“That boy sure has a lot of interest in you,” Brenda muses one day while you’re talking strategy on how to increase the points total on your short program.

“I don’t know why,” you sigh. “So I was thinking, if I raise my arms during the triple lutz it should give me at least three more points.”

She looks at you like you’ve gained two extra heads. “Are you insane? You’ve never raised your arms during a triple.”

Your smile turns into a wicked smirk. “It can’t be that hard.”

It’s a lot harder than you thought it would be. Though you’ve added the extra step to jumps in the past, it’s been on single and doubles to rack up points and GOE scores. Jumping has never been your strong suit, and trying to navigate the change in your centre of gravity is difficult. You spend the rest of your ice time popping, under-rotating, or slamming into the ground. A couple of juniors snicker at your failed attempts, but when you remind them they’re stuck on a double loop they stop laughing. It was a little mean, and you remember how hard it was to prove yourself as a junior, but you can’t find it in you to care. There’s no need to laugh at someone trying to improve their skating.

Bruises start to form on your sides from falling the exact same way so many times, and you trace them lightly through the thin material of your compression top. They’re going to look nasty in a few hours if you don’t ice them soon. A knock on the door stops your actions, and you invite the person on the other side in. To your surprise it’s Joel, and he’s holding an ice pack.

“I thought you might need one of these,” he says, extending it to you.

You thank him and hiss slightly when the cold hits your skin. There’s a beat of awkward silence before Joel speaks again. “Can I ask why you’re trying to change that jump?”

“You noticed that?” you know it isn’t a response to his question, but you’re shocked.

Joel smiles and nods. You explain how changing the position of your arms increases the difficulty of the jump and therefore raises the amount of points it can receive. “So you’re doing it to get more points?”

“Pretty much. It’s a gamble this close to competition, but I’m confident it’ll work out.”

“You’re afraid your program won’t gain enough points to put you in a good position for the free skate,” he notes, “Or you wouldn’t be doing this.”

Once again, you’re floored by Joel’s understanding of your sport. “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” you say as confidently as you can. “But maybe I just want the challenge.” If Joel notices the shake in your voice and the worried look in your eye he doesn’t say anything.

You go through your cool-down routine but are surprised Joel doesn’t leave. In fact, he stays at the rink until you’re finished and follows you to the parking lot. His car is parked a few spots over from you, so you have to raise your voice a little to get him to hear you. “Hey Joel,” you call, “Do you not have practice?”

“Day off,” he yells back. He’s grinning like an idiot, which prompts you to ask him why. “That’s the first time you’ve said my name.” The smile on his face doesn’t go away, and you try to settle the butterflies in your stomach as you drive home.

☼☼☼☼

Something shifts between you and Joel after that day. It’s subtle, but you’re well on your way to becoming friends. Phone numbers are exchanged, with him insisting his contact name be ‘King Beezer’, and the two of you chat regularly outside of the rink. He still watches as many training sessions as he can, and you start making appearances at his practices. It’s far more awkward for you but you push through it if for no other reason than wanting to be a good sport. Once Joel’s teammates catch wind of your budding friendship, they’re pestering you to go to a game. You politely decline each time, explaining that your training schedule is rather rigid and you can’t change it so close to nationals. The competition is just over a week out, and you’re catching a flight to Utah in three days.

Joel doesn’t let you know he’s a little upset you won’t shift your schedule for him. Instead, he brings you lunch on days where you’re at the rink for eight hours and does his individual workouts alongside you. The two of you fall into the easy routine of enjoying each other’s company and everyone else is beginning to take notice.

“So,” you say with a mouth full of the pita Joel brought you, “What are your plans for the All-Star break?”

Joel has been toying with an idea for a few weeks now, but he’s keeping it a secret. “I’m just gonna spend it at home with my family,” he shrugs.

“You’re fucking joking. Joel, you could be someplace warm enjoying the beach!”

“I don’t want to go to the beach,” Joel retorts.

You open your mouth to argue with him, because you’re of the opinion that everyone should love the beach, but you’re cut off by Brenda calling you to return to the ice. “This conversation isn’t over Beezer,” you say sternly, poking him in the chest to prove your point. He rolls his eyes.

“I’ve gotta be at Wells Fargo in an hour for a team meeting, so I can’t watch this session,” he tells you. You’re a little deflated but understand he can’t play hookie from his job to watch you do yours. Brenda is banging a skate guard on the boards to get your attention, so you wave goodbye and jog over to her. “Y/N,” Joel yells loud enough that you’ll hear him over the chatter on the ice, “Keep your core tight!”

Your coaching team is perplexed at the comment because it’s second nature to you at this point, but you think it’s sweet. Some of the other girls poke fun at your ‘boyfriend’ and it makes you irritable. Brenda tells them off and suggests they get back to work which makes you feel better. You keep Joel’s advice in the back of your mind for the rest of your practice, and land every jump almost flawlessly.

The day before you board your flight you have a terrible practice. Brenda chalks it up to nerves, but you that’s not it. You feel good about the competition and are confident it will go well. Something is off – you just can’t put a finger on it. Frustration eventually boils over and practice is called early. Everyone stays out of your way, letting you cool off, and you huff out a goodbye after promising to meet Brenda at the airport in the morning. Before you’re even out the door you’ve got your phone pressed to your ear, waiting for Joel to pick up. The Flyers got to start their break a day early due to a scheduling conflict and you hope he doesn’t fly home tonight.

“What’s up?” Joel says casually. Judging by the background noise he’s playing video games, no doubt some dumb first-person shooter game he seems to play constantly. The sound of his voice is enough to send you into tears and you can’t get out a reply. His tone changes instantly and the noise stops – the game paused and forgotten about. “Hey,” he soothes, “What’s wrong?”

“Practice was bad,” you choke out, “Like really bad. Joel, I don’t think I can do this.” Now across the parking lot and at your car, you throw your bag in the trunk and crumble into the driver’s seat.

“Of course you can. Want me to bring dinner over and we can do whatever?” You agree, not wanting to be alone, and hang up only after insisting you’re okay to drive the twenty minutes to your apartment.

Joel must have drove well above the speed limit because he pulls into the parking lot at the same time as you. His engine is turned off jarringly fast, and he’s popping your trunk to grab your bag before your gears have settled in park. Though you put up some rather weak protests about carrying your own stuff, Joel ignores them. When you insist on holding something he tosses you the bag of food he brought with him. Opening it up, you realize Joel had stopped at your favourite sushi restaurant even though he doesn’t like the food. A smile creeps onto your face, possibly the first one all day, and you lean into Joel slightly when he wraps an arm around your shoulder.

The two of you eat in silence, but it’s far from awkward. Joel’s waiting for you to open up, knows you will eventually, and you’re trying to find the words. However, they’re yet to appear, so you let Joel lead you to the couch and put on an episode of some crime show he’s currently watching.

“Thanks for coming over,” you say as the credits roll on the second episode.

Joel sends a smile your way, which you do your best to reciprocate. “Don’t worry about it. This is what friends do.”

Slowly, you open up about practice, venting about how you skated sloppily and couldn’t nail any element no matter how simple it was. You tell him about how tense your muscles are and how scared you are that your fifteen minutes of fame are over, that you’ll never get another chance to represent America on the world stage. Joel listens attentively, letting you speak for as long as you need. At some point you start crying again and he tucks you into his side. Your tears soak through his sweatshirt but he could care less. When you’ve laid all your emotions out on the table he speaks gently, dispelling your doubts and letting you know that you can do it and he believes in you. Joel’s words make it easier to believe in yourself.

The two of you spend the night on the couch, and you’re disheartened when your alarm goes off. You can’t stay in the little bubble Joel created for the two of you – the world and its responsibilities taking precedence over your fantasy. He drives you to the airport, rationalizing it by telling you it’ll be safer to keep your car at home. Realistically there isn’t a difference, but you thank him anyways. Parking is just one last thing you have to worry about. When you reach the airport entrance, Joel pulls into the idling lane and steps out of the car. You follow him, dragging your feet a bit because though you’re excited for nationals you don’t want to leave Joel. This will be the longest time the two of you have been apart since becoming friends.

“Make sure you don’t forget about me when you win and get all famous,” Joel jokes, handing you your suitcase.

You swat his shoulder playfully. “Like you’d let that happen.”

“Of course I wouldn’t. Come here.”

He takes you in his arms. You’ve hugged Joel a couple of times before, but they didn’t feel as serious as this. This time he’s holding you for a purpose and you’re gripping the back of his jacket tightly because you want him to let go. It’s longer than people who are just friends are meant to hug for, so you begrudgingly pull away. Besides, Brenda and some of your teammates are waiting.

“Have a good time at home,” you mumble.

Joel wraps a single arm around you for one more squeeze. “You have a good time,” he says seriously. “Remember to enjoy the moment. I’ll be watching on T.V.”

With your goodbyes said you wander into the airport. Joel says parked in his spot until he sees you embrace Brenda before driving off. The boarding process is painless, and once on the plane you take your seat beside a junior and put your headphones on. Downloaded to your Spotify is one of Joel’s hip-hop playlists, and though it’s the farthest thing from the music you enjoy you listen to it the whole flight.

☼☼☼☼

Utah’s nice, but you can’t help feeling like something’s missing – Joel’s missing. You’ve become so accustomed to him watching you train, clapping like an idiot every time you land a jump, that the silence is unnerving. Everyone notices the shift in your performance, and eventually Brenda crumbles and uses your phone to facetime him while you practice. It’s a decent enough substitute – Joel watches your pixelated figure zip around the ice and though he doesn’t always make comments, just know he’s with you in some capacity is enough to let your mind focus on the task at hand. You do the best you can at pushing away the butterflies that appear every time you think about how he’s giving up his freedom to make sure you succeed.

When you aren’t training or doing press you’re talking to Joel. You call him constantly, narrating what you see on walks around town to settle your nerves and eating at the same time to make it feel like you’re together. The only person to support you in Salt Lake City is Brenda, so talking to Joel frequently makes you feel far less alone. You wish he could be here with you, but understand he needs time to recharge and can’t just follow you around the country no matter how much you’d like him to.

“What time do you skate tomorrow?” Joel asks, mouth full of the pizza he’s enjoying. The features behind are different, so you assume he’s settled into his childhood home.

“Um, I think 11:35? I’m not entirely sure,” you respond. Due to the way the event is seeded you’re skating second last, which both settles your nerves and makes you more anxious. There isn’t the pressure of closing out the event, but there’s hope that you’ll score high enough to win the short program and skate last in the free skate.

Joel hums pensively. “I’ll check the website.” Conversation shifts away from skating, which you’re grateful for. It’s the last thing you currently want to think about. You listen with interest as Joel recounts stories of the pond hockey matches he’s played since getting home. The two of you are on the phone until nearly ten, when you have to say goodnight and head to bed. Tomorrow marks the start of the biggest week of your year.

You follow your pre-competition routine to the letter. At other events this season you’ve been more relaxed, but your professional skating career depends on your performance at nationals so you aren’t taking chances. Five-thirty comes faster than you thought it would, but you’re out of bed and eating your first breakfast quickly. A quick two mile run follows, and then you’re having a shower and grabbing a second breakfast to eat at the rink. You meet Brenda in the hotel lobby before ubering to the rink. A solid practice follows, and you manage to keep your imposter syndrome on a leash in the presence of the other skaters.

“It’s Joel,” Brenda says as she tosses you your phone.

“Hey,” you say, squeezing the device between your ear and shoulder. “I don’t have much time to talk. My warm up call is soon.”

Joel laughs and you find yourself cracking a smile at the sound. “I know. Just wanted to check in and see how you’re feeling.”

“Honestly? I can’t remember the last time I was this nervous for a competition.”

His response is cut off by a loud noise. “Where are you?” you ask.

“Just at home,” he says quickly. “My sister has some friends over and they’re being loud.”

The line is compelling enough that you don’t question how hastily it was delivered. Joel stays on the phone until you have to go, keeping your mind off the jittery feeling in your stomach. The TV cameras catch you talking but you give them a cheery wave and continue telling Joel about how good the soap at your hotel smells. You hang up when they call your flight to take to the ice for warmup and give your phone back to Brenda for safe keeping.

☼☼☼☼

Joel tries hard not to feel too out of place while he takes his seat. For someone who practically lives in arenas he feels like it’s his first time within fifty yards of one. Everyone around him is dressed nicely, and he’s acutely aware of the fact there is a neon orange pom-pom attached to the top of his hat.

As much as he feels like a baby deer trying to stand, Joel’s beyond excited to be here. It’s been a while since he’s gone somewhere that wasn’t hockey related and getting to support you while he does it is the best scenario ever. There are some potential looks of recognition from those around him, but thankfully no one approaches.

Skaters begin to take the ice and he scans vigilantly for you. You’re doing the best you can to stay warm, jacket zipped all the way up and gloves on your hands. Joel notices you seem to be the loosest of the girls below him but isn’t sure if that’s a good thing. You skate a few quick laps before warming up some jumps. Everything goes well, though he can tell you under-rotated a few of them and didn’t attempt the one quad in your program. The warm up is over as quickly as it began and you’re herded off the ice. Joel sinks a little further in his seat as gets ready to watch your competitors.

☼☼☼☼

There’s just over five minutes until you take to the ice. You keep your body moving, walking up and down the corridor, and blast your pre-competition playlist so loud you’ll probably have hearing damage when you’re older. Only one other girl in the hall with you but it feels too small. Brenda comes to grab you and the pair of you walk to the side of the boards. You don’t watch who’s currently skating, choosing instead to focus on adjusting your feet slightly in your skates.

“Go out there and put on a show,” Brenda says. “Fuck the judges.”

You laugh at her remark. “Okay Bren, when I lose points for flipping them off I’m blaming you.”

“Fine by me. I have a bone to pick with Mark Johnson anyways.”

The scores for the previous girl are being announced, so you peel your jacket from your frame and do a couple more laps. Right before your name is announced you press your forehead to Brenda’s. It’s a ritual you started back when you were barely as tall as the boards and you’ve done it every single competition since. You feel grounded looking in her eyes, and you break with a fist bump. It’s go time.

Every inch of your skin feels like it’s on fire. You didn’t come to play, and leave everything on the ice. The skate isn’t completely clean, you stumbled on the landing of a triple axel, but you’re happy with it. Despite your fears, both the triple lutz and quad salchow go smoothly. Audience engagement was at an all time high and you finished to deafening applause. Brenda wraps you in a tight hug when you step off the ice before leading you over to the kiss and cry. You chat idly with her and your choreographer, trying to catch your breath, while you wait for your score.

The announcer’s booming voice crackles over the PA as he reads the judges’ decision. “The scores for Y/N Y/L/N please.” You don’t pay attention to the individual numbers, just the final total. “For a total score of 74.83.”

It’s lower than you had hoped for. Not by much, just two or three points, but it could mean all the difference in tomorrow’s skate. Brenda pats your leg sympathetically and whispers in your, “It’s alright. You skated well.”

You head back to the dressing room to watch the final skater on the small T.V in the corner while you get undressed. She’s phenomenal, and you end the day falling to third place. Joel’s hip-hop playlist blasts through your headphones as you do your cool down routine. The average tempo is upbeat and helps to take your mind off the fact you’re not where you want to be. Just as you’re about to exit the room and find Brenda to talk strategy there’s a knock on the door.

“Yeah?” you say dejectedly, the word coming out as more of a sigh than you had intended.

