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harry-writings · 3 years

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My Birthday Girl

Another Drive Me Wild blurb for all my emotionless!h lovers out there! I hope you enjoy!! <3 I truly did not know how to end this but oh well, she’s cute anyways :’)

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Chocolate covered strawberries.

They’re Y/n’s favorite — the snack she always asks him to make for her on special occasions, and even on her lowest days does he find her craving the sweet treat, an unbelievably easy way to her heart.

So here he is, dipping fresh strawberries in melted chocolate on the morning of her birthday. Their flat is silent as Y/n sleeps in their bedroom, Harry borderline exhausted as he is now on his third hour of being awake, his second cup of coffee already brewing beside him.

But his excitement is stronger than his lack of sleep as he runs through the day in his head, a small smile toying on his lips for everything he has planned for her. After their morning spent in bed, he arranged a picnic for them to go on at their local park — the basket already prepared and filled with cheese and crackers, wine and grapes — tickets for an immersive art exhibit she’d been begging for him to take her to, and a reservation to Y/n’s favorite Italian restaurant later tonight.

He wanted to make her birthday something she’d never forget, simply because this is the first birthday they’ll be spending together and he doesn’t want to screw it up. But also because last night, Y/n had told him that she had spent her last four birthdays alone, and something about that small confession was enough for him to nearly tear his own heart out.

It’s been eating him up all morning — thinking about how sad she must have felt on the days she was supposed to be her happiest. Surely, he’s been through that feeling practically his entire life… but something about Y/n spending her birthdays alone physically pains him to think about.

His stomach twists and churns whenever his thoughts wander off to Y/n sitting at her favorite restaurant, celebrating at a table for one with a glass of wine and a cup of ice cream, with nobody for her to talk to. And for him to fathom the idea of her going home to an empty house and an even emptier bed, ending her night without receiving a single happy birthday text, as if it were no different than any other day, makes his chest cave into a pit of guilt for not being the one there with her.

He knows it’s not his fault, but there’s nobody else to blame and he’d much rather take the fall than for her to ever blame herself (which she already does — another confession that had also slipped out to him last night). He frowns a bit at the remembrance.

And the emotional turmoil his body undergoes thinking about her past makes him ache being so far away from her now. So he finishes the last couple of strawberries in a haste, swaps the batch he made earlier with the new batch out from the refrigerator, and plates the chocolate covered strawberries on a floral serving tray.

With one last look around the kitchen, he makes his way into their bedroom.

He smiles softly as he enters, Y/n snuggled with the covers under her chin, soft snores falling with each breath she takes, as beautiful as ever in her dream state.

He places the tray of chocolate covered strawberries quietly against the nightstand, careful not to wake her just yet, before sitting down on the bed beside her legs. He reaches his hand out to pet through her hair, watching as her nose scrunches and eyes blink open beneath his touch.

He leans down to kiss her, his lips resting gently on her forehead as he continues to run his fingers through her hair, growing a hint of a smile when she huffs and puffs to her morning wake.

He removes his lips from her skin, sitting himself back up to admire the view. It never fails to amaze him just how stunning she truly is. No matter the time of day or the mood she’s in, no matter how done up or how done down, she always manages to take his breath away and make him fall more in love.

She pouts tiredly at him, her eyes blinking as they adjust to the light. And he pouts back at her, his fingers rubbing at the edge of her jawline back and forth softly. “I’m so sorry, pretty, but I missed you.”

She softens a little at his words, her cheeks turning pink beneath his touch. “I missed you, too.”

He smiles a bit as he continues petting her, the silence between them affectionate and comfortable. And she pushes herself deeper into his touch, in absolute bliss.

“Happy birthday, my love.”

She hums, in awe at just how perfect he is. His chest is on display for her to see, his tattoos prominent against his skin and begging for attention. And his face… so soft, so sweet, so precious… she wants it all to herself, all day long.

“Why do you look so good right now?” She frowns, her oozing with lust as they soak him in. It feels as if she’s seeing him for the first time all over again.

“Shaved for you.” He leans down to kiss at her lips once, twice, three times before he sits up again, his expression blank but his eyes full of love. “For later.”

She whines, her hands gripping his arm and pulling him back down to her, the sight of him no longer enough as her watering mouth finds its home against his cheek. “How about for now?”

She’s being greedy and she knows it, but who could ever blame her? It’s her birthday and her only wish is for him to fill all of her senses, to hold her close until she’s in a world that belongs to just the two of them, to touch every single part of him.

Her lips are persistent against him, her fingers in his hair as she kisses and kisses and kisses the soft and smooth skin. And Harry indulges himself in her affections, enjoying it all too well even though it should be him drowning her with love.

“But I made you breakfast.” He tries, his walls crumbling as his voice wavers between his words because of course he’d rather be doing this, but today is about spoiling her rotten, not the other way around.

“How could I possibly want breakfast when you’re right here, shirtless and all clean shaven?” Her teeth graze at his jaw, as if taking a bite of him, growling at his taste. “So scrumptious right in front of me.”

His breath falters and weakens at her touch, the breath of her words sending a chill down his spine he can’t seem to shake off. And curse her for being so irresistible and knowing exactly what he likes, he never fails to give into her in a heartbeat. “But I made your favorite.”

“So that’s a no to morning birthday sex?” She raises her eyebrow at him, pulling away from him and stilling her movements.

“Absolutely not.” He argues plainly, gently pushing her back onto the mattress, his blank and nearly cold expression making her chest jump from within her. She loves how much he loves her beneath it all.

He strokes her cheek with the back of his finger, his lips linear and eyes darkening with endearment, admiring every inch of her face. And she can recognize that look anywhere — he’s going to make a mess out of her.

He reaches over to the night stand, grabbing one of the chocolate covered strawberries and dangling it over her mouth. “Just one bite for me.”

She opens her mouth for a taste, pushing herself up on her elbows to reach, craning her neck. But right before she could sneak a bite, Harry pulls it away from her, making her head tilt in confusion as he looks at her with hesitation.

Rather, he opens his own mouth, his teeth lodging into the stem end of the berry, ready for her to take. And he leans back down, Y/n’s eyes glistening at the idea as she meets him halfway. Her teeth sink into the hardened chocolate and through the juicy fruit, her lips meshing with his along the way. And they both let out a moan at the feel and taste of it, never having done anything quite like this before.

Harry leans back with the fruit stuck between his teeth, eyes fixating on her for just a moment longer before he turns his head and spits the stem onto the ground. And if Y/n wasn’t so infatuated by the filthy sight of it, she’d grimace at the thought of the juice leaving a stain on their perfectly clean hardwood floor… but how could she ever care when he’s about to make his mark on her?

She licks her lips up at him, slowly and seductively, humming at the sweetness.

His eyes darken at the angel splayed in front of him, ready to be touched and ruined by him. And something about the way she wanted this, craved this, starved for this — over the chocolate covered strawberries he had made with love, delivered to her side, ready to be devoured — even when she has it every day, makes him want this so much more… as if it were even possible.

“You just lay back and look pretty.” He instructs, his hand running down the length of her shirt (that’s technically his, but she wears it nearly every single night for bed and it always drives him wild whenever she does) and onto the plush of her thigh.

She squirms into his touch.

“And I will give you everything you ask for, m’birthday girl.”

Harry’s got his hands over Y/n’s eyes, carefully guiding her toward the kitchen — where he had dedicated his entire morning to make everything look perfect for her — as she giggles and squeals and tries to guess what he could have possibly surprised her with.

He laughs with every other step they take, biting teasingly at her shoulders whenever she makes more guesses, already feeling somewhat accomplished that he’s found a way to make her this happy.

He stops them at the entrance of the kitchen, where he kisses the back of her head. “Okay. Are you ready, baby?”

She nods excitedly, clapping her hands in anticipation. He counts to three, taking a deep breath in before releasing his hands from her eyes and settling them around her waist.

Her jaw drops at the sight of it.

Dozens of baby pink balloons floating around the kitchen, the table full of gifts in pastel colored bags, white streamers hanging from the walls, bouquets of flowers scattered throughout the mix. And never has Y/n seen something so thoughtful or so full of love, she can hardly believe that it’s all for her.

She never knew things like this existed.

“You did all this? For me?”

Harry kisses her head from behind, tightening his arms around her front and squeezing her to him, resting his chin against her shoulder.

His heart sinks whenever she doubts his intentions, always unsettled at the thought of her insecurities fooling her to believe she doesn’t deserve to be loved like this. Because she does and she always will, every day for the rest of her life, and he intends to remind her of that every day for the rest of his.

“Wouldn’t do it for anyone else.”

He gives her one last squeeze before releasing her, allowing her to roam free and look at everything he had to offer. And she seems tentative and wary at first, but with one soft and gentle push from Harry, she makes her way over to what he had laid out for her.

Her eyes dance between the gifts and the decorations, slightly overwhelmed at how much there is… she doesn’t know what to look at first. Everything is just so perfect — beyond anything she could ever imagine and better than anything she’s ever dreamed of.

But something in particular catches her eye — there, set on the middle of the table, are two glasses of mimosas with a note laid before them, reading ‘Cheers to you, my love, for being alive with me.’

Her stomach dances, heart falling at the words he wrote out for her. They’re so simple, yet quite possibly the most beautiful thing she has ever been told. She’ll be sure to smother him with kisses for it later.

She diverts her attention to the gifts, her fingers dance along the pastel bags, ruffling the tissue paper, gleaming at how much thought and time he must have put into everything. Because they are always together — at home, at work, on their days off — and yet he still found a way to make this day as special as he possibly could for her, leaving countless of surprises along the way.

“You spoiled me.”

He leans himself against the counter, his eyes never leaving her. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?” He pauses, then, trying to find the right words. “I know I’m not always the most expressive when it comes to our relationship, so I like to make up for it whenever I can.”

Her lips fall into a pout, watching as her fingers fiddle around the corner of a tissue paper, her heart dropping at the insecurity laced within his words.

It breaks her in two whenever Harry doubts himself, always saddened at the thought of him never feeling good enough in their relationship despite everything he’s done for her. Because he goes above and beyond every single day, in ways she never even knew was possible, and it aches to feel all the weight he burdens himself with.

“H... that’s never something you have to worry about. You’re very expressive towards me.” Her hand falls to her thigh in defeat, her frown sinking deeper. “It kind of breaks my heart that you don’t see that.”

“No.” Harry says instantly, shaking his head as he makes his way towards her, his hands resting at her shoulders to bring her attention back towards him. “No broken hearts today. Just forget I said anything, okay? And instead...” He grabs a particularly small bag up from the sea of gifts, holding it out to her with hopeful and anxious eyes. “Open this.”

She looks up at him, her cheeks flushed and lips twitching into a smile. She grabs it from him slowly, a small and quiet thank you falling from her lips, suddenly shy under his watch.

Her hands shake as they remove the tissue paper from the bag, her eyes curious when they spot a black velvet box laid delicately inside. She reaches for it, placing the gift bag back on the table before looking back up to Harry, trying to read his expression.

She opens the velvet box and feels a certain tug on her heart she’s never once felt before, stuttering at the meaning of it.

“You got us matching rings?”

He nods, rolling his lips between his teeth. It’s his nervous habit — the subtlest form of one but the only external sign he’s in a situation he’s unsure about. But she can’t imagine how he could ever be unsure of something like this… it’s one of the most romantic things he’s ever done for her.

“Look on the inside of them.”

She takes her ring out of the box, gleaming at the silver band for a moment longer before flipping it to its inside, and she gasps again. Engraved with the most perfect cursive writing, read the words forever and always.

“I know how much you love my rings. You’ve made this really cute habit of fiddling with them before bed to help you fall asleep, and — and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but… I stopped wearing any on my left ring finger once you and I had gotten together.”