The door is cracked open, and the head of your best friend peaks out from around it. “Hey there rockstar,” Joel says softly, stepping further into the room. Once you comprehend that he’s really here you’re sprinting in his direction, jumping into his embrace. Joel’s laugh reverberates in his chest, and you feel it as you settle further into him.

“Why are you here?” you whisper. Though you’re elated Joel is here, you’re confused as to why he would want to spend his break in Utah.

He lets you down gently and shrugs. “I had to see if you’d land the quad.” Joel’s smile matches yours as you shake your head.

“You’re fucking insane,” you quip, but there’s no malice in your voice.

Before you can pester Joel into answering all your questions you’re whisked away to a press conference. Talking to the media is something you don’t particularly enjoy, and it’s even more difficult to stay present when you know you could be spending time with your best friend. Most of the questions are directed towards the girls who placed higher than you which you’re thankful for. It’s easier for you to zone out, and you root through your mind of places around the city to take Joel.

“Y/N, how tough will it be for you to better your scores in tomorrow’s free skate?”

The question is one that you expected, luckily, and you’re able to recite the response you worked out with Brenda without really engaging with the reporter. “I mean I obviously didn’t aim to be in third place heading into tomorrow,” you joke, “But I’m fairly happy with where I ended up. The other girls had fantastic skates and deserve to be above me. My plan for tomorrow is to leave everything on the ice, skate cleanly, and be proud of myself regardless of what happens.”

Pens scribble furiously by those that don’t have recording devices to get your words down on paper. There’s some chatter, questions for the other girls, before a young reporter fresh out of journalism school is allowed to speak. He identifies himself as Theo Rateliff before jumping in. “Y/N,” he says, “How excited are you to get back to training on home ice when you get back to Jersey?”

“Um, I didn’t know the renovations were finished,” you stammer. “As far as I know, I’ll be at Flyers SkateZone until the end of the season.”

Theo shakes his head. “My partner was informed this morning that the rink will be good to go by the time you get back.”

You turn to the side to look at Brenda, who just shrugs. “Well, to be quite honest I’ll miss being in Voorhees. I had fun skating there and feel like the rink prepared me well for this competition.”

“Obviously not well enough,” Theo retorts, not missing a beat. “Your odds of winning dropped by seventy-seven percent.”

“Thank you for the reminder Theo,” you snap. “Are we done here?”

The press-coordinator shakes their head in confirmation, and you rip the microphone off your jacket before stomping off. People clear a path for you, not wanting to get caught in your storm. You run right to Joel who lets you direct him out of the arena and into the uber he called while you were wrapping up.

It’s a silent ride, Joel knowing you aren’t in the mood for light conversation. He lets you take a ridiculously long shower and orders take out that arrives just as you step out of the bathroom.

“Where are you staying?” you ask as you detangle your hair.

“Nowhere yet,” Joel says, “I got in early this morning and went straight to the rink.”

You think carefully about your next words before you speak. Your competition routines can be excessive and annoying, and you don’t want to inconvenience him. “You could just stay here. The room is massive and there’s more than enough space for both of us in the bed.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, voice taking a soft lilt. “I’d really like it if you stayed.”

Joel smiles wider than you’ve ever seen him do before. The two of you sit comfortably in bed, eating the burritos Joel got and going down a conspiracy theory youtube wormhole. He asks how you feel about him coming to watch your evening training session you have to leave for in twenty minutes. You tell him you’d be angry if he didn’t stand beside your coach and clap every time you landed a jump.

It’s chilly but the sun is shining bright so you decide to bundle up and walk to the rink. Joel pokes fun at you beanie and you swat him in the chest, shutting him up for the time being after his giggles subside. The view is gorgeous, mountains framing the setting sun. You squeeze Joel’s bicep to get his attention and relish the feeling of his muscle in your grip.

“Look! An owl!”

Sure enough, a barn owl is flying over top of you, in the middle of downtown Salt Lake City. “That’s my good luck charm. Means I’ll skate well tomorrow.”

Joel pokes your cheek lightly. “I thought I was your good luck charm,” he gasps.

You roll your eyes. “I guess you can be my secondary one.” Joel doesn’t seem to mind the fact your arms are still wrapped around his, so you stay that way until for the rest of the journey.

☼☼☼☼

The night goes according to plan. You skate well in practice and feel comfortable for tomorrow’s event. Joel executes his role perfectly, cheering when you do things well and squirting water at you to make you squeal in laughter when things get a little too serious. Once back at the hotel you collapse into bed almost immediately. You’re so exhausted you can’t even be bothered to climb under the covers, and wait until Joel pulls them back for himself to crawl in. There’s no awkwardness at sharing a bed with Joel, and you sigh contently as he pulls you into his side. Sleep comes easily then for the both of you.

You wake before both your alarm and Joel. It takes you a second to get your bearing and realize you’re pinned against his body, though you don’t mind. There’s worse places to be stuck. You lay curled into Joel for as long as you can, but eventually you have to shake him awake.

“Beezer,” you whisper, ruffling his hair, “You’ve gotta let me out.”

He groans something unintelligible but instead of heeding your words pulls you closer. “Joel come on,” you try again, “I’ve really gotta get up. Need to shower before I get to the rink.”

Joel listens this time, but only lets you go after squeezing you tight for a second. You go about your routine with him still passed out in bed and giggle at the way his hair curls around his ears when you pass by. As you’re leaving to get to your practice ice slot Joel wakes up, lumbering into the bathroom. He reappears a minute or two later to say goodbye.

“Will I see you after practice?” he asks, voice still gruff with sleep.

“Probably not,” you reply, leaning down to tie your shoes. “I won’t be coming back here until after everything is done.”

Joel nods and wraps you in a warm hug. “You’re going to do great,” he says as he pulls away. “I’ll be there, cheering so fucking loud.”

“I expect you to throw a teddy bear on the ice after I finish.”

The walk to the arena is lonely without Joel, but you push the thought out of your mind. You need to stay focused on putting on the skate of your life in a few hours and not on how lately you’ve been having more-than-friendly thoughts about your best friend. Brenda is there when you arrive, making conversation about what you did last night with Joel before explaining how you’re going to run your practice.

Your hour of semi-private ice passes in the blink of an eye. The other girls in your flight are just as tense as you, popping jumps and doing a lot of stroking to loosen up. A lot is riding on today’s event and you’d be lying if you weren’t feeling the pressure. When you get back to the dressing room and check your phone, you notice there’s a text from Joel.

Don’t want to disrupt your pre-comp routine, but I thought I’d share a playlist. It’s songs that remind me of you.

Included is a link to a spotify playlist entitled ‘my golden girl’. You open it with a smile, noticing that it starts with some of your favourite songs even though they aren’t the kind of thing Joel regularly listens to before turning into things you’ve never heard before.

Thanks <3, you respond, going to listen to it during my off-ice.

That’s exactly what you do. It filters through your headphones for hours as you stretch, do a quick interview for those watching on television, and get dressed. Though it’s a break from your typical routine, it’s welcome. Knowing Joel thought about you enough to make you a playlist and send it to you helps calm your nerves.

“Hey kiddo,” Brenda says as she walks to where you’ve taken up root on the floor. Your left hamstring is tight, and you’re trying desperately to fix it before you have to go on the ice. “Go out there and absolutely kill it. This is your best program, and I haven’t seen anyone skate better than what you can do today.”

“Gee thanks for the confidence booster Bren,” you chuckle before hoisting yourself onto the bench to tie your skates.

She doesn’t laugh. “I mean it Y/N. You can still win this thing.”

You’re left alone to finish getting ready and then join the other girls in the tunnel. No one talks, which you’re grateful for. When you were younger and coming up through the ranks the other competitors liked to gossip while they waited and it was your least favourite part of an entire competition. A camera man waits at the end of the walkway, filming your arrival to the ice pad, and you wave cheerily as you pass by. It can never hurt to endear yourself to those watching at home – maybe they’ll be nicer to you on the internet.

Joel is standing at the edge of the boards during your warmup, watching and cheering intently. In a moment of insane confidence you blow him a kiss as you skate past, and giggle hysterically when he catches it and holds it close to his chest. You’re called off the ice then and spend the time really getting into the zone.

It’s considered bad luck to watch the performances before your own, so you face the wall as you do jog lightly to keep your body temperature up and the adrenaline flowing. Much sooner than you’d like it’s your turn to take your guards and jacket off. Brenda holds your skating hands as she whispers last minute words of encouragement, and you stumble through the traditional handshake before presenting yourself to the crowd.

Once the music starts your brain checks out and instinct takes over. You learned when you were younger that your best skates happened when you just allowed yourself to feel, and you desperately need the skate of a lifetime. Going into the first jumping pass you can feel yourself tense up so you think about Joel’s smile while you guys sat by the lake last night. It works to loosen you up, and you spend the rest of the program thinking of your favourite moments with Joel. As you strike your final pose the music fades out and the roars of applause cascade in. You know you had a flawless performance, beaming as you fist pump the air in the same manner you chirp Joel for doing while he celebrates goals.

You bow to the crowd in all directions, waving and laughing as flowers and teddy bears fall onto the ice in front of you. An orange blob of fur catches your eye, and you skate to pick it up before one of the volunteers could put it in the bag that will join your garment bag in the dressing room. You know Joel is the one who threw the Gritty toy – no one else really knows of your affiliations with the team. As you sit in the kiss and cry awaiting your results, you examine the stuffed animal. Instead of the regular Gritty jersey Joel replaced it with his own, the number flashing vividly at you and pulling a smile from your nervous features.

Brenda keeps her hand clasped tightly in yours as the PA system crackles to life. “And the scores for Y/N Y/L/N are,” the announcer begins, and your knee begins bouncing rapidly. “The free skate score is 155.79, for a total score of 230.62.”

You jump up in amazement. Despite your slow start to the competition you managed to get a season’s best. You’re also five points ahead of the second place skater, guaranteeing you a place on the podium and depending on the final results, a spot at worlds. A volunteer ushers you out of the kiss and cry and you skip all the way down the tunnel. To get out some of the adrenaline you jog the corridor a few times before returning to Brenda.

“Come on,” she laughs, “Joel’s waiting at the edge of the public area. We can watch the final skate together.”

At the mention of Joel you’re jogging again, wanting to see him as fast as possible. “Beezer!” you shriek as you approach, launching into the elaborate handshake the two of you have perfected at this point.

“Hey golden girl,” he chuckles, returning your actions with just as much enthusiasm. “You looked fucking great out there. I see you got my gift.”

The Gritty doll is still in your hands but there’s no shame. Instead, you tuck it under your arm and rest your head against Joel’s shoulder to watch the final skater. The girl after you had fallen a number of times, dropping her total significantly and landing her in fifth place. Victory is so close you can almost taste it.

It’s the longest six minutes of your life. Watching her skate increases your anxiety – she’s good, has almost as great a skate as you, but she under-rotated a jump and rushed through her program so there was extra music at the end. The clock above your head rings throughout the silent corridor as everyone awaits the scores with baited breath. In under a minute you’ll know whether you’re returning to New Jersey with a gold or silver medal in your suitcase.

You don’t hear anything as they announce her score – just see the numbers flash of the small T.V screen and calculate that it’s not enough for her to beat you. After years of blood, sweat, and an immeasurable amount of tears you’ve crossed another goal off your list. Those around you are jumping and screaming, Brenda letting a few tears escape. All you can think about is Joel, who’s celebrating like he just scored the game winning goal in the Stanley Cup finals, and how much you love him.

Without thinking, you smash your lips against Joel’s. It’s adrenaline filled and mostly teeth until he wraps one hand around your waist and the places the other along your jaw. Then it becomes purposeful, both of you moving in tandem and never wanting it to stop. When Joel pulls away and rests his forehead against yours you can’t stop smiling. The kiss might have happened in the heat of the moment, but you know it’s the culmination of feelings building inside of you for months.

“You’re a national champion,” Joel says, pulling you flush against his chest in the biggest hug you’ve ever received.

“I’m your national champion,” you whisper.

He pulls back and grins, kissing you again. “You’re my national champion. My golden girl.”

The rest of your stay in Salt Lake City is a blur. You’re swept up in the numerous press events, galas, and enjoying your blossoming relationship with Joel. When you finally got back to the hotel after what seemed like hours of people complimenting your comeback, the two of you sat down and talked about the kiss and what you wanted to happen next. It was scary, being so vulnerable, but it needed to happen – you’re both adults and communication is important. So, you’re returning home with a gold medal and boyfriend, two things you’re ecstatic about.

☼☼☼☼

“J, it’s not straight,” you giggle. Joel’s trying, and failing miserably, to hang the shadow box with your nationals medal in it above your couch. It’s been almost a month since you returned home but you’ve been so busy that decorating the apartment you barely spend time in has been at the bottom of your to-do list.

He grunts out a response. “Fuck. Do I have to go left or right?”

“Left.” The picture shifts in the opposite direction. “The other left Joel!”

A few minutes later the decoration is sitting perfectly in place. Your child of a boyfriend insists on getting rewarded for his achievement, so the two of you bundle up and get dinner. It’s nothing fancy – just sandwiches from the deli down the street from your apartment, but spending time with him is nice. Joel’s been on a string of short road trips and you’ve been training anxiously, waiting for the organization to announce who they’re sending to the world championship.

“How’s practice been lately?” Joel asks, mouth full with a bite of his BLT. “I miss being able to watch you skate whenever I want.”

After returning from Utah you were shuttled immediately into the freshly renovated rink of your skating club. It’s a little farther into Jersey and certainly not as convenient for him to get to, especially now that the NHL season is picking up and the Flyers are clinging desperately to the final playoff spot. “It’s been interesting,” you shrug, “I’m skating well, and physically I feel great. There’s a mental block or something though because everything feels a little bit off.”

The smile that graces Joel’s face can only be described as shit-eating. “Duh, I’m not there.”

“Fuck off.” Though you try to make the words come out in a serious tone, there’s no malice in them.

Conversation flips to some ridiculous story Travis told at practice that morning, and you giggle as Joel recounts it with failing arms. You tell a few stories of your own, that leave him in stitches, and as you walk home hand in hand he asks you again to come to a game. With your schedule a little more flexible as you wait for a decision about the upcoming competition stint it will be much easier to see Joel play. You say yes with a shy smile and don’t miss the way the boy beside you blushes under the streetlights.

Joel stays over, and the next two nights after that. It’s nice, falling into a relationship with your best friend, because there’s no awkwardness. You know what kind of cereal to keep in your pantry and he knows you don’t eat meat on Mondays. Everything is easy. There are a fews in the road, as can be expected with any budding relationship, but for the most part your lives fit seamlessly together.

After some meticulous planning, you found a home game on the Flyers schedule that will coincide with yours. It’s a Friday night near the end of February, and it’s actually the last day US Figure Skating can announce their assignments for worlds. You figure watching your boyfriend is the perfect way to distract yourself from the decision, whether or not you make the team. Joel’s ecstatic about your attendance, wanting you to be immersed in as many aspects of his life as possible. The entire day he’s bouncing around your apartment, beyond ready for puck drop.

“It’s literally three in the afternoon,” you grumble as Joel corrals you into the hall to put your shoes on. “You never leave this early! Why do we have to do it today?” In an attempt to save gas and lower your carbon footprint you’re carpooling with Joel.

“Because being in this house is making you more anxious,” he points out. “I’ve caught you staring into the distance one too many times today. Besides, this way you can meet up with some of the other girls and relax before the game.”

Joel’s right, as he so often is. Your agent hasn’t called to let you know if you made the team or not, nor has US Figure Skating made an announcement on social media. So you’ve spent the entire day pacing back and forth around your living room and fretting that perhaps the best performance of your season wasn’t good enough. He twirls his car keys around his index finger in an attempt to speed you along and you roll your eyes at his impatience.

After ensuring your home is safely secured you hit the road. The drive into Philadelphia is easy, with little traffic, and you spend it laughing at Joel’s ridiculous freestyle raps. It doesn’t surprise you that the staff lot at the Wells Fargo Centre is sparsely populated – most of the guys don’t show up until around five, Joel included. However, a group of women are standing near the entrance. While this isn’t the first time you’ve met significant others of your boyfriend’s teammates, it’s the first time Joel won’t be around.

“It’ll be alright,” he whispers as the car settles into park. You offer a small smile that mustn't have been convincing because Joel lifts the hand that’s intertwined with his to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to the knuckles. The smile becomes genuine and you tease him the entire walk to the door.

Joel greets the other girls before setting his bag down on the concrete and wrapping you in a hug. “Have fun,” you say softly against his lips, landing a short kiss. He winks and opens the door, disappearing inside and leaving you in a fit of giggles.

There was no reason for you to be nervous – everyone is incredibly kind. You seem to be the youngest in the group, but the other girls pay no mind and treat you as one of their own. There’s a small amount of confusion when your phone chimes with a notification, a few glances of possible distaste, but as soon you explain you’re waiting on a very important call they understand. Dinner is wonderful, filled with sincere questions about your skating career and how you got together with Joel. By the time you get back to the arena for the game it feels as though you’ve been a part of the group for years.

You spend the game in the family and friends box, sipping a glass of wine and following Joel around the ice. Practice is early in the morning and you want to be productive, so you’re relaxed in your alcohol consumption compared to some of the others. One of the older girls, though you can’t remember what player is her significant other, recently got engaged and is celebrating with as many drinks as those around her will allow. It’s fun to experience a hockey game in this way, but you’re a little on edge. You haven’t anything about worlds assignments all day and the organization doesn’t typically leave the announcement to this late in the evening. There’s seven minutes left in the game when your phone rings. You quickly excuse yourself from the group and step into the hall.

“Hello?”

“Y/N,” the chipper voice of your agent Megan says, “How are you?”

A nervous laughter tumbles from your lips. “I think that depends on what you’re about to tell me.”

“I imagined you’d say something along those lines,” she responds. “You’ve always been quite witty.” Before you ask her to just get to the point of the phone call, Megan speaks. “I have some good news and some bad news for you. You’re going to the World Championships, but you aren’t leading the team like we hoped.”

It’s not as bad as she made it sound. A breath you didn’t know you were holding escapes, and you try your best to remain professional in the hallway of the arena. “Honestly,” you sigh, “I think that’s better. There’s going to be a lot less pressure for me to bring home three Olympic spots. Thanks for letting me know Meg.” She hangs up then, no doubt having to tell another girl she didn’t make the cut.

When you slip back through the door, you find all eyes on you. “What was that about?”

“I made the roster for worlds.”

Earth-shattering applause erupts from everyone in the room, and no one pays attention to what happens on the ice for the remainder of the game. The congratulations continue until you’re waiting outside the dressing room for Joel to exit. He had a good game, featuring two assists and a blocked shot, and smiles lazily when he sees you leaning against the brick wall.

“This is something I could get used to,” he chuckles, pulling you into him by the belt loops of your jeans. The two of you kiss for a moment, letting it stay chaste in fear of getting chirped by teammates.

“Well,” you sigh dramatically, drawing out the suspense of what you’re about to say, “You’re going to have to wait a bit longer for it to become a regular occurrence. My training schedule just increased exponentially.”

Joel sits on your words for a moment before it registers. “No fucking way!” he shouts, picking you up by the waist as the two you are a pairs team. “You got the spot?”

Having Joel be so excited about the accomplishment makes it seem that much more real. Tears well in your eyes and you shake your head up and down to signal he’s correct. Joel presses his lips to yours once again, this time not caring about any insults his friends could throw at him. The kiss makes you feel loved, fully and completely, and you hope you’re conveying the same amount of emotion he is.

“That’s my girl.”

☼☼☼☼

“Oh my fucking god,” you grumble, picking yourself off the ice for what feels like the hundredth time in the past five minutes. There’s two weeks until you leave for Milan and it looks like you’ve never skated before. Jumps are being under-rotated, spins aren’t being entered properly, and your footwork sequence is abysmal. Nothing about the way you’re performing would let a newcomer know you’re a world class athlete.

Brenda gives you a sympathetic smile. “Just try again kiddo.”

You do try again – fifteen more times to be exact. Each attempt at a triple axel getting farther and farther from what it should be. Before you get even more frustrated you abandon the element altogether, hoping to avoid a complete meltdown. No one questions it when you shift disciplines completely and move about the ice completing a simple foxtrot pattern. Ice dance has always been a great de-stresser for you, and after a few passes you feel your heart rate return to normal. At some point during your break Joel had entered the rink and is now standing beside your coach, making pleasant conversation. You smile as you skate towards them, ecstatic that the two most important parts of your life blend seamlessly.

“Farabee!” you shout when you get close enough for him to hear you. At the sound of your voice Joel smiles, turning to pick up your water bottle and toss it in your direction.

“I’m wounded babe,” he feigns pain as you take a drink, “I really thought that we were on at least a first name basis.”

You roll your eyes at his dramatics and playfully squirt water at him. “I’ll call you whatever I want. What brings you this far into Jersey?”

“Thought I’d see if you wanted to grab lunch after you were done. We’ve got a late practice today,” he explains. “Whatever you want, eh? Does that mean I say whatever I want? Because I think you’re looking particularly good in those leggings.tum” You don’t miss the suggestive tone to his voice, but choose to ignore it.

Joel watches the rest of your practice from his spot at the boards and lays himself across the dressing room bench as you complete a quick cool down routine. You have a meeting with your massage therapist in the afternoon, so you follow Joel to the restaurant he chose. It’s a small vegan place that you sometimes stop at on your way home from the rink. They have the best burrito bowls you’ve ever tasted and since you’ve gotten together Joel has become rather fond of them as well.

The two of you sit outside on the curb. New Jersey is uncharacteristically warm for March and you want to enjoy the sunshine as much as possible. The rest of the day will be spent in dark rooms receiving physical therapy and trying to ease your tired muscles. There isn’t much conversation, but you’re more than content just to be with Joel. Life moves incredibly fast and your schedules don’t always line up nicely. It’s difficult to spend time with him, especially when you’re weeks out from a major competition, but small moments like this keep you from missing your boyfriend too much.

“Have I asked you to take me to the airport yet? I can’t remember,” you admit as you finish the last bite of your meal.

Joel laughs at your lapse in memory, knowing he gets the same way when high stakes games roll around. “No, but you would like me to?”

“Do you mind?” you ask, “That way I don’t have to leave my car at the airport for a week and a half. But if you can't, don't worry about it, I’ll grab an uber.”

“Babe, the uber will be like fifty bucks. I’ll take you. What time do you have to be there?”

You give him a much too detailed itinerary of your departure plans and listen to him talk about the drills they’re going to run at practice. Time passes much quicker than you would have liked, and soon you’re kissing him goodbye and watching him wave from your rearview mirror.

It’s almost a week later when you see Joel again, showing up at a Flyers practice for the first time since training moved back to your home rink. You’ve been instructed to have a rest day, the team wanting to push you too hard before taking off. The arena attendants know you well at this point, and chat with you as you sit on a bench away from the media. You know better than you alert them of your presence – some of them no doubt wanting a comment from you about worlds. Joel has no idea you’re even there until long after practice, when he sees you leaning casually against the driver’s side door of your car, conveniently parked next to his.

“Hey all-star,” you say as casually as possible, twirling your keys around your index finger.

He leans down to kiss you sweetly, and though you probably shouldn’t in a parking lot, you push your body closer to his in an attempt to deepen the kiss. Joel obliges you, tongue gently slipping into your mouth, staying there until you both hear the shouts of his teammates.

“Fuck off,” he yells at Kevin, who’s hollering so loud people can probably hear him all the way back in Philadelphia. “What are you doing here?”

“I have a day off,” you smile, and I thought I’d come see if I could hitch a ride to your place.” You had originally planned to attend the game in person, but a rough day of training yesterday had you too sore to do much other than lie on the couch.

“The chariot awaits m’lady,” he says in a terrible British accent, bowing for good measure as he opens the door. Your car will be fine in the parking lot overnight, so you slip in and enjoy the journey into the city.

Joel’s pre-game routine changes only slightly with you in his apartment – instead of napping alone, you curl into his chest and snore softly, lulling him into one of the most peaceful sleeps he’s ever had. You tie his tie for him and riffle his hair before kissing him good luck. Being alone in Joel’s apartment isn’t as strange as you thought it would be, and you familiarize yourself with his kitchen while you make dinner. The pre-game show plays quietly in the background, and when they mention how well Joel is playing you can’t help but smile.

It’s much more comfortable to watch the game in your boyfriend’s hoodie and pyjama pants on the couch than it would be to sit in the stiff arena seats. Time passes at a pretty leisurely pace, with nothing too exciting going on within the game, and sometime in the third period you fall asleep. The rest of the game and all the media appearances pass you by. Joel figures you must be sleeping when he doesn’t get a congratulatory text when Claude pulls off a buzzer beater to win. His suspensions are confirmed when he slips through his front door to see you drooling slightly on the throw pillow his mom bought him as a housewarming gift.

You don’t remember climbing into bed, but you wake up with Joel’s socked feet pressed against your calves. He stirs behind you and mummers something unintelligible.

“What was that sleepyhead?” you giggle, turning around to run a hand through his hair. It’s rather unruly at the moment and you find it adorable.

“Good morning,” he repeats.

“That’s what that was?”

“Leave me alone.”

The two of you lay in bed for a few more minutes before starting the day. You navigate around Joel flawlessly – like you’re there every morning. Breakfast is quick and you’re out the door before you have a chance to cherish the domesticity of it all. You have a pretty intense day of training and Joel has to be at the airport in two hours for a trip to Toronto. He drops you off in Voorhees, kissing you gently before making his way back into the city. You hate to see him go, wishing you could spend more time together before you head to worlds, but you know you’re both adults with real-world responsibilities.

For the first time in the final push you have a practice that is up to standard. Things click into place and you feel good. Really good. Each time you skate a program it’s clean, and the elements don’t feel weak when completed individually. Maybe you’ll actually be able to pull this off.

☼☼☼☼

Italy is beautiful, but you don’t get much time to enjoy it. A scheduling mishap has team USA leaving two days later than you were supposed to and now you’re all scrambling to find a groove. Every moment is being spent preparing for the competition – off ice training, multiple practices a day, press conferences. When you get a moment to spare you call Joel, but oftentimes he’s at practice or fulfilling other obligations. The time difference is brutal and souring your mood. You feel alone, and just wish Joel could be by your side like he was at nationals.

As soon as you step on the ice something feels wrong. You run through a mental checklist and assure that nothing is – your skates feel they way they should and you didn’t forget any gear. It must be nerves. The competition officially starts tomorrow and you’re eager to cheer on the pairs teams America has brought. You do your best to skate it out, and by the time you’re allowed to have the ice to yourself you can almost convince yourself everything will be fine.

The music starts and you snap into character. Your short program music is punchy and so are you – all sass and sharp angles as you navigate the opening step sequence. A lump forms in your throat as you set up the first first jumping pass, but you push it down. You’ve done a thousand triple lutz-triple toe-loop combinations and could execute it flawlessly in your sleep.

Everything happens so fast. One second you’re rotating through the air and the next you’re sprawled across the ice. Nothing feels off until you try to pick yourself up. When you can’t move your left leg you look to see what the issue is and find your kneecap where it most certainly should not be. It’s rotated nearly one hundred and eighty degrees, now residing in the back instead of the front.

“Help me!” you scream, mostly out of shock. There’s no pain which surprises you, but you know it definitely should hurt. Everyone around the ice surface is frozen in place, not knowing what happened or what to do, and you continue to sob helplessly.

Someone sprints to get the onsite emergency responders and Brenda runs to you as fast as her dress shoes will allow. “Don’t look at it honey,” she soothes. “It’s just going to make things worse.”

“It should hurt,” you croak out through the tears, “Why doesn’t it hurt?”

“You’ve got so much adrenaline pumping through your veins you can’t feel anything,” the EMT explains in flawless English. “Can we take your skates off?”

You nod, and the right skate comes off breezily. Brenda unlaces your left skate and the medical team works to pry the boot from your foot. A sharp pain shoots up your leg and you wail in agony. “Shh, it’s okay,” your coach coos, “The skate is going to stay on until we get to the hospital.”

The ride to the hospital feels like time is moving through sludge. The paramedics keep an eye on your blood pressure and do their best to keep you calm. Brenda is typing furiously on her phone, and you ask what she’s doing as the vehicle pulls into the ambulance bay.

“The ISU rep told me to keep him updated,” she explains. “And I’m trying to vote on which alternate is going to take your place.”

You knew that was going to happen, you couldn’t possibly skate, but it makes you unbelievably sad. All your hard work is going to amount to nothing. No one cares about national champions who don’t place at worlds, and the injury is going to sideline you in next year’s olympic race. The emergency room has a bed ready for you, and the doctor arrives as you’re being transferred into it.

“Miss Y/L/N, I’m Dr. Morelli. We’re going to put your patella back into place. It’s going to be incredibly painful, so we’re to sedate you. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” you say as strongly as you can, though it comes out feeble and hoarse.

A nurse inserts an IV into your arm and smiles at you. They have you count backwards from ten, and by the time you get to eight you’re asleep. There’s a brief moment of panic when you wake up as you forgot where you are. “You’re awake,” Brenda speaks softly from the bedside. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you admit. “It hurts so fucking bad.”

She gives you a sympathetic smile. “I know. They’re going to come get you for x-rays in a few minutes and then we’ll go back to the hotel.”

“Oh my god,” you gasp. “I’ve gotta call Joel. Bren, give me your phone.”

Laughter comes from the device’s speakers, and you realize she’s one step ahead of you.

“There’s my girl,” Joel whispers, eyes landing on yours as the phone lands in your hands. “Are you okay?”

The question makes you laugh. “You’re quite the comedian Mr. Farabee. Of course I’m not okay. My leg is currently being held together by a brace and my dreams are ruined.” You soften when you realize how upset Joel looks. “I’ll be fine J, I promise.”

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

“There’s nothing you could have done. It was a freak accident. You can pick me up from the airport.”

He agrees in a heartbeat and tells you about his day to distract you from the pain. You’ll have to ask the nurses for some pain meds before you leave. A nurse comes to take you to the radiology department, and you hang up after reassuring him for the hundredth time that he doesn’t need to fly to Italy to bring you home himself.

Brenda holds you as the adrenaline wears off and your legs twitches rapidly as a trauma response. She helps you navigate around the small room and makes sure you’re able to use the bathroom. Luckily none of her other skaters are competing, and she’s able to travel back to Philadelphia with you once the doctor clears you. It’s a rough flight – there’s a fair amount of turbulence and each bump makes your leg throb. You don’t get a wink of sleep and are grumpy by the time you touch down in Philly. Joel’s waiting at arrivals with a giant sign and a sweet smile. You wheel yourself over to him as quickly as possible, wanting nothing more than to collapse into his arms.