She did notice, of course, but she didn’t want to make any assumptions. Especially since she first noticed the morning after their first night together. She was in a trance as she watched his hands work each ring onto his fingers, one by one, precise and confident and effortless. He wasn’t even looking and that’s what made it so much more mesmerizing to her.

But it wasn’t until he reached his left ring finger that he hesitated, his fingertips skimming the skin there, as if in contemplation. And her eyebrows furrowed, even deeper when he proceeded to the next finger as if nothing peculiar had happened at all, the question on the tip of her tongue but swallowed down in seconds.

He hasn’t worn one there ever since.

“I know it’s stupid but, my rings mean a lot to me, you know? They all have their place and their reasons and it just — it felt wrong once you stayed the night because I’ve always had intentions on spending my life with you, I just didn’t think it would ever happen.”

Her eyes water as he speaks, feeling more loved and cherished than she ever has before. And there’s this sense of peace that washes over her knowing that he’s always seen himself with her, even before they had gotten together, because that’s all she had ever seen since the moment she laid eyes on him.

“I just don’t like that it’s so empty when my heart isn’t, so I figured this would be perfect for us.”

Y/n sniffles, holding back a sob as she nods her head. “Yeah, it’s perfect.”

He smiles, his fingers gripping hers before taking the ring from her hand, holding it out to her. And he slips it onto her left ring finger, admiring the way it looks on her and drooling at the idea of them sharing something so sacred and promising together.

He kisses it.

And Y/n doesn’t hesitate to then take his ring out of the box, her stomach fluttering at the intimacy of it all as she slips the silver band on the only empty finger he has. It’s so real — the feeling of it all, seeing a token of his devotion to her out for the whole world to see.

“I love it so much, H.” She whispers, intertwining their hands together. “This is just… so much. All of this and you… it’s all so much. I love you so much.”

He pulls her to him, her lips so close to his he has no choice but to lay a kiss to them. But what was supposed to be slow and delicate ended as a mini makeout session — much like the ones they had in the break room at work, hidden behind closed doors, before they were much of anything besides two people absolutely desperate for each other.

“This is all I wanted.” Y/n whispers between their kisses, referring to the man she’s holding and loving and praising between her arms. “I got everything I wanted.”

Forever and always.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles preferences

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weebswrites · 4 years

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The Demon Bros: Waking up from their first sex dream about you

Lucifer

• His alarm goes off and he jolts upright in bed, thoughts and images from his dream racing through his mind

• He realizes that he’s very hard, and his face is covered in a deep blush

• He sorts out his little (big) problem, and goes to breakfast, desperately trying to get his mind off the dream

• He’s almost successful, until he opens the doors and sees you sitting alone at the table, wearing a tank top and shorts

• “M-Morning, MC” he stammers

• You look up, “Lucifer? Are you alright?” you ask, never having heard him stutter before

• “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired” he brushes off the question, and you can tell something is up, but don’t want to push him

• “Alright Luce, come sit. I’ll get you tea” you say, pulling back the chair that’s next to yours as you get up, walking over to the table to get him his favorite tea

• You accidentally bump into him, and his face blushes deep red

• “Lucifer, are you sure everything is okay? You know you can always talk to me”

• “Yeah, sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you”

• You can feel his eyes burning into your back as you make his tea

• You walk it to him and set it down in front of him, his eyes staying locked on you the entire time

• “Lucifer…” you start, but he cuts you off by pressing his lips to yours

• You’re surprised, but definitely not upset about this, and once the surprise wears off you grip the back of his hair with your fingers

• The two of you get pretty carried away, you’re straddling his hips when Asmo opens the door and gasps

• “Finally!! Congrats, MC!! You finally put the moves on Lucifer, huh”

• You blush, and Lucifer smirks at you, “Oh? So you’ve wanted to do this for a while then?”

• “Oh damn, did Lucifer make the first move? I wasn’t expecting that!” Asmo giggles, “But either way I’m glad you two are finally clearing the sexual tension

• You clear the sexual tension all right, for the rest of the day and into the night oops

Mammon

• It’s the middle of the day when he’s suddenly hit with the memory of his dream

• He’s hanging out with you in his room, you’re doing homework and trying to get mammon to study for a test he has

• He goes silent, and you look over to see a hand over his mouth, like he’s in shock

• “Mammon?”

• “It’s nothing…don’t worry about it human”

• You punch his arm playfully, but he jerks away

• Your heart stings, and it’s clear on your face

• “MC, shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that…”

• “Mammon…what was that?”

• He doesn’t want to be honest, but he knows you’ll get the truth out of him one way or another

• So, he tells you

• You blush, like a lot

• He gets a bit rambly at the end, talking about how he hopes this doesn’t change your friendship and that he doesn’t want you to be upset with him

• Only one way to reassure him that you aren’t…

• A kiss!

• He’s !! at first, but then relaxes into the kiss

• “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while now, Mammon. This was the perfect excuse”

• He get’s all cute and blushy

• “Awh, you have a crush on the Great Mammon!” he teases

• “Shut up~” you blush, and lean in and kiss him again

• You feel like you could kiss him for hours and not get tired of it, so that’s exactly what you do

Leviathan

• He wakes up covered in sweat, breathing heavily

• It’s 3 in the morning, so he knows you won’t be awake

• Wait, you’re his best friend! He can’t have a sex dream about his best friend!

• That’s when he hears his phone vibrate, and it’s none other than you

• Within a few minutes you’re knocking on his door, wearing the hoodie he leant you no less

• “Levi…I had a nightmare…can we cuddle” you whisper, usually not this forward but it was 3 am and you just wanted to be in your crush’s arms

• He nods, and the two of you walk to his bed

• You notice he’s a bit, well, hard, and don’t know whether or not to mention it

• But it’s 3 am and you’re hit with a wave of horniness, so when he spoons you you push your ass against him

• You feel him tense up, but the quiet moan that escapes his lips is validation enough for you to slowly begin grinding against him

• His hand holds your hip as you grind against him, both of you breathing heavily

• You turn to face him, the two of you locking eyes and silently agreeing that you were going to take your friendship to the next level

• You climb on top of him and resume grinding against him, bringing your lips together in sloppy, hungry kisses

• You have sex, and fall asleep in each other’s arms

• The next morning you’re both 😳, but you confess to having liked him for a while and by the time you’re at breakfast the two of you are officially dating

Satan

• He fell asleep in his chair reading again, but notices the blanket draped over him, bookmark carefully placed in his book that was not placed on the table beside him

• He quickly places that you were reading with him, and blushes at your kindness

• His blush then deepens when he’s hit with the memory of his dream

• Clips of you kissing, grinding against him, him thrusting deep into you in every position he could imagine flying through his mind, and he realizes that he’s very hard because of it

• He turns to look at his bed, and is surprised to find you in it, sitting by the window and reading late into the night

• You notice him stir, and turn to look at him. You’re dressed in just one of his tee shirts and your underwear. “Hey there sleepyhead” you tease, “Want to come lay down?”

• He nods, but realizes he can’t get up without you seeing his ~issue~

• “Satan?”

• “Mmmm…I’m gonna stay here for a minute” he says, and you think you know what’s going on

• You stand up, walking over to him and swaying your hips a bit more than usual, letting his shirt graze your thighs

• You watch as his eyes trail your body, smirking as your heart rate increases

• You stand at the front of the chair and lean over, resting your hands on the arms of his chair and putting your faces close together

• “Satan~ Why won’t you come sleep with me~” you tease, fully accepting that you were basically confessing to him

• He exhales with sexual frustration, and you lean even closer

• “Satan…” you whisper breathily against his lips, and before you know it his hands are holding your face and he’s kissing you deeply

• You spend the rest of the night making his dream come to life

Asmodeus

• He wakes up ~fashionably late~, and is in the middle of picking his outfit when he remembers

• He blushes a bit, but chuckles to himself

• “MC, MC…you’ve got me…huh” he admits to himself, and sends you a quick text asking you to come to his room

• You arrive within a few minutes, and can tell that he has something crazy he’s going to propose

• But you didn’t expect that he was going to confess a sex dream about you !

• It’s not like you hadn’t had them about him, but you didn’t think he’d had them about you

• “So, whaddya say? Care to make my dream come to life~”

• You blush and nod, “It’d be my pleasure~”

• You simultaneously bring your lips together and running your hands up and down each other’s bodies

• You walk to the bed together, falling back on it with him on top of you, rolling his hips perfectly against yours

• He starts kissing down your neck, and you shakily breathe out his name, begging him to keep going

• You go for quite a few rounds, him bringing you to as many climaxes as you bring him

Beelzebub

• He’s surprisingly calm about the whole thing

• That is, until he sees you in the kitchen, still in your pajamas and sleepily eating a bagel

• He quickly checks you out, which you act like you don’t notice

• You heart was warm at the sight of him coming in, and it beat fast when you saw him check you out

• You get up and walk to him at the fridge, slipping your body in front of his and pressing against him

• “Morning Beel” you say, exaggerating the tiredness in your voice because you knew he thought it was cute

• “Morning baby” he responds, not realizing the pet name until after it slipped out

• You smile, turning around to face him and reaching your arms up and wrapping your arms around his neck

• “I like the pet name, honey. You should keep using it”

• He blushes, but nods. He looks into your eyes, trying to read them

• You make it easier for him, “So Beel, does this mean I can call you mine”

• He’s a bit taken aback by how forward you’re being, but leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead

• “Please~”, his voice is soft but confident, and he feels like he’s been in love with you for as long as he can remember, even though he just realized it this morning

• You bring his face down and lightly kiss his lips, smiling against them

• “Good” you say, heart smiling with love for your boyfriend

Belphegor

• He’s woken up from a nap abruptly, eyes shooting open with realization over what just happened

• He can usually control his dreams, which is why he was so surprised by this one

• He knew his heart felt different around you, but he didn’t think anything of it

• Until now, that is

• And he jumps out of his skin when he hears you knock on his door, “Belphegor! We have class, let’s go! Lucifer’s getting pissed!”

• “Uhhhh fuck” he groans, “Gimme a minute”

• “One minute, and then I’m coming in” you warn him, not wanting either of you to face the wrath of Lucifer (and also because you loved how much his room smelled like him)

• You wait about 20 seconds before opening the door, and you freeze and blush when you catch him shirtless, only in boxers

• “Damn, my bad” you say, but don’t move

• You hold eye contact for a moment, neither of you saying anything before you take the move and trace your eyes down his body, stopping on his boxers and tracing the outline of his length, which you note is very hard

• You step in and close the door behind you, locking it

• “Belphie~” you tease, walking towards him as he backed up towards his bed, nervous about what your intentions were

• “You put a hand on his bicep, and squeeze lightly, “I can uh, help you, if you want” He takes a moment to think, but nods and presses his hips to yours

• You miss your first class of the day heh

#obey me #obey me headcanon #obey me x reader #obey me reader insert #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #lucifer x reader #mammon x mc #leviathan x mc #obey me satan x mc #satan x mc #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader

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onyxoverride · 3 years

Note

I wonder how Zeke would react to you being pregnant, would he be absolutely delighted or would just go IM FINNA WHIP DIS HOE 🏃🏃🏎🏎💨💨

Baby - Zeke Jaeger x Reader

warnings: pregnancy, pregnancy sickness, I don’t know the ins and outs of pregnancy but google is my friend- just know I’m unreliable. Angsty, fluffy, SMUT Minors DNI. Pubes? Oversenstivity, creampie. Zeke is sweet.

word count: 4k

note: OMGG HAHAH I can see this going a few ways tbh. also accidentally wrote a fic again :) hehe. It’s Zeke, I cant help it. this started informally so its like a drabble fic hybrid baby which is fitting hehe

He’ll either be like “Well I did say I’d stuff you with my babies so...” and he’ll accept his fate as a father. Will be unusually good especially if it’s a little girl because if he has a son he’ll afraid he’ll be like his father.