“Welcome home baby,” he whispers, leaning down to catch your lips in an airport appropriate kiss. The reason you’re home so early isn’t brought up which you're incredibly grateful for. Your untimely withdrawal is still a very sore spot.

“I wasn’t gone long,” you laugh, trying to poke fun at the situation before reality gets you too down.

“Long enough for me to miss you a tremendous amount.”

The three of you exit the airport, and Joel drops Brenda off at her house before taking you back to his place. Chuck and the rest of the management team were allowing him to miss a few games until you become more mobile and can’t exist on your own for a few hours. Joel’s bed is calling out to you, but he insists you’ll feel better after a shower and you know he’s right. Showering isn’t something you can do yourself, so Joel keeps your leg straight and elevated as you sit on the stool he bought while waiting for you to return. The grime of travelling is washed away and you feel lighter when you swing into bed, stubbornly refusing Joel’s help.

You convince him to let you watch the broadcast of the event you were supposed to be skating in. It’s probably not the best thing for your mental health, but you want to see how everyone does. Joel sits besides you, arm wrapped around your shoulder, and listens to you explain the rationale behind every element’s score. When your replacement takes the ice you go silent. It’s too much to see her skating in your place so you bury your face into Joel’s neck. There’s no jealousy like you thought there would be, just an infinite amount of sadness that you’re not able to be there.

“You’ll be able to get back there,” Joel reassures you when he feels a tear soak through his sweater.

“That’s not guaranteed,” you sniffle. “I might not ever skate again, let alone compete at any level.”

He shakes his head in disagreement, leading you to quirk a brow. “I know you. You’re going to do it. It won’t be easy, but you’re the most determined person I’ve ever met. People bounce back after major injuries all the time. I’ll be by your side the entire time, helping you through.”

“I love you,” you blurt out. The gravity of your words sinks in and you gasp. You haven’t said those words to each other yet, but they feel right.

“I love you too,” Joel smiles, kissing the tip of your nose. “Now pay attention to the TV, that girl you beat at Skate Canada is up next.”

☼☼☼☼

Recovery hasn’t been easy. There have been so many days where all you want to do is throw in the towel and cry, but Joel keeps you going. He insists you to your physical therapy exercises with him so you aren’t alone, and he comes to as many doctor’s appointments as he possibly can. After the Flyers get eliminated from the playoffs he doesn’t return home for the summer, choosing to stay in the Philly area with you. Having him there is a massive help, and you power through the pain.

The Flyers are hosting a family skate before training camp, and it will be your first time on skates in nearly six months. Your doctors have cleared it as long as you take it slow and basically let Joel pull you around the rink but you don’t care. It gives you hope that one day you’ll be back to full strength.

“Ready to do this thing?” Joel asks, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers.

You nod enthusiastically and let him pull you from the bench to the tunnel and down to the boards. Joel steps on the ice first, keeping his hands up in case you need them for support. A few of the significant others notice what’s happening and they erupt in applause once both your feet are planted on the surface. Joel joins them, his eyes watering when he sees how happy you are to be skating again.

“I do believe you promised me a few laps lover boy,” you wink.

“Yes ma’am,” Joel giggles as he mock salutes. He places his hands in yours and guides you gently, careful not to go too fast or get too close to other groups. The two of you giggle and stop to kiss frequently but no one says anything. You’ve worked incredibly hard to get here and they’re perfectly content letting you have your moment. Standing at centre ice you feel complete, and you know it’s all thanks to Joel.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @samsteel @kiedhara @tortito @boqvistsbabe @iwantahockeyhimbo @himbos-on-ice if you want to be added just shoot me an ask :)

#this right here is my baby #joel farabee imagine #joel farabee x reader #joel farabee fic #philadelphia flyers imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #cwrites

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quinncupine · 3 years

Note

Hi if you’re comfortable with Writing MIDORIYA has a crush a on reader and all might notice so he help them get together

Hello! I'm so sorry this took a while to get to. I took another writing break but im back to write this request! It is a bit cheesy, I'm not really sure how to write All Might but I wanted to take a crack at it so I hope you enjoy this silly piece!

Quinns Masterlist

Wanna request something?

Matchmaker

Word Count: 3,400

Relationship: Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

"Sorry I'm late," Izuku slid into the chair, a bit out of breath from running the whole way to the restaurant. "There was a small incident I had to take care of."

"No worries, I've only been here a few minutes myself." Yagi gave his pupil a warm smile. "I hope everything was resolved?"

"Oh yeah, it was just a purse snatcher. Nothing big." He waved it off, grabbing the water in front of him.

The café was a nice little hole in the wall Izuku had found a few weeks ago. It was hardly ever busy, even during the lunch rush hour, so it was easy to stop by to grab a quick bite. When he mentioned it to Yagi, it sort of turned into their informal weekly get-together spot. With Izuku's hero career on the rise, he was finding himself busier and busier every day, which meant he couldn't see his mentor as often. So he always looked forward to their lunch dates.

"Back again?" your bright voice said between them. "You fellas are like clockwork."

Izuku, mid-sip, turned to you and nearly choked on his water. They'd been coming here for three weeks now and for the third week in a row, you'd been their server. Maybe it was the way you smiled at him or maybe it was the way you always snuck quick glances at him from across the room, but Izuku's brain always seemed to turn off around you.

He didn’t even realize he'd spilled his water until you pulled a towel from your apron to wipe up the puddle on the table. Izuku stammered out an apology as he looked up at you, cheeks tinged cherry red at his fumble, but you only smiled in return.

"It looks like you could use a minute, I'll go get another water for you." And with that, you took the soaked towel and half-empty cup, disappearing from his tunnel vision.

"You alright?" Yagi tried to keep his serious face on, but he couldn't help the twinkle in his eyes because he was right. Now he just needed his plan to go off smoothly. The only problem; Izuku was anything but smooth.

"Uh…yeah," he said, inspecting his wet shirt. "Sorry, I don't know what happened."

The young pro glanced around the small café. It was pretty empty, which wasn't all the unusual. The few patrons the place did have were scattered about and none seemed to have noticed his little blunder.

"Don't sweat it my boy, it happens." The retired hero checked his cell before pocketing the device. "It's going to be a beautiful weekend, do you have plans?"

"I've picked up a few extra shifts on Saturday for Oxman."

Izuku didn't bother with the menu, he always ordered the same thing. Instead, he tried to dab the water out of the soaked fabric, completely oblivious to you approaching the table for the second time.

"You picked up more shifts? For Saturday?" This was throwing a wrench into Yagi's plans. "Don't you think you should take a break? You've been overworking yourself lately and-"

"I've got fresh water for-" Izuku flinched and before you could even finish the sentence, his arm knocked the glass out of your hand, spilling the contents on the table in a mini waterfall.

Both men jumped up as water cascaded over all four sides. This time, it did catch the attention of the other customers. All eyes on them, Izuku flushed, profusely apologizing for the mess as he grabbed as many napkins as he could.

"Calm down, It's alright," you laughed it off, picking up the dripping menus. "I'll just move you to another table. No worries."

The thought of staying any longer after he so thoroughly embarrassed himself, especially in front of you, was torture. No, he had to get out of here before he messed anything else up.

"I'm sorry, uh, I'm, I have to- uh, I have to go," was all he managed to say before he darted from the building at lightning speed.

Yagi sighed and pulled his phone out, typing furiously. He'd expected a few kinks, but this was quickly going south. No, he could salvage this still. He just needed to adjust his plan. Oxman's sector usually ran through Kinro Park. That could work.

"Sorry about the mess," Yagi sighed, crossing his arms.

"It's fine, but is he alright?" You couldn't help but stare out the door that Izuku bolted from.

"The life of a hero." He turned to you. "He's been working so much and unfortunately he'll miss the festivities on Saturday."

"What festivities?" You cocked your head, focusing on him.

"Oh, you didn't hear?" He smiled. Yes, this could work.

Saturday came all too quickly and Izuku found himself in Kinro Park, a large expanse of land that many people flocked to during warm days such as this one. It had everything: ponds, trails, bridges, forests, etc. The park was crowded today with all sorts of people trying to enjoy the nice weather.

An hour into patrol and the only things he'd done so far was catching a stray balloon from floating away and retrieving some phones people had dropped in a few ponds. Not very exciting, but it was nice to have a few days where he didn't have to fight super-powered villains. Small things like these were also part of being a hero.

When he wasn't saving phones from drowning, he thought back on the events that happened earlier that week. Replaying the disaster at the café over and over in his head. How could he possibly go back now? Especially when he acted like a bull in a china shop around you. He was a pro hero for goodness sake, nothing should be able to beat him, yet there you were, taking him down with a single disarmingly cute smile. What was wrong with him?

Lost in thought, he hadn't realized he had walked down one of the smaller trails that lead towards an even smaller grove where a couple of picnic tables were scattered about the grassy area. This trail was a lesser-known path that lead into the heart of the forest, but hardly anyone ever came here simply because the dirt path was so obscure and overgrown, most didn't bother. He was about to turn back when he heard a crack and a startled yelp.

Without a second of hesitation, he kicked it into high gear, racing into the grove to see someone hanging off a branch, halfway up a large oak tree. The mostly broken-off branch they were hanging on was too thin to support anyone's weight so it was only a matter of time before it completely gave way. When the branch finally snapped, Izuku was there, catching them bridle style, midair with ease. What he was not expecting was to come face to face with you: hair ruffled, eyes wide, and a tight grip around his neck.

"Deku!" you whispered a bit breathless. "Thanks."

You knew his name. Sure he was a hero on the rise, but he wasn't a top pro yet and in his opinion, no one very recognizable. Baffled by the recognition, he could only stare and stumble slightly when he landed.

"Deku?" you said again, cocking your head slightly as he still kept a solid grip on you once you were back on the ground. "Are you alright?"

That broke him out of his trance. "I think I should be asking you that." Setting you on your feet, he stepped back to give you some space, even as he wished he could stay closer. "Are you alright?"

Inspecting yourself for injuries, you shrugged with a lopsided smile. "Well, I'm still in one piece thanks to you."

"If you don't mind me asking, um, what were you climbing the tree for anyway?"

Snapping your fingers and turning to the tree again, you pointed near the top. "My bag. I don't know how but I set it down on the table and I turned my back for like one second and suddenly it's all the way up there. All my stuff is in there, I can't get home without it." You sighed and turned to him. "And of course, the day I decide to come all the way out here for this festival, I get lost and now my bag is stuck in a tree."

"What festival?" Izuku had been all over this park and he'd heard no talk of a festival happening today.

"All Might told me about it." You looked shyly at Deku. "He said you'd be too busy working to go so he gave me one of his tickets, but those directions were so confusing and I wound up here."

Izuku definitely didn't remember plans to go to any festival with Yagi this week. Although, there was an event happening in the park next week to showcase a new play in the newly refurbished amphitheater. Yagi had been given tickets and he invited Izuku as his plus one. But he would hardly call that a festival and besides, that was next week.

"The tickets in my bag. Maybe you can make sense of those directions?" You perked up, pointing to the swaying bag high up in the tree. "Also, my only way home is in there, so I kinda need it back."

"Right, I'll get it, hold on," he said and easily made the tall leap to swipe the bag off the branch. When he landed, he handed it to you with a nervous smile. "Safe and sound."

"Thank you Deku, really," you said, brushing off a few stray leaves, "I know it was probably stupid to climb the tree, but I am glad you got here when you did. You really saved me there."

"I'm glad I could help." There was a slight linger in the shared gaze before he broke it off shuffling his boots. It was like his body suddenly had no idea what to do around you. "Um, did you say All Might gave you tickets?"

There was a spark in your eyes at the name. "Well, I know you're probably used to it, but when All Might offered them to me, how could I say no? It's All Might!" Even in retirement, All Might was still just as popular.

The fact that you seemed so giddy about it all only made Izuku's heart beat faster. You were excited by heroes just like he was, or rather, still is. But this time, in your eyes, he was one of those heroes.

After digging through your bag, you produced the small ticket and showed it to Izuku. "The map is on the back, but I can't really make sense of it. It almost looks like it was drawn from memory or something. The festival looks like it should be here in this grove, but obviously, that can't be right."

Izuku inspected the ticket. It seemed normal enough, but after a close examination, he could see a small second layer on top of the paper. A quick scratch at it revealed a sticker that when peeled back, showed the actual ticket for the theatre event next week. Just what was Yagi trying to do?

"What is that?" you grabbed the ticket, peeling the rest of the sticker off. "It's a fake? Why would All Might give me a fake ticket?" This time you looked to Izuku for the answer, but he was just as confused as you.

"It's a real ticket, just not to the right event." Izuku crossed his arms. "I don't know why he would do that."

"Great," you sighed, slinging the bag over your shoulder. "Well, I guess there's no reason to stay here. Thanks again Deku, you know, for saving me and all."

He rubbed the back of his head with a lopsided smile. "Anytime. I need to get back to patrol, but if you decide to climb anymore trees anytime soon, I'll be around."

That got a hearty laugh from you and you lightly pushed his shoulder as you walked past him. "Careful hotshot, you're giving me ideas." That got a small blush from the hero. "And if you decide you're hungry again, I'll be at the café." With a wink, you readjusted your bag and headed towards the trail.

Izuku stood there, at a loss for words as you stepped onto the path. What was he supposed to do now? Did you seriously want him back at the café after the catastrophe he left you with last time? A thousand thoughts zipped through his mind so fast he had to remind himself to breathe.

Another startled yelp brought him out of the whirlpool of thoughts he was drowning in and he looked up. There, blocking your exit, was a small drone with a blue glow fading in and out on the top. It was a familiar design he would recognize anywhere: Mei Hatsume. Why one of her drones was out in the middle of the forest was anyone's guess.

"Target locked." A mechanical voice rang out from the small device.

"Uh, is this thing yours?" you asked, slowly backing away from it.

"Engaging enemy," the voice said before two prongs jutted out the front, each sparking with electricity.

Izuku moved so fast you didn't even realize he'd put himself between you and the drone until green filled your vision, his hand rested reassuringly on your arm. Your focus quickly left the drone and turned to his face, or what you could see of it. Jaw locked, eyes narrowed, and a warm hand melting into your skin. This was the closest you'd been to the pro and despite the seemingly dangerous threat in front of you, you didn't feel in danger. Not with Izuku around.

"Whoops, my bad!" Yagi popped his head out from behind the bushes to your right, holding a large remote in his hand. "I'm so sorry about that!" He said, messing with the full panel of buttons. It seemed like overkill for such a small drone, but if this really was Mei's then that would actually make a lot of sense. Yagi didn't seem to understand what any of the buttons did and resorted to button smashing. That was a bad idea.

The machine sparked and glitched in the air, the prongs jutting back in and out a few times. When it finally stilled, the gentle blue darkened to a deep red and the electric prongs were replaced by small turrets. "Activating instant kill mode."

"All Might!" Izuku warned, gripping your arm tighter in case he needed to make a quick escape.

"I've got it! I've got it!" He, in fact, did not have it. But he did continue his rapid button mashing and one of them must've been the off switch because the device immediately beeped twice and crashed ungracefully to the ground. "See, everything's fine!"