Or he’ll give you a look of horror, if you two were protected and this was completely unexpected he’ll be like “...I don’t know if I can do this...” He might run away, but again he doesn’t want to be like his father, eventually, he’ll come back, probably when you start showing because it’s then that he realizes that you’re pregnant with his kid, for real. Will get on his knees and apologize if needed. Give him a wake-up call, “I told you I was pregnant, and you left me alone. You left me alone for almost three months. I had no one and you left.”

You need to accept him a bit, for your sake and for your baby's sake, but that doesn’t mean you won't be mean to him a bit as revenge. Plus, he needs to earn your trust back.

You let him live in the guest bedroom, whatever routine and life you had before, it’s completely different now. It’s awkward. He’s missed so much, he’s missed the worse of your morning sickness and dizziness (which you still have occasionally just not as bad), and he’s missed getting you weird food combos, he’s missed you, he misses your warmth, he misses talking to you in slow cold mornings, he misses rubbing his beard on your neck and you complaining that it tickles, he should have never set a foot out the door, he knows that now.

“This is my baby. Not yours, not ours, not unless you prove yourself.” And boy does he. It doesn’t matter if it’s the dead of night and you want food, he’ll get it with sleepy eyes and pajama pants if he needs to. One day he’s venturing out of his bedroom to see your bathroom light on, and he’s going to check, of course he is, because he is worried. You’re leaning over the toilet with your eyes closed, head propped against the wall, a cold rag resting on your thigh to get your temperature down and try to keep you grounded as you throw up.

You can see how this looks like a bad situation to someone who hasn’t been there for months. Why do they even call it morning sickness when it doesn’t just stick to mornings. So when he slides next to you on the floor with a panicked look in his eyes asking ‘are you okay? is the baby okay? should we go to the hospital?’ it’s a bit irritating but it warms your heart nonetheless. Your head is pounding, you desperately want to sleep but every time you move it makes you a little more nauseous so you can’t even make it to the bed. His hand is on your thigh, it's warm but not uncomfortably warm like your body, and his calloused hands bring you back to reality. “It’s normal,” is the best explanation you can utter out right now.

He wants to ask what he can do to help, but your eyebrows are scrunched in pain and he doesn’t want to deepen that so he’ll at least try to help. He brings you a pillow to rest your hips on, even though you groan when you move you appreciate it because the tiles began digging into your skin, your pajama shorts do nothing to help you with that but the cold tiles feel nice to an extent. All of Zeke’s knowledge from college and how he took care of his hungover or sick friends is jumbled up because can any of those tips apply here? Whenever your stomach didn’t feel good you’d ask him to fix you peppermint tea and that seemed to help but will the smell bother you? This is the first time he’s felt true panic since- well since you told him you were pregnant, and when he came back to beg for forgiveness.

You’re still sitting beside the toilet, it’s much more comfortable now with the pillow, and Zeke brought you a fresh wet rag because the old one was starting to warm up to you. There’s shuffling from the kitchen that’s muffled by the walls and he comes back with an armful of things -- it’s almost comical. Your favorite water bottle refilled with bits of ice clinking around, a blue Gatorade bottle, a handful of plain crackers from the back of your cabinet that he must’ve scrambled to find. He runs back one more time to bring a warm mug- which he now realizes probably is the opposite of what you want because it’s warm and it seems like you want to be cold. He looks awkward as he sits on the other side of the toilet, leaning against the tub, like he’s being graded for his performance. He’s just close enough to reach you, just in case, hand caressing your ankle which is more to comfort him than you.

Now you look a little more relaxed. “Uhm...” he clears his throat as he speaks softly, “... I brought you tea, and crackers, water too. And cookies just in case. And Gatorade.” He looks younger now somehow, like when you and him met in college when he first asked you out on a date, nervous and scratching his ear.

This is the first time you have looked at him so softly since he came back. He does deserve the harshness, he thinks, but seeing the opposite after so long is almost gratifying. “Water sounds nice,” so he hands you the bottle quickly.

Sitting there almost another hour, you still don’t want to try to get up but Zeke stays and hands you everything you need. Pushes back any hair in the way when you lean to retch into the toilet. The times between each retch get longer, and after forcing yourself to eat a few crackers you feel like you have finally come down to earth, the rag and tiles too cold, the warmth of your bed filled with fluffy blankets tempt you.

“I think I’m okay now,” you aren’t, but just okay enough to go to bed and try to sleep. Zeke works you up to your feet, slow and steady, staying firm for you to lean on. You catch a glance at yourself in the mirror and it’s almost like a horror movie jumpscare. Red eyes, half-lidded and tired, eye bags more defined and lips chapped. The thought of toothpaste makes you want to throw up again but you have mouthwash that gentle so that’ll do, and the coconut lip balm you rely on has never bothered you. Zeke keeps at least one hand on your hips the whole time, you figure you do look like you are about to fall apart any moment.

He waddles you to your bed. It looks way different than when he saw it last. More pillows than before, lining the side closest to your bedroom door, his side. Or it was his side. There are more blankets too and a heating pad with a little remote dangling off the bed. He feels like he needs to retch now, guilt chasing up his spine. You’ve dealt with this alone, without him. How many times were you not able to get up off the floor because no one was there to help? The pillows that you lined his side with are taunting him, ‘we had to fill the void you left.’ But it’s just his own voice scolding him.

There are few things in life he is able to regret, but leaving you was one of the worst mistakes he could have ever made.

When you finally get comfortable, one leg thrown over the pillow and at least 3 fluffy blankets that he’s tucked over you, the temptation to ask to stay in your room scratches at the back of his head. He won’t ask, not tonight, not right now. He presses a closed-lip kiss to your shoulder that’s barely felt over the blankets. “Holler if you need me, okay?” He can see your breathing is steady and lets out a short laugh, you must have been exhausted. He’ll pour out the tea you didn’t drink, and make sure to get some more crackers on the grocery list.

/ / :

Slowly, he’s earning your trust. It’s been a month since he’s come back and now the atmosphere is more comfortable. Not romanticly domestic like he so desperately wants it to be again, but he can’t complain about progress.

He hasn’t been allowed to touch your belly, or even see it really because you are wearing the biggest clothes you can find. This is a rare moment where he gets to see you in tighter clothing because you feel too warm, and he gets to see your belly. It’s a cute bump, stretching out the tanktop you are wearing, he can see the dip/pop of your belly button through it, and you’ve refused to wear bras ever since your breasts started to feel too sensitive. Zeke didn’t expect to find this so... to put it in simple terms, hot.

Your nipples are poking through, breasts heavy, and the realization that he pumped you full with his kid and claimed you completely runs straight to his cock. He shouldn’t be this horny right now, especially when you are complaining about being too hot while laying on the couch with your feet propped up, shorts doing nothing to cover you, especially when he can see that you are not wearing underwear and slightly wet. Can you really blame him? You are hot, he loves you, and he’s been pent up ever since he came back and even before because his hand doesn’t cut it.

When he leans to give you a cup of ice water he knows you can see his hard-on through his pajama pants, it’s not like he’s trying to hide it. “Are you seriously horny right now?” You don’t really mean to say it like you are offended, you’re just surprised, and curious, because what the hell is going through his head right now? He’s a little startled because of your straightforwardness but he is nothing if not shameless when it comes to this type of scenario. How do you think you got pregnant in the first place?

“Yes, because a beautiful woman is laying right there with her legs propped up so I can see her cunt -- which is wet by the way -- and her tits, well, she might as well be shirtless and-” He takes his hand to run up your knee, “-she has my cute kid sitting in her belly right now. You are kind of irresistible you know?”

That’s really embarrassing, sure it felt airy but you didn’t know he could see. You can feel your cunt gush -- curse pregnancy horniness -- as you look up to him from where your head is resting against a pillow. You could risk it... You can satisfy yourself sure, the few toys you have resting under the bathroom sink but you know that the best experience, the most satisfying one, would be with Zeke. At least you tell yourself that's the reason, really you miss him, you miss him loving on you like you’re the only person in the universe and his warm touches, you miss him fucking you brainless. You don’t think he’ll leave again at this point, he’s too far in, going to doctor's appointments with you and living with you, and if he tried you might just break one of his legs. So why not? It’s not like he could get you pregnant again-

“If I’m so irresistible, why aren’t you doing anything?” You see him quirk a brow at you, knowing this will change the relationship he’s slowly been earning back. He just meant to embarrass you a bit, see you warm up with his lewd words but actually initiating something is the best outcome. So the hand that’s been lingering on your knee goes down to the juncture of your thigh, brushing up against the bump of your belly. It has you sucking in a breath, you are so sensitive, and he loves how responsive you are.

“As you wish.” He settles himself between your legs on the couch, they spread to accommodate him and he can see more of your cunt peaking out through the shorts. Unless he is mistaken, you have gotten wetter since he last saw it which is sending his blood rushing. Working off your shorts is easy, throwing them somewhere behind him, and he observes for a moment. He hasn’t seen you naked in a long time so he is soaking up every moment like it will be his last. You nudge your ankle to his side, “Don’t stare,” you say in an airy voice he hasn’t heard in a long time. There’s a patch of hair contouring your cunt, being dampened by your slick. You don’t care if he doesn’t like hair or not, you are pregnant and he should be thankful he’s even between your legs right now. Still, a nagging in the back of your head is making you a little self-conscious, but that is slowly being overridden by desire. He takes your offending ankle and rubs circles in it, it’s to keep you in place, a sense of dominance with a soft undertone. His other hand goes to take a few fingers to spread open your cunt, “I’m sorry, I like to stare at things that are beautiful, it’s how I was made.” That doesn’t even sound like an apology, too light-hearted and snaked with lust. Scolding him sounds like a good option but you can’t bring yourself to. You are just too sensitive, his hand isn’t even rubbing at your sweet spots but it still feels so good.

His stare on your nethers finally lets up, bringing both of his hands to trail up your belly, rubbing the bump of your growing baby. His baby, that he put in you. He bends over your belly to kiss it through your top, slowly riding it up so he can kiss the skin. It’s too soft, too comforting. You want to cry because this is what you have wanted this whole time since you found out you were pregnant. You wanted him to be sweet, fawn over you, and kiss your belly, and love your kid as much as he claimed to love you. There are so many things left unspoken, so many things to talk over that you both haven’t gotten to. You card fingers through his blonde hair, it’s just as soft as you last felt it, though you know he’s been using stupid low-quality shampoo because he can’t steal yours anymore. He looks up at you, giving you a much too sweet smile before settling his glasses on the coffee table.

He whips off his shirt to stay at least equal exposed as you, you’ve always complained about how it’s unfair. What’s really unfair, he thinks, is how hot you look laid out for him. The roughness of his hands contrasts the softness of your skin, the pudge of your thighs, the slowly appearing stretch marks on your belly, the softness of the edge of your breast he can feel teasing the edge of his hand as he adventures your body. Even your little moans are soft like silk running across his skin every time you breathe one out from his touches. Pulling your tank top over your breasts, he stares again. He really has missed a lot, your breasts look a little different, just a bit bigger, and your nipples swollen a bit with sensitivity, perked and begging for his attention.

So he caves, pressing his fingertips into the flesh of your breasts making you gasp because of the tenderness. The pads of his thumb circling around your areola before thumbing roughly over your nipple. They’re so cute, so responsive, Zeke loves it. He kisses your belly one more time and adjusts himself closer to you, pajama pants brushing against the swell of your ass, and leans so he can lap at your chest. His tongue feels almost prickly like a cat because of how sensitive you are, it hurts but it doesn’t hurt at the same as he tongues your nipple into his mouth and sucks hard, teeth teasing your nipple just a bit. It causes you to jolt and moan, digging your fingers into his hair as he continues to press kisses into your chest. You can feel his chest vibrate with a salacious giggle, his sadistic tendencies tend to slip out like this, and seeing you jolt and knowing your cunt must be absolutely drenched makes him all too prideful.

“Zeke, that’s enough-” He’s sucking the skin of your breasts hard so it'll leave bruises when he’s done. One of his hands presses gently into your belly, “Soon I won’t be able to do this as much. Let me have my fun.” All the implications send your blood rushing to your head as you throw it back into the pillow. He sucks a few more bruising hickeys to the underside of your breasts before pulling back, leaving a bite at your nipple.

He’s too needy to even work his pants off completely, doesn’t even bother with his socks. He was right, your cunt is drenched and leaking slick so much, sticking to the hair that's there, it’s almost running to your ass. “Fuck, you’re so fucking-” he can’t even find the words to describe you right now. Beautiful, divine, ethereal, are a few words that come close to describing you. So he just presses a kiss into your knee before settling his cock near your clenching hole.

“You’re okay with this?” There’s so much kindness in his voice, seeping into your skin. You know this is your chance to pull back, to continue the steady incline of your relationship with him instead of this jump. You don’t know if it’s your horny brain taking over or your logical side agreeing with it but, you want this.

“Zeke, if you don’t fuck me I’ll probably cry.” Maybe that wasn’t the best response to this situation, you realize, but you’ve long passed the point of being embarrassed for this. He lets out a rough laugh at your response, pressing his thumbs into the juncture of your thigh and hips. Before he does anything he wrestles a pillow from beneath the couch to sit under your hips, making you wiggle until you are comfy.

“We can’t have that, now can we?” It’s mocking but filled with affection. He glides his cock over your slick cunt to wet it a bit before prodding at your hole, sliding ina bit slowly to let you adjust. “Shit-” It feels completely different -- puffy, your insides are swollen and plush, caging his cock in an enticing vice.

His fingers are digging into your thighs as he holds his cock, pushing in until he reaches the base. Your nails are clasped to his bicep and you swear your eyes roll back from the pressure of his cock inside you. Stretches your walls to the max, pushing against all the soft ridges of your cunt.

“‘S too much-” He’s barely even moved since he’s been inside you and you’re already complaining? With your slurred words? Cute.

“You can handle it, can’t you?” He shouldn’t be mean, but this isn’t really mean, is it? Rocking his hips into yours, making sure the pillow propping up your hips stays in place, there are tears rimming your lashes from pleasure and little whines being pushed out of you from the force of his thrusts. You can’t even respond with words, he’s too deep and it feels too good and it’s been too long since experiencing this. You barely even use the dildos you have but he’s bigger, thick around the middle and the tip of his cock hammering into your soft patches that you can never reach, that send you closer to the edge sooner than you think.

The creaking of the couch echoes off the walls but the slaps of his thighs meeting yours feel much louder, it almost makes you dizzy. Zeke is glad your belly hasn’t gotten bigger otherwise he wouldn’t be able to situate himself on top of you anymore, elbows caging you in, his full-bodied warmth comforting you. You whisper curses into his mouth as he kisses you, still rocking into you, your legs wrapped around the back of his thighs to pull him ever deeper into you. Moans trapped by his lips and his own raspy groans by yours. Arms wrapped around his midsection with you nails digging into his back, your nipples brushing against his chest which is pleasurable in it’s own torturous way.

He can feel your plush cunt clench around him sporadically and your thighs tighten around him. The feeling deep in your belly is about to snap, the tears clinging to your lashes roll down the sides of your face and Zeke makes them disappear with wet kisses and a rough thumb, pushing your chin down to capture your lips with his again. “Gonna cum for me?” There he is again with a cock lilt to his voice that has your cunt quivering around his cock, but you have no room to complain right now. You are sure you’re leaving red streaks down his back now because it feels like every muscle in your body is tightening as you cream around his cock, leaving a translucent ring for him to mess up with a few more well placed thrusts that have him reaching closer to his own orgasm. “Cummin’ so pretty for me- fuck.” You hold him close and continue to constrict your cunt walls around him, his head placed near your neck for him to bite at as he fills you up, a deep rock into you and he stills, plugging his cum inside you.

Zeke wishes he could lay here forever, your belly between him and you, and him inside you. It’s a comfort in it’s own right, seeing you filled with him, claimed with his kid inside you, ontop of you in borderline possessiveness. There’s things you both need to speak about but right now he can predict you saying you are either hungry or needing a bath, or both.

After you both catch your breath he leans back, slipping his cock out in the process. It’s picturesque, seeing his seed slip from your cunt and down your ass, sticking in the curls around your cunt in the process, and seeing the previous fruits of his seed growing inside you. He didn’t expect to like it this much but fuck. You look godly, basking in the aftermath of a wonderful orgasm, truly glowing.

/ / :

“After you have this kid I’m fucking marrying you.” He doesn’t mean to say it but it’s too late to turn back now. Post-ciotal bliss must be fogging up his head.

You give him a wild deshevled look as you prop yourself up on an elbow. “Wha- Zeke what the fuck? Is this your way of trying to propose to me?”

It hurts that you sound offended but he does deserve that. “No, not yet, we have a lot to do before proposing.” His hands rub over your naked belly as he looks down at you.

“What does that even mean?”

“It means I have a lot of time between now and when you have them and I’m taking advantage of every second.”

You cough out a laugh, “You’re ridiculous. Our baby won’t be able to stand you, I bet.”

You don’t even notice the slip-up but he does -- ours, not my. “Of course, they won’t be able to stand, they’re a baby, they can’t even hold their heads up on their own.”

The pillow that was behind your head hits his face and he is laughing deep within his chest. You’re complaining about he’s going to evolve into worse and worse dad jokes but ah, if you are godly this must be heaven.

𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔨 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔯𝔢𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤 ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ♡

//: 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

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ssahotchhner · 3 years

Text

i’ll crawl home to her (LRPD part two)

PART ONE

hello again! thank u all again for paying attention to my first work! this has been a lot of fun for me to write the last few days. please feel free to send me any requests. if anyone was curious, the title of the first part was the title of a song by hozier, the title of this part is taken from another hozier song: work song (: i hope you guys like it and thank you again for reading!! pairing: hotch x reader

words: 7k

warnings: again, usual cm stuff, rape mention, kidnapping, knives, guns, bombs, cursing, some smut

chat with me!

You’ve been laying on your hotel bed, staring at the ceiling for hours. You thought you’d be sad, upset with yourself, but instead you’re angry. After you’d been stewing in it for a while, you stand and leave your room, ignoring the digital clock at your bedside that tries to remind you it’s nearly 2AM.

You storm all the way down the hallway until you’re outside Aaron’s door, knocking aggressively with no reprieve until the door opens. You ignore the feeling in your stomach at seeing him shirtless with pajama bottoms hanging low at his hips, his hair mussed from sleep. You feel a pang of guilt at waking him. You storm past him before he can invite you inside.

“Take back the suspension, now.” You demand, spinning to face him.

He slowly closes the door, “Agent, it’s 2AM. Have you slept?” He looks you over, answering his own question, “You haven’t slept in over 48 hours, we can talk about this in the morning.”

“Why are you punishing me for something I didn’t do?” Angry tears entered your eyes.

Hotch looks exhausted as he pulls a shirt over his head and sits on the edge of the bed, “I’m not punishing you--”

“Well it sure feels that way. What, you couldn’t stand to be around me, working with me anymore because of the other night so this is how you get rid of me?” The tears overflow, pouring down your cheeks, “Is that it then?”

He shakes his head sadly, “You know that’s not true.”

“Then what?!”

He takes a breath, “I can’t have you working in the field right now knowing you lied during your psych eval and you know that. You put yourself and the team at risk when you’re out in the field, keeping things from all of us.” You start to protest, but he holds up a hand to stop you, “When we get back, you can go through another evaluation without lying. And then, if you pass, you can have your gun and badge back, no questions asked.” You’re quiet and he has to ask, “Why did you lie?” He can’t hide the hurt in his voice, “You could’ve told me.”

Your face crumples, “I lied because I didn’t want you to look at me like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like a victim. Like damaged goods. Broken.”

He finally stands to come over to you, “I’ve never thought that, not for a single moment. I think you’re incredibly brave, stronger than you know.” He takes your face in his hands and gently tilts it up until you’re looking at him and brushes away your tears with the pads of his thumbs, “This doesn’t change any of that.”

You push him away and his arms fall to his sides again, “Then why do you keep treating me like an inconvenience?”

He decides now he should finally be honest with you, “Because the way I feel about you scares me, it’s inappropriate and I don’t know how to handle it. Haley’s the only woman I’ve ever been with, I don’t know how… I didn’t know if you even wanted me.”

You manage the smallest of smiles, “Thought you were supposed to be a profiler.”

He smirks and looks down, relieved that you’re finally, finally not upset with him, “I’m not good at profiling when it comes to you.”

“Well?” You ask and he looks back up at you again.

“Well, what?”

“Aren’t you going to ask me?”

“Ask you what?”

You smile, “If I want you.”

He smirks again, his brown eyes looking you up and down as he walks to you until he has you backed against a wall, “Do you want me?” He whispers in your ear, his breath against your skin sends chills down your spine.

You can only nod as he pulls back to look at your face and then his mouth is on yours. Soft and gentle at first, but then as his hands explore your body, his lips become needier, more insistent. You moan softly when he begins kissing and biting your neck, hands traveling lower until he’s rubbing you over your pants, “Is this okay?” He sounds so calm and in control, unlike the breathy mess he’s made you.

“Yes,” You say and bring his face back to yours.

He pulls away to look in your eyes, “I can stop, if you want.”

“No.” You say quickly, “Don’t stop.”

So he carries you to the bed, carefully removing your clothing as he kisses you all over. Soon, you’re both naked and he lays on his side, pulling away a bit as his eyes roam over you. “What’s the matter?” You say.

He shakes his head and runs his fingers along your shoulders, “Nothing, you’re perfect. I just want to look at you.”

You smile and run your hands down his chest, then back up to his shoulders, pulling yourself closer to him. “We can go slow,” You murmur and then slide a hand between his legs as he nearly gasps, “If you want.” You pump him once, twice, and he’s practically growling at you, quickly flipping the two of you so he’s kneeling between your legs.

He slowly pushes himself inside you, burying his face in your neck. You feel his smile against your skin when you moan with pleasure at being filled up. He thrusts slow and gentle, his eyes locking on yours, half to make sure you’re still okay and half for his own pleasure. It’s bliss watching how your mouth parts open that little bit, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head. Everything you do drives him absolutely crazy. Watching you and hearing the sound of your moans that he had imagined so often when he was alone is what sent him over the edge, and just like that you think it’s over. But just moments after finishing, he slides out of you and whispers, “Your turn” before his face disappears between your legs.

All you can really think as his mouth makes quick work of you, digging his fingers into your thighs and sneaking glances at you, is how you’re ever going to be able to work with him again without thinking of this. It’s that sight, the sight of your boss, normally so dominant, submissive to you now as he lays between your thighs, has that knot in your stomach unraveling as your back arches.

Once you’ve ridden out your high, he climbs back up next to you. You both lie on your backs, out of breath next to each other. When you both catch your breath, Aaron immediately pulls you to him until most of your body rests on his chest. He presses a kiss to your forehead, “I can’t tell you how long I’ve thought about doing that.” He says.