"Who puts instant kill mode on a drone?" you breathed, your own bruising grip on Izuku's shoulder not letting up.

Izuku's guard still up, he let go of you to inspect the device lying lifelessly on the ground. When he was satisfied that it was powered down, he turned his glare towards Yagi, who was still standing sheepishly in the bushes.

"What is going on?" you asked, puzzled by pretty much the entire situation.

Izuku marched towards his mentor and grabbed his arm, hauling him out of the bushes. The man didn't put up much of a fight as Izuku lead him a little farther away, holding a hand telling you to wait where you were for just a moment. When he was out of earshot, he looked up at the retired hero.

"What was that?"

"I was just testing out a drone for young Hatsume," Yagi forced a smile, "It was a failure."

"There's something…strange going on with you lately." Izuku glanced back at you, who had ventured closer to the drone in curiosity. "Why'd you give her that ticket? And why'd you cover it up with a fake event?"

Yagi cocked his head, trying to figure out the best way out of this. "Well, I- um I was just trying to help."

"Help with what?"

The older man let out an exhausted sigh. "It's obvious what's going on between the two of you, but I don't think either of you sees it. Ever since you met that girl, you've been distracted. I was just trying to…speed things along."

Izuku blinked, registering the information before he stepped back, face red. "Wait, so you were trying to-to, play matchmaker?" The thought filled the poor hero with such a heavy embarrassment that All Might of all people was interfering with his…love life.

Yagi groaned and rubbed his face. "No, well sort of. Look, I'm sorry, I just, you were getting so lost in your work that you were neglecting other aspects of your life. I didn't mean to go this far, I just wanted you to realize what was in front of you." He placed his hand on Izuku's shoulder with a sigh. "I was exactly like you at your age. Wanting nothing more than to be the hero that everyone could rely on. But at the cost of a personal life. I'm not saying to abandon your goals, but don't make the same mistakes that I did."

Izuku was only half-listening, too focused on the fact that his mentor, a man he considered a father figure, was trying to set him up with you. You, the one person who turned his stomach into a butterfly sanctuary. The person who seemed to unbalance him with a single look. The person who constantly filled his mind- maybe Yagi had a point. But that didn't make it any less awkward.

"So the bag-"

"Was me."

"The tickets?"

"I thought once you realized the mistake, you'd take her to the show instead."

"And the drone?"

"You were letting her walk away, it was a last resort." He looked down at the controller. "Although, I probably should've practiced more with it. Hatsume makes these things so complicated."

"Deku?" you called, looking a bit uncomfortable, standing alone with the deactivated drone.

"I-" he shook his head. "We'll talk about this later." He pointed to the controller. "And give that thing back to Hatsume."

Yagi nodded but grabbed Izuku's shoulder as he turned to leave. "I'm sorry for the trouble I caused, but you have a chance here my boy, don't squander it."

Izuku looked at Yagi's hand and nodded. "I- I know you mean well Toshi, but I'm grown up now." When Yagi's face fell with a defeated nod, the young hero waved his hands. "But I'm grateful you care so much. Thank you, I can handle it from here."

A small smile made its way onto his face. "I know you do my boy. Go get her."

With a nod, Izuku jogged back over to you, checking you over. Yagi watched the two of you for a moment before blending back into the trees. It seemed the two of you needed privacy.

"Well this has been a weird day," you said when Izuku came back. "Does this happen often for you?"

"This was definitely a first," he admitted. "I'm sorry about that."

"It's alright. You'd never let anything bad happen." you shrugged. "It'll make for an interesting story though. Um, why was All Might hiding in the bushes with a drone?"

"He has too much free time on his hands nowadays." The pro hero muttered, glancing back to the tree line. "Um, so about that ticket, it's actually for next week. I was just thinking, I have one too, so if, uh, if you were interested, we could go together."

"Well I sure can't waste this ticket, after all we went through for it," you grinned. "That sounds fun."

A huge wave of relief washed over him at your acceptance. "Great," he sighed with a smile. "You know, in case some other crazy defective device comes along, I can walk you to your car if you'd like?"

"Wow, a hero and a gentleman." you looped your arm through his. "I'd like that very much.”

It took all of Izuku's training and willpower to stay calm as you leaned into him, getting comfortable for the long walk back. Neither of you noticed a pair of dark blue eyes on you as you left the clearing, excitably holding onto the defective drone because despite the setbacks, his plan had actually worked.

Taglist: @dorki-time @peachsenpie @thecindy @miriobaby @awilddreamerwrites @kiyoobi @dragonsdreamoffire @amive2567 @justscar @kenmaskitten10

#izuku midoriya #all might #toshinori yagi #midoriya izuku x reader #pro hero deku #deku #izuku x reader #bnha #mha #request

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jeanslongschlong · 3 years

Photo

i got bored and wrote this at 3:30 in the morning...so...enjoy, i guess?

warnings: extremely nsfw content, graphic descriptions of sex, choking, overstimulation, degradation, dom!jean, mirror kink, breeding kink (if u squint)

word count: 3.4k

nsfw under the cut!

the sound of the rain tapping against your living room window was the only thing keeping you awake as you lay across your sectional couch, snuggling a blanket that had been closest to you. jean was working late again, which was becoming more and more common as the days went on. at first you hadn’t minded; you knew that he was a prized detective, and that the agency valued his work. plus, jean loved his job. he raved about it constantly; about his coworkers, the crazy people he encountered while conducting investigations, even about his ‘emotionless, ocd stricken’ boss that always scolded him for filling out his paperwork sloppily. and you loved to listen, loved to see that excited glint in his eyes when he got all worked up, the genuine happiness on his face as he reminisced over a recently solved case, and hearing the animation and liveliness in his voice. but you were starting to feel…rather forgotten. you knew it wasn’t jean’s fault, and you would never blame him for it. jean would never neglect you on purpose, you were his world and he never let you forget it. but with him working all day, then coming home so late at night…you saw him for thirty minutes a day, max. and that was if you were lucky enough to wake up right as he was about to leave for work and engage him in brief conversation. it was starting to weigh on you, and you didn’t know how much longer you could bare it.

you didn’t want to bring it up, though, the fact that it bothered you. you had thought about it multiple times, had even started to at one point, you just didn’t want him to think it was his fault. you also didn’t want to hold him back in his career…you would never forgive yourself, and – fuck…it was so complicated. you let out a huff, pulling the blanket you were holding closer to your chest and taking in a deep whiff of jean’s lingering scent that stuck to the blanket like glue. the scent comforted you, and you allowed yourself to close your eyes. you were exhausted. today had been one of the days that you had managed to catch jean on his way out the door, so you had easily been awake since 6 in the morning. it was now 2 am, and you were just barely clinging to consciousness. you had wanted to wait up until jean got home, but…your body needed sleep. craved it. so, you finally put your troubled thoughts to rest, telling yourself you’d fret over them later, and fell into the outstretched and waiting arms of dreamland.

it was nearing four in the morning when jean finally unlocked the door to your shared apartment and stepped inside, shouldering off his jacket and hanging it limply on the coatrack. he sighed, rubbing at his temples as he toed off his shoes and padded into the kitchen to set down his keys and get a glass of water. his head was pounding, and negative thoughts were swimming around competitively in his brain, fighting over which could hold his attention the longest. he had many things nagging at him that night: the unsolved case that lay practically untouched and collecting dust on his desk, the long lecture that his boss had given him as he was leaving the office about his performance being ‘unsatisfactory’ for someone of his rank, and most importantly, he missed you. he missed you so fucking badly that it was affecting his ability to focus, which in turn effected his work performance, hence the long ass lecture that deputy director levi had given him as he left only half an hour before. he knew that he probably should have listened to said lecture and probably taken advice, as well, but all he could think about as levi rambled on and on about his slow performance was getting home to you. seeing you. loving you. touching you. tasting you- he spilled water on his pants and cursed, scrambling to grab a towel to wipe up the mess.

unfortunately, he cursed rather loudly as the water had made contact with his slacks, and he had unintentionally roused you from your sleep. you made your way sleepily into the kitchen and yawned, stretching your arms up above your head and gaining jean’s attention. he frowned upon seeing your sleep tousled appearance, giving you a once over then moving to pull you into a hug. you nestled your face into his neck, closing your eyes and inhaling his scent.

“shit, i’m sorry, baby…were you asleep?” he murmured, gently carding his hands through your hair. you nodded, moving away a little so that you could see his face.

“’s fine, i had only been asleep for an hour or so, anyways…you okay? i heard you curse…you sounded really mad.” jean’s face reddened, and he looked down.

“i was going to get myself some water and accidentally spilled it on myself. it was a clumsy, stupid mistake, but it’s what i get for coming home at four in the morning.” you scoffed a little, training your eyes on the slowly disappearing stain on his pants.

“hard day at work? you seem tense.” you reached out a hand and ran it down the length of his left bicep, gently rubbing your thumb against his skin. he perked up a bit at your touch.

“nothing that i can’t handle. come on, y/n, let’s get you into bed. you look like you’re going to pass out any minute now.” he moved to guide you into your shared bedroom, but you planted your heels into the ground and shook your head, shooting him an intense look. he paused, puzzled at your actions.

“i don’t want to sleep. i never get to see you, this may be the only chance i get to talk to you until next fucking week.” your words came out harsher than you intended them to, and jean inhaled sharply upon hearing them.

“i know…fuck, i’m sorry, y/n. i know that i work too much, i really need to stop, but-“

“i know. the case is important.”

“and levi-“

“is up your ass about it, i know. you’ve told me.” jean lets out a defeated sigh and moved to the kitchen table, pulling out a chair and plopping into it. he put his head in his hands and grasped at his hair harshly. you moved to sit next to him and waited for him to speak.

“this job is really important. and if i solve this case, the bonus i’d get would be big enough to keep us comfortable for many years to come…i don’t want to jeopardize that, but also…our relationship…” he paused and looked up at you, taking in your appearance and analyzing your face. the corners of your lips looked like they were struggling not to turn downwards. he sighed. “how are you feeling?”

“…forgotten.” the words hung heavy in the air, and jean stayed silent, so, you continued. “i know it’s not what you intend to make me feel. you go to work with me in the back of your mind everyday, you come home to me and kiss my cheeks every time you get in bed next to me…i feel you do it. but…you’re never here…and it just…it makes me feel-“

“no. no, no, no. y/n…fuck. i’ll take less hours if you want me to…so that we can spend more time together. i’d probably have to work on the weekends sometimes, but-“

“no, that’s not what i want.” you stood from your chair, looking down at him in a way that he couldn’t describe. he ran another hand through his hair. were you about to break up with him? honestly, he wouldn’t blame you if you did.

“then what do you want? i-“ and then you were on him, like a lion pouncing on its prey, your lips claiming his roughly and passionately. your tongue slipped into his mouth, igniting a fiery dance that had him moaning and gasping for air. he reached up and grabbed onto your waist, pulling you on top of him so that you were straddling his lap. his hips involuntarily bucked up and ground against yours, causing moans to fall from both of your lips at the friction. soon enough you were dry humping each other like horny teenagers who had never been touched; his hands were gripping your hips so tightly that they were sure to leave finger-shaped bruises in their wake. not that you minded. you could feel that familiar coil wound tight in your core, threatening to unravel at any moment when he stopped his ministrations completely, causing a frustrated whine to slip from your mouth. he smirked at this, one of his fingers trailing from your belly button, up through the valley of your breasts and up the side of your neck, finally landing on your lips. you took it into your mouth with hesitation, greedily sucking on his digit and pulling a delicious moan from him.

“fuck, baby…look at you.” he pushed a second finger into your mouth and you were quick to start lapping at that one as well, swirling your tongue around the both of them as if it were his cock that were in your mouth. “you missed me so badly, didn’t you, slut? i can feel your wetness seeping through your shorts and getting onto my pants. so needy…” you started to move away from his hand so you could answer, but he shoved his fingers back into your throat and you almost gagged, but stopped yourself. “ah, ah, ah. talk tomorrow…tonight you are mine.” jean’s pupils were blown wide with lust as he watched a string of saliva drip down your chin and onto your chest, slowly running down the slope of one of your breasts.

jean removed his fingers from your mouth, leaving you to gasp for air, and carried you to your bedroom, tossing you not so gently onto the bed and descending on you almost as quickly as you had gotten settled. his lips hungrily reclaimed yours and his hands were desperately mapping every inch of your body, skimming over the soft curve of your hips and the smooth skin of your waist, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. he stopped to appreciate your breasts, grabbing and caressing the supple flesh before tweaking your nipples and causing you to arch into his touch and gasp into his mouth. in response to this, he growled hungrily and grabbed onto your throat and squeezed, progressively tightening his hold on you as time passed. his tongue moved effortlessly against yours, you just fit so perfectly against each other and it felt so agonizingly good. you were beginning to see stars from the pressure on your windpipes, and just as your vision began to get spotty he let go, gently rubbing at your now red skin in a sort of sadistic apology.

“god, you’re such a slut…took it so good. hold up your arms.” he demanded, and you complied, lifting your arms up above your head so he could pull your shirt off and throw it away from you, leaving it forgotten and in a heap on the floor. and then he was kissing you again, but your neck this time. his kisses were so passionate and rough that you were still gasping for breath, moaning every so often when he decided to take your skin in between his teeth and bite down, leaving a deep purple mark behind. his lips found his way down to the waistband of your pants, and he looked up to you to ask for permission. you nodded impatiently and lifted your hips so that he could pull the unwanted fabric away from you, leaving you bare and vulnerable in front of him. you were completely naked before him now, and he hungrily drank in the sight.

“fuck, you’re so fucking gorgeous…and all mine. now open your legs for me, baby…let me see how wet you are.” his voice was husky and deep, which shot a pang of warmth straight to your core. you complied to his request and slowly opened your legs. his eyes were hooded as if he were drunk on expensive wine as he took in the sight before him, and he braced his hands on your thighs, caressing the sensitive skin next to your center. it sent a shiver down your spine, and you whimpered at the contact. your eyes locked with his in a silent beg to touch you, to give you the orgasm he had denied you not that much earlier. jean gave you a smug smirk, then dove in between your thighs, his tongue assaulted your clit.

you let out a strangled cry at the sudden sensation of his tongue against the most sensitive parts of your body, and your hips jerked up in retaliation, but he held you down by placing one hand on your lower belly and another anchored your left thigh to the bed, keeping you spread before him as he greedily lapped at your fold. his name was falling off your tongue in pants now, and you felt yourself nearing your release. you thighs trembled as he continued his vicious assault with his tongue. you weren’t going to last much longer, you could feel yourself tipping over the edge, you were starting to see white-

“holy FUCK, jean, oh my fucking god, yes.” he had shoved two fingers into you that were now curling up and hitting your sweet spot with every thrust. a prideful smile was ever so present on jean’s lips.

“yeah? you like that baby? come on, cum for me…yes, that’s it…good girl…” you bucked your hips up to meet every thrust of his fingers as you rode out your orgasm. his tongue was still attached to your clit the entire time, causing you to violently shudder at the overstimulation. jean waited a few moments before removing his fingers from your heat and licking them clean, making eye contact with you all the while.