You smile, “Me too.”

“Really?” You can tell from his tone you’ve fueled his already inflated ego.

“Yeah, Aaron, everytime you roll up your sleeves, or shoot a gun, or wear a bulletproof vest,” You let out a low whistle and he laughs. You smile again, “I’ve missed making you do that.”

You’re both quiet for a while and you would think he was sleeping if not for the way his fingers kept stroking your arm, “Aaron?” You say after a while.

“Hm?”

You hesitate, knowing that once you say this you can never go back. But, you spit it out, “I love you.”

His hand stills on your arm and the silence feels so loud, you can hear your own heartbeat, “You should get some sleep.”

You’re glad for the darkness so he can’t see the pain on your face, or notice the way your heart shatters. You have no right to be upset, you know this, and yet… You turn away from him and you feel the bed shift as he does the same. And once his breathing evens out, you dress and sneak out to head back to your hotel room. You think he’s asleep, but he’s not. He’s too busy beating himself up for not saying it back to you when he knows he feels it.

Quickly, you pack your suitcase all while brushing tears from your eyes. You book your own flight home, not able to bear the jet ride home. Not only had you been suspended, but you’d been so vulnerable with your boss and he had rejected you.

You send a quick text to JJ to let the team know you won’t be on the jet and ignore all the texts that follow asking you what’s going on. Aaron doesn’t bother contacting you. Why would he? He knows why you’re not here.

He’s quiet and resentful the entire plane ride back and everyone knows better than to ask him what was wrong.

***

When you get back to your apartment you immediately head for your bar cart, pouring a heavy amount of tequila over ice and chugging it back. You knew halfway through you would regret it, but you finished anyway. Then, you carefully locked your door and headed to the shower.

***

“Maybe we should go check on her.” Penelope was telling JJ and Emily two days later at the bullpen. “She’s still not answering her phone.”

Aaron feels incredible guilt overhearing this conversation. He had eventually tried to call you as well to no avail. He was starting to get worried, but he wasn’t sure if he should be the one to go. It would be better if the rest of them went.

“What happened with the two of you that night?” Rossi comes to stand next to Aaron.

“Nothing,” He lies, “She’s still upset about the suspension I suppose.”

“I know she went to talk to you that night, Hotch.” He adds at Aaron’s look, “She’s not the only one on this team with insomnia. She didn’t leave again for hours and then she bought her own plane ticket. What did you say to her?”

He sighs, “It’s not so much what I said, but what I didn’t say.”

***

There’s a knocking at your door, you think. It’s hard to hear it over the record player that’s blasting the saddest songs you know of. But, sure enough, definitely knocking. You have half a mind to bury yourself under your weighted blanket and go back to sleep. You’re sure it’s Penelope’s voice you hear outside though, and how could you ignore her?

Reluctantly, you drag yourself out of bed and to the door. Swinging it open, you see Penelope, JJ, and Emily, standing at your door with takeout and several bottles of wine. There’s also a vase of red roses which causes you to frown, “Roses?”

“Oh, not from us,” Emily says quickly, “They were just sitting out here when we got here. Can we come in?”

You wish you could say no to them, but you know it’s your own fault that they’re here. After all, you hadn’t answered anyone’s calls or texts for two days. You step aside and they file in. You pick up the vase of flowers and bring them inside. They’re wilting a bit, meaning they had probably been waiting outside for you for at least a day. You set them on a table, knowing your colleagues are watching you closely and pluck a card from the flowers.

I’m sorry. -A

Wordlessly, you toss the card on the table, pick up all the roses and plop them in the trash. Nobody says anything and you pretend to ignore Penelope as she puts new water in the vase and then carefully takes the roses out of the trash and back in the vase. “Hotch?” JJ asks as you climb back in bed. Emily turns off the music.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You say quietly.

“That’s okay,” JJ says, sitting on the edge of your bed, “Can we talk about why you’re not at work, then?”

“I’m suspended, you guys know that.”

“Hotch said if you did another psych eval you could come back.” Emily says.

Penelope has scooched herself next to your head and tries to run her fingers through your hair, “Oh, honey, when was the last time you brushed your hair?”

You swat her hand away, “I won’t pass another psych eval.”

Penelope gets off the bed to find a hair brush. “If you tell us what really happened… with Bobby Tiller…” You flinch when JJ says his name, “We can help you through it.”

Penelope’s back and starts gently working her way through your tangles. You sigh, “Penelope can’t handle hearing about that kind of stuff.”

“If it’ll help you, yes I can.” She says quickly.

You frown, “Garcia--”

“I know what you guys deal with everyday. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t let you guys unload on me about it every now and then?”

You squeeze her hand, she was so good. “I’ll need some wine first, then.”

***

“A sexual sadist, where would he keep them?” You murmur to yourself, “He’s stayed in his comfort zone this whole time,” You make a circle on the map around the places where the victims were taken and then dumped, all within a five mile radius, “He needs somewhere no one would hear their screams…” You take out your phone and dial Penelope, “Garcia, can you triangulate the location of the last three body dumps and tell me if there’s any sort of abandoned building in the middle, maybe a church? A warehouse?”

“Can I?” The sound of her rapid typing fills your ears, “Y/N, you wound me so.”

You smile, waiting for her answer. “Bingo, you genius girl. There’s an abandoned factory right in the middle, sending you the address now.”

You’re already grabbing your coat, “Don’t tell anyone, Penelope, but you’re my favorite person on this team.”

She laughs, “Should I call you some backup?”

“No time,” You’re running to the SUV outside the police precinct now, “I’m the closest, everyone else is spread out. If I wait for them, the other girls will die.”

“Y/N, you can’t go there by yourself, I’ve seen those bodies, those victims--”

“Garcia, I’m fine, I can handle myself, just tell the team where I’m going.” You hang up before she can argue further, plugging in the address she gave you to the GPS in the car.

***

Aaron’s phone rings on his way back to the police department with Derek in the passenger seat, “Garcia, what’ve you got?”

“Sir, I’ve just sent an address to everyone, you have to go there now.” The panic in her voice has Hotch immediately making a U turn without question.

“What’s going on?” He demands as he drives, turning on his sirens.

“Y/N figured out where he’s keeping the girls, she left without backup,” Both Derek and Aaron visibly tensed at this news, “I told her I’d call backup and not to go without it, but she insisted there wasn’t time.” Garcia was nearly on the verge of tears.

“You did what you were supposed to do, baby girl, we’ll go get her.” Morgan reassures before Hotch hangs up and immediately calls you.

“Y/L/N.” You pick up on the third ring. You had considered letting it go to voicemail, knowing Hotch was going to order you not to do what you were about to do and knowing you were going to disobey him.

“I’m ordering you to wait for backup before you go in there.”

You sigh, “You know if I do that, they’ll die.”

“They might still die and you’ll just be another body to add to the pile.”

“Or I might get there in time.”

“This is not a request, it’s an order, agent. We’re on our way.”

“Would you wait?”

“Excuse me?”

“If it was you sitting outside where there might be two girls still alive inside, would you wait?”

He’s quiet for a moment, “I don’t fit his victimology the way you do.”

“I don’t recall ‘armed FBI agent’ being included in the victimology.”

“Don’t do this.” His voice is a desperate whisper and it’s almost enough to get you to stop.

“Just drive faster.” You say and take the phone away from your ear, hearing your boss yell your name until you hang up.

But you didn’t make it to the girls. He was waiting for you, you didn’t even have a chance. He came up behind you only moments after you hung up with Hotch and hit you hard enough on the head to knock you unconscious.

He had your hands tied and packed you away in his pickup truck, driving away long before Hotch and Morgan arrive on the scene.

“Hotch!” Morgan yells, as Aaron’s running back from the building. You weren’t inside. Morgan shakes his head when Hotch meets his eyes, “He’s got her.” He says resolutely, pointing to your badge, gun, and cellphone that lay in the dirt by the tire of your SUV. “She didn’t even make it inside.”

Aaron’s head is spinning, only moments away from losing control. He has you. “Hotch, keep it together, we’ll find her, okay?” Morgan says quietly.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Morgan!” He shouts, “A sexual sadist has her right now--”

“And you’re wasting time letting your emotions get the best of you, man! Come on now, look-- LOOK!” Derek directs his attention to the dirt road, “He couldn’t have gotten far with her, look at the tire tracks. Let’s go, we’ll call the team on the way.”

They drove only two minutes before they couldn’t decipher the tire tracks anymore, Hotch bangs on the steering wheel, cursing before dialing Spencer, “Reid, where else would he go? He knew we were coming, where would he bring her?”

“I-- I don’t know, somewhere he’s familiar with, he could have had a backup location, it has to be nearby. If he knows we’re coming he knows he won’t have a lot of time with her, he’d want it to be close so he could--”

“That’s enough boy wonder, call us when you have an address.” Morgan says, taking the phone from Hotch and hanging it up. “She made the choice to go, she knew what she was doing. She’s smart, she’s resourceful, she’s gonna make it.”

Hotch ignores him, only drives further. His knuckles turn white with how he’s clenching the wheel, just barely keeping his anger in check. If he has to find your body, he doesn’t know what he’ll do.

***

When you wake, you’re only aware that you’re being carried. You do a quick assessment while pretending to be unconscious and find your hands tied. The weight of your gun is missing from your hip. You’re still outside, you can tell from the wind and the sun, but you won’t be for long. Your guess is this will be your last shot to escape.

You count to ten and then you roll from his arms. You’ve surprised him and you’re able to kick up at him once you’ve fallen, hitting him in the groin. With your hands tied, you struggle to get to your feet, but you do and you run like hell, looking for a road.

Your head still hurts from where he hit you and you’re dizzier than you would like, so eventually he catches up to you again. You can no longer deny your human instincts and you scream, hysterical as he tackles you. “Aaron!” You yell, “I’m here! Help!”

To your horror, the unsub only laughs, “Will you shut the hell up?”

And then he chokes you, not to kill, but to get you unconscious. It works. And then he drags you to the bunker.

***

“If this call isn’t to tell me where she is, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Hotch, we talked to the unsub’s parents, they talked about an abandoned bunker just a mile south of where he was holding the girls. He used to go there when he was a teenager, probably to do drugs or kill animals.”

Hotch is already swinging the car around, “Give me an address.”

***

When you wake again, first everything’s only white. Then, you see his face.

“I can smell the fear on you.” He smiles.

You manage to keep your face neutral. What would Emily do? Hotch? Spencer? “I’m not afraid of you.” You manage, and to your own surprise, your voice doesn’t shake.

“You know what I am,” He traces a knife along your face, “What I’ve done to those women. You more than anyone… You should be terrified of me.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“That’s alright, sweetheart.” He rips the buttons of your shirt loose and you try not to flinch, “We’re just getting started.”

***

“Morgan, take the back, I’ll take the front.” Hotch orders, “Prentiss, you’re with Morgan, Reid you’re with me. Let’s go.”

From the profile, they all knew he was planning on being caught. He would come quietly. All they could hope was that they got to him before he finished his final job. You.

They entered quietly, but they could hear soft crying deeper in. Alive, you were alive. Hotch and Spencer carefully cleared each hallway until they got to the room you were in. The unsub had you pulled to his chest, your clothes ripped and barely covering you. You were whimpering, tears shining on your cheeks and it took Aaron absolutely everything not to abandon protocol and tackle him.

Instead, he points his gun steady, “Bobby Tiller, it’s over, drop the knife.”

“Why?” He says, smiling, “Why shouldn’t I kill her in front of you?” His smile widens, “You’re Aaron, aren’t you?” He laughs now, “She cried out for you. Outside. Where were you, Aaron?”