“so sweet…” he mused, moving to kiss you on the lips. he grabbed your chin and gently prodded your mouth open, then spit into it before forcing your mouth shut again. you swallowed and moaned at the absolute lewdness of the action itself. you could taste yourself on your tongue…it was surprisingly hot. “you like the taste, baby? make sure to swallow every drop…”

“yes…fuck.” your head lolled back as you reached down to palm his erection through his trousers, pulling a delicious groan from his mouth. his head fell back at the sensation of finally being touched, but only allowed you to touch him briefly before backing away and impatiently undoing his belt and pants and undressing himself. soon you found yourselves face to face with each other, his member lined up with your entrance. he leaned down to capture your mouth with his once more before pushing into you. you both moaned at the feeling of him filling you up to the fucking brim, the tip of his cock kissed your cervix barely as he finally bottomed out inside of you. jean loosed a shuddering breath and looked down at you to meet your eyes.

“fuck, i love you.” and you were kissing again, his hips starting to rapidly piston in and out of you, causing the headboard of your bed to slap against the wall violently. you couldn’t find it in you to care. the feeling of him filling you then pulling all the way out just to fill you to the brim over and over again was bringing tears to your eyes, and the added pressure of his hand squeezing at your throat was making you see stars. soon enough you were coming undone once more, moaning loudly and arching your back off of the bed as your walls squeezed around jean’s cock, causing him to hiss out a string of curses. you were gripping at his shoulders to get him to give you a minute to come down from your high, but he just kept fucking you through your orgasm, his eyes trained on the delicious image of him thrusting in and out of you and reveling in the lewd sounds your bodies were making. you whined and scratched at his back to get him to give you a breather, which normally would have spurred him on to go faster, but this time he pulled out of you completely and sat up on the edge of the bed, pulling you into his lap.

“jean…what’re you doing? you didn’t get to-“

“oh no, baby, we’re not done yet…” jean bucked his hips up a bit and his cock rubbed against your entrance. the friction pulled a moan from both of your lips and your head fell back on his shoulder from the exhaustion that both of your orgasms had brought you. jean reached up and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look ahead into the full-length mirror you had in your room. your face flushed at the image before you and jean laughed seductively, tightening his grip on your jaw and slipping his ring and middle fingers into your mouth.

“look at you…such a slut for me…think you can take my cock one more time?” you nodded aggressively and squirmed a bit in his lap, desperately trying to get him back inside of you. “patience…patience, baby. so greedy…” he chuckled and gently lifted your hips before sinking you down onto him in one fell swoop. he wasted no time in allowing you to adjust and started fucking up into you at a relentless pace, causing you to scream out and dig your nails into his arms.

“look at you taking my cock so well…look how much your body is enjoying being used like a toy…fuck, you’re so fucking gorgeous bouncing on my cock like that.” your head threatened to loll back again at the intensity of his thrusts and he forcibly turned your head to face the mirror again, your eyes locking in the reflection. “if you look away, i stop. watch it. watch me fuck your tight little cunt until you can’t take it anymore.” you whined at this and trained your eyes on the mirror, keeping eye contact with him for a lot of it. but you knew you weren’t going to last, and he knew it too; he could feel your walls constricting around him and his cock twitching in return, threating to spill inside of you at any moment. the sight alone was more erotic than you had ever thought it would be, and it was turning you on more than you thought possible. you let out a particularly loud moan, and jean knew you were tipping over the edge for the third time.

“that’s it, baby, cum for me.” so you did. “good girl…good girl…cum all over my cock. ah, ah, ah…keep your eyes as the mirror. i want you to watch as i fill you to the brim with my cum. i want you to watch it leak out of you as i pull out of you. keep your eyes on me.” you almost came again at his words but he didn’t give you the chance; he came inside of you after one last particularly bruising thrust up into you, his hips stuttering a bit as he came down from his release.

the two of you sat there for a few moments to catch your breath. jean ran his hands up and down your arms to soothe you, then slowly pulled out of you. cum dripped out of you and onto the comforter beneath you. you let out another moan at the sight and jean chuckled, reaching around your bodies to gather the cum that had leaked out of you on one of his fingers, then pushed it back inside of you. you spasmed a bit at this, it was too much.

“jean, i can’t, it’s too much-“ he kissed your temple and pulled his finger back out of you, laughing softly.

“i know, baby…but you don’t want any of it to go to waste, do you?”

yeah…you two regularly incorporated mirrors into your sex life after that…

#aot oneshots #aot x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein smut #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk

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helpistolethesecharacters · 3 years

Text

Stealth Mission Part 2

A/N I finished the request, queued it up ready, and then was hit with inspiration. Since the other one is already 1611 words, I thought I would just make a part 2.

Also,

Y/n - Your name

Y/n/n - Your nickname

Bucky Barnes x Male Reader

Word Count: 1636

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

Y/n was going out of his mind. He had woken up in the medical bay after their last mission, totally confused. It had been a long time since he had been so seriously injured on a mission.

He went back through his memories looking for clues. He knew he had been on a mission with his team, but something had gone wrong. They had been found out and then it got hazy. The only thing he remembered with absolute clarity was getting stabbed in the side.

Y/n felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. He must have been captured. But if that was true, why would they have healed him. Surely they wouldn't have bothered if they didn't have to. If they had needed to heal him, maybe they needed something from him. He must have been right when he thought earlier that they wanted information. You can't get information out of a dead man after all.

Y/n swallowed heavily. If he had been captured, and he couldn't get himself out then that would be the only way to stop them from getting what they wanted from him.

'Better to save that for when it becomes necessary.'

He glanced around to get his bearings and his eyes landed on the medical gear attached to him. That would have to go, but then someone would be alerted to his escape by the monitors changing.

Y/n felt his heart speed up in anticipation. He swore loudly as he realized that his escape was probably already compromised. He had been laying here awake for a few minutes and he knew that your vitals change when you are awake.

He ripped the IV out and pulled all the other unnamed wires and cords away from the machines. That might buy him a few minutes.

He bolted up and to the door, but just as he reached out for the handle he heard a loud click. He tried it anyway.

Yep, locked.

He spun on his heel and took in the room he was in. There, a window. His captors must be pretty sure he wouldn't wake up if they were stupid enough to put him into a room with a window big enough to escape through.

"Woah, slow your roll there Y/n/n."

The voice made Y/n spin around, but there was no-one there. He felt disoriented. The world was starting to spin again. He stumbled back from the window, he hadn't even realized he had made his way over to it, when had that happened?

When Y/n looked back up someone was in the room with him.

He stumbled back a step in surprise and cried out when he realized he had moved into someone else.

The walls were closing in now and he knew he had missed his chance to escape unnoticed.

-----------

Bucky was mad. He had been assured that there was no way that Y/n would wake up just because he had left his room for long enough to grab a quick shower and a bite to eat. He hadn't even eaten the food, planning to bring it back to the room that Y/n was still unconscious in.

He was on his way back to the room when the alarms began to go off in the tower. It didn't take long for the voice of Stark's latest AI to start talking to him.

"Mr Barnes, might I suggest you make your way back to Y/n's room? He is awake and seemingly unaware of his situation."

Bucky didn't bother responding, just dropped his food where he had been standing and sprinted for his boyfriends temporary room.

He reefed the door open and stepped in just in time to see his boyfriend spin toward him. He looked past Y/n to see Clint in the room already, standing near Y/n's bed.

Bucky stepped forward to help, but this apparently was too much for Y/n, and he swayed dangerously before loosing consciousness once again.

Bucky barely managed to catch his boyfriend before he hit the floor.

He carefully lifted Y/n up onto his bed and tucked him on once again. Then he turned to Clint for answers.

He was very aware that he was more Winter Soldier that Bucky Barnes at that moment, but he couldn't bring himself to care. The most important person in his life was once again laying unconscious on a bed in the medical bay, and it was Clint who was supposed to be watching him.

Clint swallowed obviously and held his hands up in surrender.

"I swear man, I didn't do anything. He woke up and I don't think he could hear or even see me. I was sitting there the whole time and it was like he didn't even register it."

Bucky glared frostily at him, jaw clenching tightly.

He took in a deep breath, then another. He couldn't bring himself to start yelling in your room, but he damn well wanted to.

"Maybe you should go get someone from medical to fix that." He ordered pointing at the broken machines.

Clint was out of Y/n's room before he had finished speaking.

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

The next time Y/n woke up there was a familiar face leaning from near by before he even had his eyes open properly.

"Hey"

Words were a thing right? It felt like words should be a thing that he knew how to use.

The familiar person handed him a glass of water and held on as he sipped it.

It didn't take long for Y/n's head to clear enough to recognize his boyfriends face.

He sighed and leaned back against his pillows, feeling like he had slept for the last century and like it still wasn't enough.

"Hey, just take it easy. You weren't really all here the last few times you've woken up. Just take your time."

"Ugh, what century is it?"

Bucky's low rumble of a laugh rolled over Y/n and he felt something relax inside. He knew he would be alright now that he was back with Bucky.

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

Y/n was going out of his mind. He had been on bed rest for the last week after he was well enough to leave the medical bay, and Bucky had taken that to mean that he needed waiting on hand and foot. Every time he tried to move at all, he got an attentive look from his adoring boyfriend.

"Do you need something? Should I get you something to eat?"

It was very sweet, and Y/n had been soaking up all the love that his big fluffy boyfriend had to offer, but it was starting to get old.

He was now at the stage where his body needed to start moving more, so that he could start working through the stiffness and build himself back up to where he had been before.

Unfortunately, Bucky didn't agree with him. Y/n was sure that he had been enjoying spending so much time with him and do things for him, but he was done now.

"Bucky, Doctor Cho agrees with me. It's time to start moving around more myself, or I'm going to lose these muscles that you seem so fond of. Besides, I need to start working through the weakness that stabbing caused. It's a liability out there, you know that."

That got him those dang puppy dog eyes that were the absolute worst. He must have learned them from somewhere, but for the life of him Y/n couldn't picture any of their friends ever making a face like that.

He shut his eyes and faced the ceiling instead.

"That isn't going to work this time. I've given you a full extra day, but now I need to start doing these things for myself again."

Better to keep it to himself that at some point he was going to have to go back to sparring with the others and all kinds of more dangerous things than simply getting his own food. They both already knew, but rubbing it in Bucky's face was probably not the smartest move in trying to win this argument.

Y/n was met with silence. He just knew that if he opened his eyes his boyfriend was going to be right in front of him, eyes bigger than ever.

He held out for a full two minutes more before peeking an eye open.

He was right. Bucky was standing right in front of him, but he wasn't pulling puppy dog eyes at him anymore. He had the softest smile on his face as he took in Y/n's antics.

Y/n opened both eyes fully and looked his boyfriend full in the face. Was he okay?

He went to ask him a question, but was met with a soft kiss. It was just a light brush of lips, but it caught Y/n by surprise. He melted into Bucky as he pulled him into his arms.

"I'm sorry, I know. This job that we do is dangerous, but it's something that neither of us would give up. It's a part of us, individually, but also together. I just worry. If something happened to you and I never got to see you again, I just hate that thought."

Y/n snuggled closer.

"I love you, you know that? I wouldn't choose to leave you if I had the choice."

Bucky was silent for a second and Y/n hoped he had read that right. It was the first time either of them had said anything like that, but what Bucky had said had sounded like a confession of love as much as the words themselves would have been.

Y/n looked up and was met with the biggest smile he had ever seen on Bucky's face.

"I love you too."

Neither of them were able to stop smiling enough to kiss properly, but that didn't stop them.

#Bucky Barnes x male reader #bucky barnes x male reader #male reader #bucky barnes #Stealth Mission #Part 2

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navalcriminalimagines · 3 years

Text

Taken & Found - 1

Request 1: Hey there! I'd really like to see a comforting Gibbs after the reader was kidnapped?

Request 2: Could ya do something with the reader being kidnapped and tortured in captivity for a long time and after she was rescued and came back Gibbs tries to get her to talk about what happened to her so he can figure out how to help/comfort her?

Request 3: May I request something with Gibbs and scared reader? Maybe they’re like trapped somewhere or she’s going under for a surgery? You can decide reader’s fate!

This is a two-part fic. This part is basically full angst, focused on Gibbs and the comforting, healing focus on Reader will come in the second part. I wanted to separate both.

Pairing: Gibbs x Reader

TW: angst, kidnapping, mention of suicide, depression, slight alcoholism

Words count: 3k

Tags: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @madamsnape921 @specialagentastra @ncisfan @zetasaturno99

She was supposed to be thirty-five years old today.

And it was one of those very rare days Gibbs didn’t want to get out of bed.

He spent the night working on his boat in the basement, thinking about what his life would be if anything had happened. But he would never know, would he? No matter how bad he wished Shannon and Kelly weren’t dead, how bad he wished you were here with him… all of this happened. And he found himself alone in his basement.

Well, not entirely alone. He had a bottle of bourbon to keep him company, and Fraser, an old black labrador. Your old black lab. Your furry baby, as you used to say.

You rescued it when it was just a puppy, a couple of years before you joined NCIS. So, Gibbs has always known you with this loving thing. At some point, you would even take him to the office and Fraser’s favorite spot was under Gibbs’s desk.

Gibbs never wanted to get attached to the dog. Fraser wasn’t his, it was yours and he respected that. But somehow, you both made your way to his heart.

But only Fraser was still here.

Taking a sip of bourbon directly out of the bottle, his eyes landed on your pet, curled up in the armchair Gibbs put here years ago after you made a remark. “You know, you should put something down here. An armchair or something for people who visit.” You said, while caressing the wood with your fingertips. God did he wish he was the boat at this very moment.

“People who visit never stick around.” He answered, sternly.

“I stick around,” you grinned.

Indeed, you did stick around. A lot. Probably too much.

Would’ve saved him the heartbreak if you didn’t.

A week later, an armchair was down his basement.

With the bottle still in his hand, Gibbs sat next to Fraser and started to toy the blankie. Well, technically, it was not a blankie. It was a tee-shirt. One of yours. The one you left at his house, two years ago.

The top, representing one of your favorite bands, was destroyed now. Fraser chewed it, curled against it nonstop for two years, it was now just some cotton with dog’s hair on it. It didn’t have your smell anymore, it had Fraser’s, but Gibbs never had the strength to take it away from the dog to wash it.

He never had the strength to do much after you disappeared.

When it was clear to the team that you had been taken, kidnapped, abducted or whatever, Gibbs searched for you for weeks, probably mouths. He still does, to be honest, just not 24/7 anymore.

The first weeks, he asked - or actually, ordered - Abby to take care of Fraser. Gibbs was spending all of his time away, looking for you, he couldn’t take care of someone - well, a living thing. The lab tech happily obliged, but Fraser’s health quickly deteriorated. The dog wasn’t eating, or drinking. All he did was lay on the floor, waiting for his mum to come back.

“What, Abby? I don’t—“ not a welcoming way to answer the phone but she didn’t hold it against him.

“I know you’re busy, Gibbs, but I’m taking Fraser to the vet. He’s not okay at all.”

Abby heard her boss taking a deep breath. “Which vet? I’ll be here as soon as I can.”

The dog was clearly letting himself die. Without you, he didn’t see the point of living and Gibbs understood that. If he told anyone what he did after he got Fraser from the vet, they would think he was crazy. Maybe he was, but he didn’t care at this point. He didn’t care about anything, anymore.

Fraser was depressed and there was nothing the vet could do about it. So, they let Gibbs take him home.

And he took him home. His real home; your apartment. Fraser immediately lay on your bed and cried. “You’re reading my mind, Fra.” Gibbs muttered to himself, while preparing a bowl for the pet.