Aaron’s restraint is hanging by a thread, he tries not to let this information get to him. “I said put it down!” He yells.

At that moment, he sees Morgan and Prentiss coming in from behind, guns raised.

“I bet it would just destroy you to watch me kill her, I can see it in your eyes. Wouldn’t that be a fun way to go out? I would win.”

“You haven’t won anything, you either die here or you rot in jail.”

“Exactly, which means I have nothing to lose by killing her.” He was done talking, was about to slit your throat when a shot rang out from behind. It was Morgan and he had hit Bobby square in the back.

You fall forward, hyperventilating a bit as Spencer rushes to you, pulling you into his arms and telling you it’s going to be okay. Hotch watches you, but keeps his distance, careful not to let the enormous relief he feels show except in the way his shoulder slump forward. “I need a medic.” He relays to the backup that’s on its way here and then he walks out of the bunker, letting Morgan and Reid help you out.

On the plane ride back, he sits by you as you look out the window, “Are you alright?”

You spare him a glance and then gaze back out the window, “I’ll be fine.”

He’s quiet for another moment, not wanting to ask what he has to ask. “Did he…?”

“No.” You answer quickly. “He didn’t have time.”

A small victory, he knows, but a victory nonetheless, “You’ll have to undergo a psych evaluation before I can allow you back in the field.”

“I know.”

“Take at least a week off and then we’ll schedule the evaluation and if you’re cleared you’re welcome back whenever you’re ready.”

You nod, “Okay.”

He lets a few minutes pass before he says anything else, “Was he telling the truth? Did you call for me by name?”

You shrug indifferently, smiling, but he can hear the tears in your voice, “I knew you and Derek were probably nearby. We were still outside and I could see the road. So I tried. That’s all.”

He chews the inside of his cheek, fists clenched beneath the table between them, “I’m sorry.”

You’re already shaking your head, “Don’t do that. You got to me in time. It was my decision to go inside.”

He nods, “And if you hadn’t shown up, those girls would be dead.”

You manage a smaller smile. Bobby Tiller had had to abandon the other girls when you showed up so Morgan and Hotch were able to call them an ambulance before they left to find you. “I know.”

“I would have done it.”

“Hm?”

“You asked me before you went if I would’ve gone in alone. I would have.”

You smile again, but your eyes are sad, “I know.”

***

“But he did, rape you, didn’t he?” Emily said quietly.

There were silent tears streaming down both yours and Penelope’s faces. You nod, “Yeah. It didn’t last very long, but yes he did.”

“Did he… Did he torture you the way he did with the other women?” Emily has to ask, has to know if you’re hiding anything else from them.

You’re already shaking your head, “No,” And at Emily’s insistent stare, you repeat yourself, “No, I swear. He held me at knifepoint while he did it which, you know, cut me a little bit,” You rub at your chest, though the shallow cuts had long ago healed, “But I swear, he didn’t have time for much else before you guys found me.”

“I’m so sorry you went through that,” JJ reaches out and squeezes your arm.

You shrug, “It’s alright. It was my choice to go in there alone, I knew what might happen.”

“That doesn’t mean you deserve what happened.” Emily says.

“I know.” You nod.

Penelope’s been quiet since she finished brushing your hair, now just mindlessly running her hands through it, “How have you just been functioning as usual since you came back after that?” Her voice shakes and you feel terrible for exposing her to this.

You squeeze her hand and shrug, “You just… learn to adapt. I knew you were all watching my every move. I didn’t want anyone worried about me and so I made sure they had nothing to worry about. Until this case.”

“What happened in the interrogation room that had Hotch so shook up?”

“Well,” You sighed, “I played the role of potential victim, made him like me, forgot he was uncuffed and egged him on until he tried to strangle me.”

“Yeah, that’ll do it,” Penelope chided.

“You could pass another psych eval.” Prentiss said, “You seem to be coping better than most people.”

“I have nightmares.” You admit, “It’s why I don’t sleep on the jet anymore. I don’t want any of you to see that.”

“We’ll help you through,” JJ says, “If you want to come back you should come back. The team needs you.”

You scoff, “You guys don’t need me.”

“Excuse me, fairy queen of the universe, but you don’t get a say in that.” Penelope tugs on a piece of your hair.

“We miss you.” JJ says sincerely.

You sigh, “Okay. I’ll, uh, go see Hotch tomorrow.”

“There will be black SUV parked here if you haven’t gotten your butt in the office by 10AM, understand?” Penelope teases.

“Yes, yes, now everybody out of my apartment so I can sleep.”

The girls laugh on their way out and when you close the door you sigh and lean your back against it, only to see the roses sitting on your table again. You chew on your lip for a moment before shutting off all the lights in the apartment and climbing into bed. You would deal with Hotch tomorrow.

***

You ignored the whispers of your colleagues as you walked into the bullpen, marching straight into Hotch’s office and closing the door behind you. The smell of his cologne filled your nose the farther you walked into his office. You tried to ignore the memories it triggered.

He looks up and for a moment he looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“Y/N.”

You smirk, “Bet you thought you got rid of me.”

“You cut your hair.”

It was true, you had decided to give yourself bangs in a fit of insomnia last night. You thought they looked cute, “Nothing gets by you, unit chief.”

He hasn’t cracked a smile this whole time and he still doesn’t, “If you want to transfer to a different unit, I can make that happen.”

You’re shaking your head before he can finish, “Regardless of whatever happened between us, this team is my family. I don’t want to work anywhere else.”

He watches you carefully, “Then it’s time for your psych eval, I can have someone meet with you in an hour. In the meantime, I’m sure the team’s missed you, you can go chat with them.” He looks back down at his work, not waiting for you to leave.

“Thank you for the flowers.”

He looks back up, “I thought you maybe threw them away.”

“I did, actually, Penelope took them out of the trash. So on my table, they stay.” He almost laughs. “What are you sorry for, Aaron?”

His jaw clenches when you say his name. “For your suspension, for humiliating you in front of your colleagues, for crossing a line with you that I never should have even toed.”

You nod slowly, “So you regret it. What we did.”

Hotch glances out the window of his office, making sure no one’s around, “I… regret hurting you. Not what we did.”

“Spencer thinks you’re in love with me, you know?”

He frowns, “Does he?”

“He said you lost your mind when I was taken. I told him you would act that way had any team member been taken, but he insisted that it was different.”

“Is that all, agent?” He says after staring at you for a moment, dismissing you.

“Yes, sir.” You swallow, “That’ll be all.”

And just like that he’s back to his paperwork. You try to tell yourself it doesn’t bother you, but your heart aches all the same as you leave his office and head towards your colleagues. Spencer is the first to run to you, making you smile as he crushes you into a hug and catches you up on everything you’ve missed. Everyone talks to you for a while, but then they soon get back to work. “Did you talk to Hotch?” Emily asked when everyone had gotten back to their work.

“Yeah. We talked.” You say flatly.

“I don’t like that tone.”

You shrug, “Maybe he doesn’t love me or maybe he’s not ready, but he won’t tell me which, so. It doesn’t matter, it’s probably better this way.”

Emily doesn’t tell you, but she’s noticed that since you left his office, SSA Aaron Hotchner hasn’t stopped watching you. He was definitely in love with you, it was just a matter of time before he admitted it.

***

You passed your psych eval and practically skipped to Hotch’s office to get your gun and badge back. When he saw you walk in, he immediately reached into his desk drawer to retrieve them for you and placed them on his desk. “I’m thinking about requesting a transfer.”

“Hotch, I already told you, I don’t want--”

“Not for you, for me.”

You pull your hand away from your gun and badge as if you’ve been burned, “You can’t.”

“It’s irresponsible for us to be working on the same team together like this.”

You shake your head, “If anything we make this team better for it, you can’t…” You let out a shaky breath, “I swear, Hotch, I’ll never cross that line again if it means you staying--”

“It’s not you I’m worried about.”

The world seems to sort of tip on its axis, “What are you talking about?”

“Do you even understand how difficult it is to be in this room with you right now and not touch you?”

You stare at him as if you’ve never seen him before. Slowly, you sink into the seat across from his desk, “Hotch, you can’t leave. The team needs you.”

“They’ll be just fine without me.”

“I need you.” You’re staring at his desk, unable to meet his eyes after the admission, “Please don’t take away one of the only things in this job that help me to cope with what we see everyday.”

He’s quiet and you risk a look at him. He’s watching you and you swear he’s looking at you tenderly, but it’s only for a moment before his usual stoic mask falls back into place, “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, agent. JJ should be briefing us on a new case soon, you should go get resettled.”

You debate staying, arguing with him until he promises to stay, but you know from how vulnerable he’s been with you already that you’re on thin ice. Reluctantly, you take your badge and gun and leave his office.

***

You’ll admit it, you’re distracted as JJ debriefs you all in the conference room. This time, it’s a serial bomber and you hate to say it, but you’re relieved to not be dealing with a sexual sadist again. Bombs are Morgan’s specialty, so he speaks through most of the debriefing.

“Everyone, get your things together. Wheels up in twenty.” Hotch says before leaving the room.

“Y/N.” You look up to see Derek watching you, “What’s going on now?”

You tense at the hint of annoyance in his voice, but he should be annoyed. Yours and Hotch’s personal relationship has thrown this team for more than a week now. You clear your throat, “Hotch is thinking of transferring out of the BAU. Because of me.”

The room goes still, “He can’t.” Reid says first.

You can’t meet any of their eyes. This was all your fault.

“I’ll talk to him.” Rossi says quietly and leaves the room.

“If it comes to that, I’ll resign first.” You try to assure them, “I won’t let him step down.”

“We need both of you on this team.” JJ said firmly.

You nodded, but you knew it wasn’t true. Aaron was more essential to the BAU, it wasn’t a secret. He knew everyone’s strengths and weaknesses better than they did. His authority was able to demand respect and admiration, while also being a friend to everyone here. He couldn’t be replaced.

Rossi and Hotch sat in the back of the jet, voices low as they argued back and forth. The rest of the team pretended to not eavesdrop, but you were just watching Aaron. He was stressed, more than normal when working a case. You hated that you were the source of that. You wish you could drape your arms around the back of his shoulders, squeeze them, kiss his temple, promise him it would all be alright.

But he didn’t want that. You shift your focus to the window on the jet.

***

When the house exploded in front of you and Morgan, you kept running until he grabbed you, “Stop, stop! They’re gone!”

“They could still be in there!” You scream and fight against him, but he’s stronger than you.

“They’re gone, Y/N.”

You angrily push him off and walk in the other direction, feeling the need to break something. There were kids in that house.

“What the hell was that?” Hotch is fuming when you and Morgan come back to the precinct, but his anger is directed at you. The entire room goes silent, all eyes on the two of you.

“Hotch, back off.” Morgan warns.

“You should’ve gotten there in plenty of time, what happened?”

You glower at him, not in the mood to be humiliated again in front of everyone, “We got there as fast as we could, the bomb went off earlier than expected.”

“There were children in there.”

“You think I don’t know that?!” You yell now, your angry tears finally spilling over, “What, do you think I wanted this to happen?”

“Y/N, enough.” Morgan whispers harshly.

“You’re out of line, agent.” Hotch is calm again and it makes you feel crazy, how he can so quickly turn off his emotions.

You shake your head and walk by him, “This is bullshit.” You mutter.

You expect him to continue yelling at you, but instead he puts a forceful hand on your back and ushers you into a private room, “Is there a problem, agent?” He asks once he’s closed the door.

“Me?” You raise your eyebrows, “You want to know if I have a problem? You’re the one who attacked me for no reason as if I don’t feel shitty enough already for not getting to that family fast enough.”

“Why did you tell them about the transfer?”

“Oh,” You nearly laugh, “Oh, is that what this is about?”

“It wasn’t your place.”

“Oh, it wasn’t? What was it you said to me about keeping things from the team? It puts us all in danger.”

“This is not the same and you know it.”

You scoff and throw your hands up in the air, “Well, lesson learned, I guess you shouldn’t tell me things anymore. Can I go now?”

He’s watching you with his arms crossed. He knows he should apologize, but he can’t bring himself to. He nods and you leave the room, slamming the door on the way out. He watches Prentiss reach out to you and you brush her off as you storm out of the precinct. He wishes he would stop doing things to upset you, but for some reason he can’t seem to stop himself.

***

You avoid him the rest of the day and after finally calling it a day at nearly midnight, the team heads back to the hotel. You spend the night making coffee and going over the suspect list when there’s a knock on your door.

You open it without checking the peep hole, thinking it has to be Spencer or Emily, wanting to talk about the case. Instead, Aaron stands at your door. His suit jacket and tie are missing, but otherwise he’s still in his work clothes. “May I come in?”

You take a step back and wordlessly allow him inside before closing the door behind you. “You should really check who’s outside the door before answering.”

“Did you come here to lecture me, sir?”

He glances around the room, “You should be resting, not working on the case.”

“Yes, well, someone reminded me today what a terrible job I’ve been doing so I’m trying to make up for it.”

His eyes dart to yours and you think you see shame there, “I didn’t mean what I said earlier, I’m sorry. I know you’re doing your best--”

“Well obviously, my best isn’t enough.” He opens his mouth to argue, but you stop him, “Do you need something, sir?”

He sighs and shakes his head, looking at the floor, “It’s… driving me insane being around you and knowing how we left things.”

You sigh and turn away from him, “I don’t want to talk about this, Hotch--”

“Please stop calling me that.” He says breathlessly.

The desperation in his voice makes you turn back to him, “Aaron,” You say slowly instead, “I shouldn’t have said what I said to you, I understand now that you don’t feel the same and that’s fine, I can deal with it--”

“The problem is that I do feel the same and I have felt that way for longer than I care to admit.”

You frown, “Then… why?”

“I don’t want to ruin your career and I worry that this would. You’re a woman in the FBI, there are men in the bureau who would… tear you apart for being romantically involved with a superior.”

“So what? I’ll prove them wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time a man in the bureau underestimated me, but you know that.”

He sighs, “Yes, I remember when you applied to the BAU. You were from Hostage and Rescue, the only woman there at the time and they practically benched you. But you knew you were more than capable.”

“I’m not afraid of them, Aaron. Now say it to me.”

He steps close to you, his proximity overwhelming all of your senses, “Are you absolutely sure about this?”

“I’ve never been more sure.”

“In that case,” He brings a hand to your face and you lean into his palm, “I’m in love with you.” He gives you that small smile, the one where his eyebrows relax for once, out of their permanent scowl.

You smile, but you don’t answer, giggling a bit when he leans in to kiss you. “I like the new hair, by the way.” He says between kisses.

You hum contentedly as he runs his fingers through it, “I love you, too, Aaron.”

He stays in your hotel room all night and this time, neither of you sneak out in the middle of the night.

***

You and Aaron aren’t overly affectionate in front of your colleagues, but they notice the change between you immediately as you board the plane. When you sit next to him while still in discussion with Emily, he looks at you and smiles. And then, when you finally fall asleep on the jet, your head rests on Aaron’s shoulder. If your colleagues look under the table in front of you (they do) they’ll see Aaron’s hand resting on your thigh.

Emily is shaking her head at Aaron while you sleep, “What?” He asks without looking at her.

“Nothing, I’m just happy you guys finally figured it out.”

“Agreed,” Spencer interjected, “I was beginning to think you’d kill each other first.”

Aaron simply chuckles and kisses your forehead when he thinks no one’s looking. “Hotch,” Morgan says and Aaron looks over, “I know you’re my boss and all, but you ever hurt her we’re gonna have to fight it out, you understand?”

Hotch only smiles again, “I would expect nothing less.”

Nobody notices how you’re also smiling, quietly faking sleep as an excuse to cuddle up to Aaron.

#criminals minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fanfic #hotch x reader #hotch imagine #hotch fluff #hotch angst #hotch smut #mine

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afriendlyblackhottie · 3 years

Text

Risk

Summary: Chris couldn’t believe he was finally meeting you and you were even more more perfect than what he’d seen in your music videos.

Pairings: Chris Evans x Black!Pop Star!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Smut, Daddy Kink, Face Riding, Oral (female receiving), Girl on Top, Missionary, brief doggy style

(A/N: this has been sitting in my WIPs for a minute so it’s kind of a relief to finally put it out. Anyway, like, comment, or reblog.)

Tagged: @titty-teetee, @harrysthiccthighss, @iam-laiya, @mariahthelioness29, @night-of-the-living-shred, @liquorlaughslove, @blackmissfrizzle, @whiskey-cokenfanfic, @olyvoyl, @zaddychris

There was no way Chris could have possibly focused on the interviewer’s questions when you were so close. Your tight shirt showed off your tits so well it was distracting. As you laughed, they jiggled and he couldn’t help the half smile that came on his face as he couldn’t help himself, but to take a glance.

What was fucked up was that this was for a charity. You were a pop star that was very involved in investing in programs to protect the arts. He coming from a family of theatre nerds was of course interested in the same thing. The two of you got paired up for an interview. Only meeting for the first time today as there’d been a fundraiser event. Though Chris had been obsessing over you since he’d found out your name.

The first thing that struck him about you was how goddamn gorgeous you were in person. All of the pictures of you online didn’t even do you justice. He’d went through all your albums surprising himself with how much he actually liked them. You sounded like an angel yet your lyrics could be downright filthy sometimes. When he’d watched your most recent music video, he found himself growing hard seeing you in that tiny outfit and shaking your ass.

He’d seen your music videos. Watched a few live performances. Maybe clicked on a few interviews because he needed to know how your voice sounded. None of it prepared him for reality.

Those eyes and your lips. Fuck he could kiss the fuck out of your lips. You looked like you’d just walked straight out of his fantasies.

Nothing prepared him for how your ass looked in those jeans. His hand twitched as he managed to fight off the urge to just grab it. Then there were those perfect tits. Perfectly swelled under your t-shirt. Being distracting.

His eyes raked up and down your body another time. This time you’d laughed at something he had said. He wasn’t prepared for how giggly you were. How bubbly you were.

It honestly felt like he’d known you for years with how comfortable he found himself. Like you two were old friends catching up instead of strangers. As he made a shitty attempt to respond to something the interviewer had said your head turned as you listened. “Well, the arts have always been important to me,” his voice low and raspy like he’d just woken up. “My family was insanely involved in theatre when I was growing up and I jumped around from piano to tap dancing. I even did ballet for a little.”

You raised an eyebrow, a smile spreading on your face when he’d said that. “Really?” You perked up. “I did ballet.”

Of course, he knew that already because he’d taken a look at your Wikipedia page. “Really? How long?”

“I did it for,” you drew out the last word as you thought, “ten years, I think.”

He nodded almost losing himself as he looked into your eyes. “Wow that’s a long time. You must have loved it.”

“I did.” You smiled. “It was such an important part of my life growing up. All the friends I made. The things I learned and discipline. It’s also why I’m so flexible.” You giggled looking over at him again with this look in your eyes.

Were you flirting with him?

He quirked an eyebrow also grinning. His eyes darting from your eyes to your lips then back. How were you so goddamn pretty?

The interview moved forward with you sending signals that you were definitely flirting with him. You giggled at everything he said. Had played with your hair making you crane your neck to the side. The way your tits were fucking jiggling anytime he said anything mildly amusing. How you’d positioned yourself so they were perked up towards him.

Once everything had wrapped up, the both of you had been whisked away by your respective teams. He got one last good view of you walking away before being told to move onto the next thing.

It took two hours before your paths would cross again. This time at the panel the two of you were part of. You were once again seated beside each other. You were once again giggling at everything he said, while fixing your hair craning your neck to the side, and perking your tits in his direction. His hand twitched again as he fought the urge to grab your hand when you touched his bicep playfully to add onto something he’d just said.

This time when this had come to an end he’d manage to avoid being whisked away by his team. Getting off of stage fast enough to where they didn’t even see him. You lingered behind sort of blending in with the crowd as you managed to slip away.

The two of you bumped into each other smiles immediately spreading over your faces. “Hey.” The two of you said at the same time.

You bit your lip as the corners of your mouth were turned up. He let out a sigh before swallowing. “And here I thought I’d found the perfect hiding spot,” he said.

“Actually, I’ve been eyeing this spot since we got here so I think I found it.” You joked back.

“Mmm, I don’t know. Maybe we should wrestle over it.”

You shook your head with a pout. “Sorry I can’t do that. I’m a lover not a fighter. “

He chuckled. Fuck you were cute. “Could I be a lover and a fighter?”

“Ohhh I don’t know. I feel like that’s cheating.”

He shrugged. “Sometimes you have to play dirty to win.”

That fucking giggle. Those goddamn jiggling tits. That goddamn hair. That fucking neck. And you perking your tits out. Except this time, you gave him a pretty generous glimpse down your shirt.

“You busy after this?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Does catching up on Netflix count?”

He laughed. “Yes, but well I was thinking of going out for dinner after this thing,” he said, trying to suppress whatever urge he was constantly getting to touch you. “And, I didn’t want to look like a dick and eat alone.”

At this point we got the point of how you were trying to convey your flirty ness with him. “And?”

“And,” he started, “I was wondering if you’d wanna join me.”

You nodded. “Where we going?”

He shrugged. “Wherever you want, Honey.”

“Don’t tell me that. I can be expensive,” you seemed to purr. Everything about you was making him feel like he was fifteen again and waking up from a wet dream.

He nodded eyes drifting down to your lips. “You’d be worth every penny. Gimme your number so I can find you after?”

You nodded. “It’s a date.”

“Yeah,” his mouth twitched as you walked away from him. He eyed you up and down as your backside was to him. Damn your ass looked good in those jeans.

—

It’d been a pretty long day, but finally it was over. Like promised through text, you and Chris managed to get away from your teams in order to be whisked away in a town car to a bar he said was great.

The two of you talked on your way over. This time you were a little more subdued. Your voice was lower, sensual. It made him feel like someone had hugged his heart and dick at the same time.

He was sitting so close as he’d managed to get the most private booth in the place so the two of you could talk. He was so damn close to you and you hadn’t moved the whole time his arm was around you. In fact, you seemed even closer than before.

He wanted to kiss you so damn bad. “You gotta man?” He asked, before taking a sip of his beer.

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’ in the word.“You gotta girlfriend?”

“Nah,” he sighed. “Been single for a minute.”

You nodded. “Oh damn. You poor thing.” You rested your hand on his thigh.

“Yeah? How long you been single?” He asked grabbing your hand and playing with your fingers. That twitch in his hand had finally won. Your skin was just as soft as it looked like it’d be.

You shrugged. “For like a year,” you answered. Liking the feel of his rougher hand against yours. “I get so busy I don’t even think about it.”

“Yeah, same.” He somehow managed to scoot you closer to him. “Then sometimes you meet a cute stranger and then maybe you end up taking them home to smoke.”

You chuckled. “How do you know I smoke?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t everyone in this town smoke?”

You nodded shrugging your shoulders. “True.” You smiled. “Fine.”

After calling another town car and him paying the tab you were on his way to his place. Chris was still finding ways to touch you. Not that you were complaining that you were sitting so close.

Now the joint was resting between his lip as the television played in the background. Chris let out a big puff of smoke.