Gibbs had been in your room a few times, but he never paid attention to your stuff. All his attention was on you and your body when it happened. But as he was sitting on the floor, his back against your bed, he allowed himself to take a look around. It was very much you. Minimalist with your touch. He saw your guitar, your messy wardrobe, candles and some Polaroid pictures of people you love. Gibbs never paid attention to those pictures until this moment and one grabbed his attention.

A picture of him. You could see him from afar, aiming to throw a ball. He remembered that night but he never knew you took a picture.

Ziva had invited him to throw a few balls on a baseball field. It was a nice summer night and they had just saved many people from getting blown up. It was also the first night you kissed him. In his basement, you teased him like you always did and ended up with your lips on his. He wasn’t ready for it at that moment, and when he realised what had happened, you were already gone.

Gibbs held the picture in his hand and before sitting back exactly where he was, he went to the kitchen, grabbed what he had prepared and came back.

Fraser was still laying on your bed, his face on your pillow. Gibbs carried him in his arms, the labrador didn’t even fight back or anything. He put him in front of the bowl and Gibbs sat across. “You wanna die, Fra, huh?” The dog looked at him with horrifying sadness in his eyes. “You and me both, buddy. So let’s do this.”

Gibbs put the picture next to the bowl and grabbed his gun and the bottle of whiskey. “I know you know that salmon. Eat it, choke, and when you take your last breath, I’ll pull the trigger.” He said, pressing the gun against his temple.

Fraser is deadly allergic to salmon. When he was a few months old, you fed him some and the reaction was almost instantaneous. Luckily, you took him to the vet right on time for them to save him. “Salmon is banned from the house.” you said on the ride home.

The dog didn’t move one bit. With his face still resting on the floor, he kept looking at the man. Gibbs swore he saw tears in the damn dog’s eyes. “So? Whatcha waiting for? Eat it. It’s good salmon, trust me.” He said, drinking the brown liquor.

If Fraser could talk, he would’ve told him; ‘I may let myself die, but you’re damn crazy.’ Which would’ve been fair.

Gibbs was going crazy. It was the last straw. The last punch in the guts he could take. He had reached his limit.

He was finally letting himself love again and get loved in return. And someone took that away from him. All over again.

He got it, the universe hates him for some reasons. Why would he keep pushing it then?

Gibbs stayed up all night, drinking and waiting for Fraser to eat the fish and die. So he could pull the trigger and end this once and for all.

But Fra never did. Instead, around 5am, the dog went to grab something from the bathroom and put it on Gibbs’ lap. It was one of his hoodies. A hoodie you stole from him. Gibbs buried his nose in it and he could smell you. For the first time in many years, he let himself cry. He cried like a fucking baby, under the watch of your fucking dog.

At some point, he felt that Fraser was trying to nudge his nose in the hoodie too. “We’ll find her, Fra. We have to.”

If Gibbs had killed himself, along with Fraser, it would’ve meant you were gone forever. Because eventually, people would’ve stopped looking for you. They would’ve stopped thinking about you and just pretended you’re dead.

But Gibbs knew you weren’t dead. He knew it deep inside him. Because if you were dead, Fraser would’ve eaten the salmon and he would’ve pulled the trigger.

Laying in his bed, Gibbs turned on his side and found himself face to face with Fraser. The dog was sleeping and snoring. That’s what he does most of his time. Fra was still depressed, but he didn’t let himself die anymore. He eats and drinks the bare minimum. He doesn’t play anymore though. He used to be a happy, playful and loving dog. Now he’s just laying around, waiting for you to come back.

Just like Gibbs.

They both lost weight. Gibbs didn’t even bother to look at himself in the mirror anymore. He hadn’t been to the hairdresser in a while. His hair was longer than it has never been, and his beard was prominent now. You would probably freak out if you saw him like this. You would order him to shave and get his marine haircut back. You would feed him - and Fraser - until they are full. He just wished you were here.

He reached for Fraser’s head and pet him for a moment. “The boat is done and I can’t even offer it to her.” He sadly whispered. It’s been his plan a long time before you were gone. Building a boat after and for you. Now it was your thirty-fifth birthday, the boat was fucking done but he coudn’t teach you how to operate it like he promised.

For the next two weeks, Gibbs would stay in the basement, and stare at the finished product. There was nothing left to do on it, so he just sat behind the wheel, files on his lap and bourdon in one hand. His use of alcohol has never been higher than it is now. You’d scold him if you knew.

Maybe he’s self-destructing, hoping you’d show up and make everything right again. It was stupid, since you didn’t leave on your own. You were taken. Someone took you, and god knows what they were doing to you. This awoke a rage he never knew he had. He’d kill that - or those - person with his bare hands if he ever has a chance.

A month after your birthday, Gibbs was basically falling asleep in his boat, relatively drunk. Fraser was on his lap - he doesn’t realise he’s not a puppy anymore - when the dog shot his head up. “Easy, that’s just Fornell.” Gibbs mumbled, recognizing his friend’s footsteps.

“My two favorite depressed boys.” Tobias greeted them. He gently patted Fraser’s head and looked at his friend. “I need you to sober up, Gibbs. We need to talk about something important.”

“Just say whatever you have to say. I’m not that drunk.”

“Yeah, right.” Tobias grabbed the bottle from Gibbs’s hand and checked how empty it was. But Tobias knew only one thing would make him react, so he went straight to the point. “It’s about Y/N, Gibbs. Get your ass—“

Before the FBI agent could finish his sentence, Gibbs had practically thrown Fraser away. The poor dog looked at him with hurt in his eyes. It was only then that Gibbs saw the file his friend was holding against his chest. He didn’t think twice and tore it out of his grip. Tobias let him.

There wasn’t much in the file, just a picture.

A picture of you.

You looked different, thinner, your hair was shorter and in a completely different color. You looked like a homeless woman.

Gibbs’s jaw dropped. His head was spinning so fast, he needed to sit again. He touched the picture with his fingertips so softly, hoping it was like touching you. A lot of things were going through his mind at this moment, he actually drew a blank. “It was taken two days ago. In Wyoming.”

Gibbs didn’t need more.

Tobias had everything planned before he showed up at Gibbs’s place. One of the FBI private planes was waiting for them, in order to take them off to Wyoming. He had asked Emily if she could dogsit Fraser for a few days, and he even called Vance to let him know he was taking Gibbs with him.

In the plane, he told Gibbs how he came across this picture and all of the info he had, which wasn’t much to be honest. As far as they knew, you were in one city of Wyoming two days ago. Maybe you were gone by now.

But all Gibbs could focus on was that picture. He didn’t take his eyes off it since he opened the file. This was you. You were alive. Whatever happened, whatever the reasons you found yourself here, you were fucking alive.

Tobias looked at his friend. He’ll spend the rest of his life pretending he didn’t see the tear rolling down his cheek. “How you feeling?” He tentatively asked.

“I—I don’t know. It’s a lot.”

“She’s alive. We know it. We’ll find her.”

“I’ve always known she was alive.”

No doubt he did.

It was hard for Tobias to tame Gibbs after they landed. The agent was already barking orders at everybody and anybody, he was ready to organize a fucking manhunt to find you. But the first place they went was where the picture was taken. Gibbs spent hours in the area, while Tobias went to see the local cops. When he tried to check on Gibbs, the man never answered.

In the picture, you were looking at the surveillance camera. You knew you were being watched. You did it on purpose, Gibbs was sure of it. You must have left a clue somewhere around.

You looked scared, someone must have been following you. But he knew from what Tobias said; there wasn’t much more on the video. You were briefly seen and then disappeared, again. “Talk to me, Y/N.” Gibbs thought to himself while looking around.

It was only around noon that it hit him. He finally saw it.

Right there on the graffiti wall.

“Born to lose, live to win.”

Your handwriting. This sentence. Your tattoo.

You must have written this to let him know he should look at this wall. So he did. He studied those graffitis for a long moment, until he saw what he needed to see.

Numbers. GPS coordinates.

He called McGee, not paying attention to the missed calls he had. He gave him the coordinates and Tim gave him an address.

Was that it? The nightmare was finally over? He would go to this address, find you and take you home. Finally.

Fucking finally.

He felt dizzy while running to the address. It wasn’t that far away, and there was no way he’d wait for Fornell or a cab. So, he jogged to this fucking house. When he was standing in front of it, his heart was beating so fast, he thought it would stop.

But he couldn’t die now. He would die after he found you but not now.

He didn’t care about procedures or anything. He grabbed his gun, and let himself in the house by knocking out the door. A man was sitting there, on the couch.

The house was pure filth. The man seemed to be a bit younger than him, and he looked like a psychopath. Which he is, considering he took you.

The man was standing in his living room, his hands up as Gibbs pointed the gun at him. In a flash, Gibbs was standing right in front of the man, the gun pressed against his throat. The man looked scared, he didn’t even try to fight. “What the hell, man? Who are you? What do—“

“Shut your mouth. Where is she?” Gibbs asked, suppressing the urge to beat the man to death right now. That would come later. He needed to find you first.

“Who? There’s no—“

Gibbs’s knee hit him right in his crotch and that bastard fell on the floor. “You’re living the final hour of your life, you better tell me where the hell is Y/N, before I watch life leaving your fucking eyes.”

“I—I—“

Seeing his hesitation, Gibbs punched him. “Where?!” He yelled, but the man stayed silent. “Fine.”

Gibbs grabbed the guy by his collar to put him back up. He was physically impressive, but the adrenaline running through Gibbs’s veins gave him incredible strength. He threw him on the first chair he saw and immediately cuffed him to it. He punched him once more, harder this time.

His nose and lips were bloody, but of course it wasn’t enough. Gibbs fought a lot in his life. To defend himself or to arrest someone, but never, had he been filled with that much rage and anger. He didn’t think twice before his boot hit the man directly in his face, knocking him unconscious. He stared as the man fell on the floor along with the chair he was cuffed to.

He needed to find you. Right now.

No need to be a federal agent to know a psychopath would hold you captive somewhere private.

So he immediately looked for a basement, which he quickly found and he saw the door.

A reinforced door with quite a few locks. Keys. He needed keys that he found in the man’s pocket. Although he was still laying on the floor, fighting to regain consciousness, Gibbs kicked him again, in the stomach this time. He wasn’t holding back his strength one bit. He will kill him anyway.

As he was unlocking the door, his hands were shaking like they never did before. His heart was still pounding in his chest. He still felt dizzy.

He was sure his heart actually stopped when he spotted you on the one-person bed. You were holding your knees against your chest. It was dark, but it was you. You were there, a few feet in front of him. He didn’t even know what to do.

But you did.

When you realised who was standing in front of you, you weakly jumped off the bed and rushed into his arms.

The only thing that kept you alive all this time; knowing that he would find you.

You felt even smaller than you already were. With your arms wrapped around his waist, your face buried in his chest, Gibbs felt you crying.

He slowly wrapped his arms around you, afraid it wasn’t real. Afraid he may hurt you. Afraid you would disappear again. “You found me.” he heard you whispering.

That he did.

#jethro gibbs imagine #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs x reader #agent gibbs #jethro gibbs #gibbs x reader #gibbs #ncis fiction #ncis fanfic #ncis fanfiction #ncis

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the-scandalorian · 3 years

Text

Tempered Glass: Chapter 6

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: M (will become explicit) Word Count: 4k Warnings: slow burn, sad feels/angst, canon-typical violence, cursing, sexy thoughts, pining Summary: When Fennec Shand reveals your true identity to the Mandalorian, you do your best to pick up the pieces. Notes: I’m sorry this took me so long!! I rewrote it like six times because I couldn’t get it to feel right. Next chapter should be much faster. Taglist: @bbdoyouloveme @beskarhearts @dincrypt @dunderr @honey-hi @just-me-and-my-obsessions00 @mbpokemonrulez @oloreaa @red-leaders @speakerforthedead0 @spideysimpossiblegirl @theflightytemptressadventure @ubri812 @zoemariefit

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Image from The Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian

Fuck. Panic coursed through your veins and paralyzed you. Your brain moved infuriatingly slowly as you tried to think of a way to stop the disaster that was unfolding before your eyes.

And yet...despite your fear and despite the fact that this terrifying, high-level bounty hunter had once tracked you, hearing Fennec call you sweetheart made your stomach drop—in a pleasant way, not at all like when Toro had done the same. She was beautiful, strong, mysterious, intimidating. What little you saw of her fighting style confirmed that she was lithe and exacting—catlike in her grace and prowess. A sexy armored bounty hunter.

I have a type.

You shunted that wildly unhelpful train of thought out of your head to refocus on the crisis at hand.

You looked at Mando. “I—”

“What’s she talking about?” he prompted. You couldn’t tell if you were projecting because you felt guilty or if he really did sound a little hurt.

You opened your mouth again to respond, but Fennec beat you to it.

“Oh, you don’t know?” Even in the dark, you could see Fennec’s eyes sparkle in delight as she addressed Mando. “I don’t know how this one stayed off your radar,” she explained. “She was wanted by the Empire for years. Huge bounty... She looks a little different now—check her chest for a scar to make sure, but I’d bet her bounty it’s there.”

Mando had already seen the scar. He knew Fennec was right.

You caught the hungry look on Toro’s face as he drank in everything Fennec was saying. His eyes trailed down your face and landed shamelessly on your chest. You could practically hear the wheels turning in his head as he tried to think up a way to confirm your identity and claim the reward for both you and Fennec. This little fucker.

Fennec looked at you, and you took a step back involuntarily. “You’ve gotten sloppy, baby. There’s been chatter for weeks that you resurfaced on Nevarro. If I hadn’t been pinned down here, I’d have come for you myself.”

Her words felt like ice sliding down your throat and settling in your stomach. You’d figured that news of your sighting would probably get out, but you had hoped against hope that the blue-haired bounty hunter had been taken out before she’d been able to spread the word.

Mando was silent, fists clenched tightly at his sides, visor glued on Fennec. Pulling yourself together, you grabbed his arm and dragged him a safe distance away.

“I was going to tell you. I’m sorry,” you blurted, once you were out of earshot.

“It’s fine,” he replied stiffly, his gaze trained decidedly to your right.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you registered that even though it was just the two of you, his voice retained its icy, detached quality, all the tender familiarity gone.

“No, it’s not. I should have told you sooner. I-I wanted to—believe me—but I didn’t know if I could trust you. You were—you’ve been worried that I might turn you or the kid in, haven’t you? I was worried that you’d do the same to me if you found out. The longer I spent with you, the more I felt like you wouldn’t, but I had to be completely, totally sure. I couldn’t take the risk. You can understand that, right?”

He said nothing.

“Look—I really want to be able to trust you. I want you to be able to trust me. I just didn’t know where to start. It’s not easy for people like us to trust blindly, you know?” You hated that your voice sounded almost pleading.

Still, he said nothing, a blank beskar wall. The comfortable warmth that had developed—slowly, painstakingly—between you two over the past weeks had dissolved in an instant.

“Mando. Talk to me, please.” You reached out for his arm, but he stepped back. He still wouldn’t meet your gaze.

“Not now. Not here.”

“But—”

Your heart sank when he turned abruptly and walked back to the others.

You watched as he grabbed Fennec’s arm roughly, hauling her to her feet, and you trailed behind as he lead your party back down to the foot of the cliff. When you reached the bottom, Mando threw Fennec to the ground.

“Uh oh, looks like two of us have to walk,” Fennec taunted, eyeing the lone bike.

Mando jerked his head, motioning you and Toro to follow him.

“Alright, so what is the plan?” Toro asked Mando.

Reluctantly, you refrained from asking him if he could contribute for once instead of letting Mando do literally all the work; instead, you turned to Mando and supplied, “That dewback isn’t far.”

Mando didn’t look at you. To Toro, he said, “I need you to go find it.”

“And leave you here with my bounty and my ride?” Toro asked incredulously. “Yeah, I don’t think so, Mando. I’ll only go if she comes with me, so I have a guarantee that you won’t leave.” Toro gestured toward you.

You and Mando spoke at the same time: “No.”

“Either she comes, or I don’t go.” Toro was obviously pleased with himself for thinking of this plan, a smirk painted on his face.

You shot him a scathing look before turning to Mando to offer, “I’ll go get it alone.”

You’d love to put some distance between you and Toro, between you and Fennec, and honestly even between you and Mando at the moment.

“Suit yourself,” shrugged Toro. “Less work for me.”

You ignored Toro. “I remember vaguely where it was.” You pointed.

Mando pressed a button on the side of his helmet and scanned the horizon, stopping vaguely where you’d pointed. Finally, he trained his visor on you. He looked from you to Toro to where Fennec was seated and to you again, deliberating. You could tell he didn’t want you to go alone, but he also didn’t want to leave you here with Toro and Fennec. “We’ll go together.”

You nodded, knowing you were in no position to complain. Now that your secret was out, it was evident that both Toro and Fennec would capitalize on your value at the first chance. And, even now, when your dishonesty had been revealed to him, Mando still felt compelled to protect you, his generous heart winning out over whatever malice he felt toward you.

A small part of you resented him for that; it didn’t rub you the right way that he didn’t think you could take care of yourself. A larger part of you knew it was exactly why you liked him so much.

It would be convenient if he were a selfish ass. You could convince yourself you didn’t owe him anything, that you’d done nothing wrong. But no.

This is why it’s easier to be alone.

You felt both angry and guilty, an awful combination that manifested in the urge to hit something—a deep yearning to break Toro’s nose flashed through your mind when you caught the smug expression on his face as he looked from you to Mando. He was enjoying the palpable tension that had materialized between you a little too much.

“Watch her,” Mando reminded Toro, gesturing to Fennec. “And don’t let her get near the bike. She’s no good to us dead.”

Without a look or a word to you, he turned and started toward the dewback.

***

You walked in awkward silence, knowing you’d have to be the one to break it, but you delayed the inevitable, admiring the array of stars spread out above you. Mando stomped up and down the swells of sand, staying several paces ahead.

You meandered your way through a storm conflicting emotions: anger at yourself for getting into this situation (rightful), anger at Mando for being infuriatingly honorable (misplaced), guilt that you’d hurt Mando (well-founded), fear about your safety (appropriate), fear that Mando was about to break your heart a little bit (honest), irritation that you were trekking through a damn desert and there was an aggressive amount of sand in your boots (fair but trivial)... and a myriad of others that were too nuanced to unpack.

After deliberating for a long time, you decided to take an offensive position and offer to leave preemptively to save Mando the trouble (and to save yourself from having to hear that from him). You steeled yourself with a deep breath and interrupted the oppressive quietude of the night, jogging for a moment to catch up with him.

“We can go our separate ways when we get back to Mos Eisley. I know I’m too much of a liability to keep around, especially with the kid.”

He turned his head to look at you, the night sky reflected in his visor.

“I have enough credits to get off world some other way.”

“If that’s what you want.”

It killed you a little just how much it wasn’t what you wanted. You were supposed to be totally independent—you’d chosen this life when you joined the Rebel Alliance, knowing that if by some miracle you managed to survive, you’d be hunted for years. The call for your blood wouldn’t—and didn’t—end with the Battle of Endor, especially when Imperial remnants remained strong. And years ago, condemning yourself to this life for a just cause had seemed brave and romantic. Now, here you were, desperate to build a connection with someone else, despite the risk. And you were starting to think that truly being brave would mean accepting that risk.

At what point is it worth giving up ease for happiness, for something more?

You gathered up what nerve you could muster and took a leap.

“It’s not what I want, but I know you feel betrayed. I really am sorry I didn’t tell you—I was planning to, but I was scared. Scared that you’d take advantage of that... scared that you’d take back your offer to stick together. And the longer I waited, the harder it got to come clean.”

“I understand.”

The frostiness of his voice had given way to something a shade softer, but it still hadn’t returned to its former warmth.

You nodded.

As it became clear that he wasn’t going to say anything else, the disappointment started to settle in, trickling into the hollow of your chest. He understood, but it evidently didn’t change the fact that the fragile trust that had evolved between you was shattered.

Well, fuck.

You suppressed the wave of emotions that threatened to overtake you, focusing instead on making a new plan for yourself. There would be time to work through the feelings later, alone. Your thoughts wandered to where you might go next, running through a mental list of options. Nothing sounded appealing.

None of the places that came to mind would be stocked with a shiny, withholding Mandalorian and an ancient green toddler.

You walked for another twenty minutes before Mando spoke again.

“I want to trust you too.”

You stopped. “What?”

He halted too, turning to face you. The dark sky painted his beskar deep shades of liquid indigo, speckled with pinpricks of starlight, that moved as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “I wish you... uh... had felt safe enough to tell me that, but I understand why you didn’t.”

You knitted your eyebrows together. “Wait. You’re not mad?”

“I haven’t given you any reason to be open with me. And I guessed you were running from something.”

“Oh.”

“The Empire part caught me off guard—but I knew there was something.”

Of course he’d figured it out...that seemed so obvious now. He’d be able to spot that from a mile away. Plus, he knew you. You spent the last month or so learning his tells and quirks, but you hadn’t stopped to think that he was doing the same with you.

He continued: “But the kid and I are also wanted by the Empire. We’d have the same problem even if you weren’t here.”

“True...” You were struggling to recover from the whiplash.

“What are you wanted for?”

“I was an Intelligence Officer in the Alliance.” It had been years since you’d shared this information with anyone, but the words fell from your lips as naturally as if you said them every day, like you’d been ready to tell him all along and your mouth had finally caught up with your heart.

“Yeah, that makes more sense,” he said. “Explains a lot of your skills.”

You scoffed. “Fair.”

Mando cleared his throat and hooked his thumbs in his belt. “But... it’s...uh, nice to not always be alone.” He punctuated the end of his sentence with a shrug, a little embarrassed.

Relief washed over you.

You smiled. “For me too.”

“Good,” he agreed, nodding decisively.

“Shit, you really let me think you were furious,” you laughed, feeling infinitely lighter but still trying to wrap your mind around this abrupt turn.

“Sorry,” he apologized, “I was... trying to figure some things out.”

You shook your head in exasperation and started walking again, but you froze when he said your real name. You’d known your name would sound good in his voice—everything did—but the way it rumbled and rasped through the modulator was borderline sinful, agonizingly personal.

File that away for later.

You looked back at him, and he cocked his head: “So you’ll stay?”

“Yeah, I’ll stay,” you agreed, a broad grin on your face.

You both started walking again, and suddenly, trudging through the sandy desert in the middle of the night didn’t seem so bad. The dewback came back into view as you crested another sand dune.

Mando looked over at you. “Din,” he offered. “My name is Din.”

You glanced up at him, surprised. “Din,” you repeated back to him, feeling it out.

Despite the contradictory definition of the word, it suited him. He was the opposite of a cacophony, a man of few words—though to be fair, he did often cause a commotion. But as a name... Din was short, to the point. It evoked a lot of feeling for just three letters, and that felt right.

“I know your real name now. I thought it was only fair that you know mine too, but only use it when it’s just me and you and the kid,” he explained.

Your throat was unexpectedly tight.

You reached over to squeeze his arm at the elbow, where there was a gap in the beskar. He didn’t pull away.

“Thanks,” you answered, looking up into his visor.

You hoped he understood that you were thanking him for more than just his name—for his understanding, for his trust, for his protection, for his vulnerability. You couldn’t say that all out loud at the moment, but you hoped he knew.

He dipped his helmet in acknowledgement, and you dropped your hand.

When you finally reached the dewback, Din approached slowly, speaking to it in a calm, lilting voice. It warmed to him slowly, and he grabbed the reins.

He hauled himself up onto its back and then extended a hand down to you. You took it, and he pulled you up easily to sit behind him. You wrapped your arms around his middle.

“Is this okay?” You weren’t really sure why you asked this time. Things had shifted between the two of you, so you were compelled to check that the casual contact was still welcome.

He cleared his throat: “Yeah, fine,” he confirmed.

It had been a long time since you’d been physically affectionate with anyone, besides the occasional casual, short-lived tryst. It was nice to wrap your arms around someone familiar and comfortable, someone who knew you.

The dewback started forward. Din directed it back toward the cliffs with the reins in his fist. It wasn’t a huge distance, but the dewback was a slow means of transportation.

You had little idea what all this meant for your daily reality with Din. You had both shared that you wanted companionship, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was interested in anything more than that. However, for you at least, this was undeniably no longer a superficial interest that you harbored; you had real affection for him. And it seemed like he maybe was starting to feel same way about you? Or maybe he was just getting comfortable with having companionship? The man was starved for human interaction, so it was hard to know if he was warming up to you or warming up to companionship in general.

One step at a time.

Time slipped by as the dewback lumbered on. You rested your cheek against the scratchy fabric of his cape and closed your eyes. The rhythmic movement, the darkness, and comfort of the position lulled you into a light sleep.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been asleep when Din woke you, squeezing your now limp arm that was resting on his thigh above his beskar plate.

“Alive back there?” he asked in a low voice.

Leaned against him, still groggy with sleep, you felt the question rumble through his chest.

You sat up straight, pulling your arms back to your sides. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

He chuckled. “It’s fine. We’re close.”

The two suns had risen, bathing the landscape in the golden glow of early morning. You looked around and saw that you were a short distance from where you’d left Toro and Fennec. You couldn’t see them yet, but you figured they were hidden behind one of the many large boulders strewn across the landscape.

As you drew nearer, though, you could tell something was wrong. Only one figure came into view—and it was crumpled on the ground. Din registered this as well: his shoulders stiffened, and he pulled the reins tight to halt the dewback’s slow advance.

It was Fennec’s body on the ground. Toro was nowhere to be seen.

“Fuck,” you breathed.

“You were right about him,” said Din. “Stay here.”

Din dismounted and approached Fennec’s body. She looked dead, but he crouched to check. He tried to find a pulse, and after a moment, he stood back up and shook his head.

As Din walked back toward you, the realization dawned on you both at the same time.

“He didn’t—”

“The kid—”

“She must have—”

“We have to—”

Din hurried back onto the dewback and directed it toward Mos Eisley, doing his best to make the lumbering creature pick up its pace. It didn’t help much.

The ride back was interminable. You definitely didn’t fall asleep this time, adrenaline keeping you on edge as the hours passed. Both you and Din were incredibly tense, speaking very little, thinking only of the child.

***

Night had fallen again by the time you reached Mos Eisley. The speeder bike that Toro had been riding was parked outside Peli’s. Fury and fear spidered through your veins at the thought of him with the kid.

Din jumped off the side of the dewback and looked up at you expectantly, his arms outstretched. You maneuvered your leg over the side and slid down a bit until his hands gripped your hips, and he lowered you until your feet hit the sand. You could have easily jumped down on your own. He knew that. You knew that. You’d let him help you anyways.

You paused outside the bay to draw your blasters.

“Here,” Din offered you the flash charge.

You slipped it into your jacket sleeve, where it stayed tight against your wrist. Together, you crept through the door and down the stairway that opened up to where the Razor Crest was parked. It was eerily quiet.

You scanned the space, jumping slightly when one of Peli’s pit droids scurried past.

“Took you guys long enough.”

Toro walked slowly down the open ramp of the Crest, the barrel of the blaster in his hand pressed to Peli’s back. The child was held in his other arm.

“Looks like I’m calling the shots now. Huh?” he sneered.

The urge to hit him flared up so acutely that you clenched your fists. You hissed at him: “Don’t you da—”

“Drop your blasters and raise ‘em,” he ordered, cutting you off.

You and Din exchanged a look before throwing your blasters to the ground. In a subtle movement, you shifted the charge from your sleeve to your fist as you placed your hands behind your head.

“Cuff ‘em,” commanded Toro, nudging Peli forward and throwing two sets of cuffs to the ground.

She moved toward Din.

“No, start with her,” Toro drawled, jutting his chin toward you. “To think I almost cut Mando out of this deal,” he laughed. “I would have gotten you and Fennec, but this is so much better. I get to collect the bounty on you and this target here that Mando helped escape,” he pointed his gun at the baby and all your muscles tensed in protective rage, “...and I get to turn in the legendary Mandalorian himself—a Guild traitor.”

Peli walked behind you. You grasped the charge in your fist so that she would be able to see the top of it. You heard her quiet, sharp intake of breath.

“Fennec was right,” Toro continued smugly. “Bringing you three in won’t just make me a member of the Guild—it’ll make me legendary. Three high-value targets on my first try. Wow, I should really thank you guys.”

Peli was fumbling with the cuffs behind you, taking longer than necessary on purpose.

You hoped she was ready to duck because you’d heard enough of Toro’s self-congratulatory monologue. You released the charge.

In the split second of blinding light, you, Din, and Peli sprinted in opposite directions, taking cover. Toro groaned and attempted to cover his eyes, shooting blindly at the empty space where you had been standing.

Din took Toro out in one shot.

You were closest to where he fell, so you charged forward with your blaster trained on his body. The baby wiggled out of Toro’s arms and ran toward you. His big eyes were watery and his arms stretched toward you, his fingers making little grabby motions. He chittered nervously as you scooped him up with your free arm, and he buried his head in your shoulder.

You kicked Toro’s blaster away from his body as Din approached to make sure he was dead. After he checked his pulse, Din tugged the pouch of credits from Toro’s belt and tossed it to Peli. “Here,” he said.

With a gasp, she caught it and emptied the pouch in her hands. Credits tumbled out, a few falling to the ground.

“That cover us?” Din asked.

Peli looked shocked, scrambling to pick them all up. “Yeah... uh, yes. This is gonna cover you.” It was clearly far more than she was expecting.

You passed the child over to Din, and he looked down at the baby, tilting his helmet in...what? Affection? Relief? This was a head tilt you hadn’t defined yet.

Peli approached him and looked down at the child. “You take care of him, you hear?”

Din nodded.

“Thank you for watching him,” you said to Peli, genuinely grateful that she had turned out to be trustworthy.

“Besides getting held at gunpoint... I guess it wasn’t too bad,” she replied, smiling down at the baby. She’d clearly grown fond of him, and you couldn’t blame her. After a moment, Peli mumbled a goodbye and walked away, eagerly counting the credits in her hands, her pit droids skittering after her.

You stood there, finger caught between three tiny green ones, as the kid babbled and cooed up at you. When you looked up, Din’s helmet was trained on your face.

He tipped his head toward the open ramp of the Crest in a wordless invitation.

You smiled at him, a comforting warmth settling in your chest, and he followed you into the hull.

***

Chapter 7

#tempered glass #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #my writing #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian x female reader #din djarin x f!reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #reader insert #mandalorian reader insert #din djarin reader insert

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