You were still sitting way to close. As he grabbed your hand again. Running his thumb across your knuckles. You were telling him a story about this photo shoot you had a few weeks ago that just so happened to be with you in lingerie. Then in turn he told you about a photo shoot he had to do for a free weeks ago where he just so happened to be shirtless the whole time.

Then you started talking about your favorite movies. To him telling you stories about all the shit that went down behind the scenes. Which led to you telling him stories about being on tour. Then you talked about music and he felt someone tug at his heart strings with the way your face lit up when talking about your favorite musicians.

He had to kiss you.

With the joint in between his fingers he leaned down to finally brush his lips against yours. “God, you’re fucking beautiful,” his voice once again at that low tone, raspy like he’d just woken up.

“You think so?” You looked up at him so innocently, peering up at him through those lashes.

He took another hit of the joint before leaned back down to your mouth. He blew the smoke into your mouth before kissing you again.

You started to make out deep. Stroking his cheek with your thumb. His tongue slid against yours as he pulled you onto his lap. You moaned into his mouth suddenly feeling all airy. If Chris wasn’t holding onto you, you may have drifted away.

He leaned to the side so he could put out the joint. When both of his hands were free, he put them under your ass so he could get handfuls of each cheek in each hand. Then making it jiggle.

You broke away from him so you could finally pull that top over your head. “Fuck,” he hissed seeing the tops of your breasts. You quickly reconnected your lips. One of his hands grabbed at you through your lacy white bra.

You let out a whimper that was like music to his ears. His mouth trailed down to your neck hoping to kiss you in a spot where you’d be forced to make that noise again. You shivered as his lips left hot opened mouth kisses on your skin.

Then it was time for Chris to pull his own shirt over his head, exposing his muscular physique. You put your hands on his shoulders as you kissed him more. He reached behind you to undo your bra. Your nipples all sensitive as they were exposed to the night air. Your body felt all fuzzy as you giggled when he smacked your ass.

His hands reached up to play with them. Fuck it was better than any thought he’d had about them since you’d met. Rubbing your nipples with his thumbs and making you moan.

You got off of him so you could undo your jeans. Except before you could even pull them off, he made you lay on the couch as he slid them off of you. He kissed along your stomach at first. Then he proceeded to take off your jeans and panties at the same time.

When you were finally completely exposed to him, he kissed you again. Then his mouth started practically worshipping your breasts. He licked your nipples with the tip of his tongue. He came to suck it wanting to hear that goddamn whimper again and then reeling at the other little noises you were making. “Fuck,” you moaned. He gave your other boob similar treatment before kissing a trail down to your lower half.

He could have died and gone to heaven after seeing that pretty pussy. He flicked his tongue over your clit loving the taste of your arousal. He’d pushed your thighs up so he could properly feast on you. Fuck you were so wet for him.

He wrapped his arms around your thighs so he could get as deep as possible. You were moaning so much for him. The noises you were making were fucking pornographic.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” you whined.

He stopped to kiss up your body so he could kiss your lips again. You could taste yourself on his lips. His fingers stayed on your pussy as he kissed you again. You gasped against him, throwing your head back.

His moved to your tits again. His tongue was craving to suck on them again as he finger fucked you. As you exploded around his fingers he decided to rub your clit to draw it out.

“Daddy!” You screamed.

“What’d you just call me, Baby?” He asked still rubbing your clit as you clung to him.

“I- I,” you stuttered, but it was hard to talk when he was doing that to you. “Ugh, Daddy!”

“That’s a good girl,” he kissed you again.

He finally carried you off to his bedroom with your legs wrapped around his waist. He’d taken you apart so easily. Like he’d done this to you so many times before. Instead he’d just been thinking about it so much he didn’t want to fuck it up.

He sat down with you still wrapped around him. His jeans were still on, but you could feel him through his jeans and fuck. He felt so huge against you as he moved you right over it.

His fingers reached between you two so he could rub your clit again. Chris wasn’t your usual type, but you couldn’t deny that he was fine as fuck. Or that he was dangerously charming.

When he’d finally taken off his jeans and underwear, he sat you back in his lap so you were straddling him. He was holding you tight against him so even when you tried to sink down onto him because fuck you wanted to so bad, he wouldn’t let you. Like he needed you to know who was in control.

“Ride my face,” he said, slapping your ass.

You giggled. “Really?”

“Yeah you taste fucking delicious.”

You looked down at him as you could see his eyes peeking out. From underneath you. He really was eating you up like you’d be his last meal.

He felt like he was in heaven with his head between your legs. Like you were sweeter than any candy he could ever eat. Better than jelly beans. “Oh my god,” you breathed out a moan.

You moved your hips trying to ride his tongue, but it was almost too much. His beard was burning your thighs only adding to how good it felt. You grabbed at his hair while he smacked your ass again, palming it in his large hand.

He felt like he could taste your orgasm. The way you leaked out into his mouth. He didn’t even care that you were making such a big mess on his face. “Daddy, yes!” You gasped. You put your hands on the headboard to brace yourself because as your stomach started to tighten you could tell this one was going to be much more powerful. “I’mgonnacum,” you rattled off.

He chuckled into you pushing his fingers into you again making it so you had to ride his hand, too. How the fuck was this man able to get you like this and you hadn’t even taken his dick yet. Fuck you needed to take it.

He didn’t even let up when it happened. It was like he wanted more of you. He was drinking you up. Wanting to have you at his mercy. Like this was the last chance he’d get to feel your pussy on his tongue and he needed to take advantage.

It took two more orgasms for him to finally let you up. You fell down onto the bed completely spent. He didn’t even care as he kissed you hungrily. Quickly pushed you onto your back, wrapping his arms around your thighs and didn’t even give you time to realize what was happening before he slammed into you.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to feel you around his dick. And fuck did it feel perfect. You were so tight. So wet. So damn sexy with the way your mouth formed into an O because how was he moving his hips like that.

It should have been illegal for him to fuck you like this. For him to leave your pussy craving more from him. How the hell were you supposed to come back from this.

He fucked into your spot like he already knew where it was. Like the two of you had done this so many times before. All you could do was take it. All you wanted to do was take it and take it and never stop taking it.

You were everything he’d thought you’d be since he’d saw that first fucking music video. Your sparkly acrylic nails scratched his back. “Fuck me, Chris.”

He slapped your ass. “You call me Daddy,” he growled into your ear.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you buried your face into his neck. He should have not been able to fuck you this well. You bit your lip, as he put his forehead against yours.

The burn from the way he split you open was so good. This couldn’t have been the last time the two of you did this. Not when he was this deep inside of you.

The first time you came around him he pulled out of you so he could lay beside you. Then because he didn’t give a fuck about how it was too much or whatever you kept saying he made you sink down on his dick.

Your pussy creamed down his length. You kept telling yourself that you couldn’t take it even though you were riding his dick like such a good girl. The bed was shaking so hard you were scared you might break something.

This was about to be a long night.

—

Chris couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this fucked out. It was like when he thought he had enough you’d pounce on him and when you thought you’d had enough he’d do the same to you. Until finally the two of you passed out with his arms wrapped around you and you buried into his chest.

He kissed your forehead, nuzzling your face with his nose. He felt content for the first time in a long time with you there. Like you were meant to be there in his arms. You’d barely gone to bed at four in the morning so it was no wonder you were still asleep at ten a.m.

When he realized the time, he groaned because he was so late. He reached for his phone seeing the tons of missed called. “Baby?” He shook you gently.

“Mmm,” you hummed as you finally peeked up at him. “Fuck, what time is it?”

“Ten thirty,” he answered.

“Fuck,” you groaned, but didn’t even attempt to move. “My managers gonna kill me.”

He grinned because you looked so cute half asleep. “Same.” He pecked your lips. “Good morning, though.”

“Good morning,” you replied saying fuck it in your head as you stayed where you were. You were too comfortable to move.

“We should do this again sometime,” he said, tracing patterns into your skin.

“I’d like that,” you replied.

“You busy tomorrow?”

“I have some stuff to do in the morning, but I’m free after nine.”

“Perfect. How about a late dinner?”

You smiled. “Like a date?”

He chuckled. “Of course.” His phone went off right when he was about to kiss you and he groaned because as much as he’d prefer spending time with you, he did have obligations to get to. “Hello?”

“Chris!” His managers voice boomed. “Where the hell have you been! Have you seen Twitter today?”

“No, I just woke up,” he said with a frown on his face. You looked up at him noticing the change in his tone.

“Well, you’re trending. They posted the interview online and fans are going insane.”

“What?” He said. “Hold on let me look.”

It wasn’t just him trending on Twitter. So were you. Together. He shook you so you could look before clicking on the thread.

Damn Chris was looking at her like she was a whole meal.

And at that moment Chris Jamal Evans was ready to risk it all

He over here just eye fucking her

There were a lot. Plus, all the memes people had posted. He hadn’t realized he made it that obvious. You started giggling not being able to stop yourself as he scrolled. “Wait is that her? Is she there?” The faint voice of his manager came through the phone.

“I gotta call you back,” he said before hanging up. “I am so sorry.”

You were still laughing as you grabbed your own phone so you could read through more. “It’s okay. Just glad I didn’t make it obvious that I was doing the same.”

“I knew it!” He laughed before tickling your side.

You tried to push his hand away and all that lead to was a wrestling match where he pinned you down. “Daddy!” You squealed which again music to his ears.

You struggled against him until you finally broke your hand away so you could reach forward to grab at his dick that seemed to awaken immediately under your touch. “That’s cheating!” He protested with a laugh.

“All’s fair in love and war.”

“You better not start something you can’t finish.”

You smirked. “Oh, I can finish it.”

“You know, I can afford to take the day off,” he noted realizing he was not letting you out of this bed anytime soon.

“Me, too.”

He leaned forward capturing your lips with his. Not even caring about morning breath. Just needing to feel you. As he turned you over so he could fuck you from behind he realized that it was true. He was ready to risk it all for you.

And it was pretty funny to watch you laugh at all the memes afterwards.

#chris evans smut #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x reader #daddy!chris evans

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imagineyourworld-old · 3 years

Text

Cuddles

Rex x Fem!Jedi!Reader

Summary: You are extremely affectionate with everyone but Rex and even though the Captain knows why it bothers him, he refuses to acknowledge his feelings

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, mentions of sex

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It wasn’t unusual for the Jedi to send additional healers on dangerous or very long missions. Nor was it unusual for said healers to be Jedi, not only could their force sensitivity help them locate, and to a certain degree heal, even the toughest injuries, they could also help out in battle when needed. And so no one was surprised when you were send along with the 501st on a mission to the outer rim.

-------

“Have you seen General Skywalker? I have a few questions regarding his plans for tomorrow”, Rex asked Ahsoka.

The Padawan looked up from her datapad to point down the corridor.

“I think he wanted a quiet place to work.”

The way Ahsoka said the word made Rex second guess whether the General was actually working or talking to his not-so-secret wife. And even though he didn’t want to interrupt him, he knew how important time with loved ones was the night before a big battle, he really needed his questions answered.

“Thanks.”

Ahsoka smiled at him before turning back to her datapad.

-------

Rex opened and closed a few doors in vain.

Finally he opened the last door of the long corridor and found the General sitting on a blanket he had laid on the floor. But he was not alone.

Rex was surprised that Anakin actually seemed to be working, he had a datapad in his hand and another laying next to him, but that wasn’t what caught the Captain's attention.

You were with the General. Your head was in Anakin’s lap and one of his hands was stroking your hair, which had gotten loose from your bun and was now covering part of your face. Your closed eyes and deep breaths told Rex that you were fast asleep. But instead of thinking how relaxed you looked when sleeping, when for once you didn’t have the weight of protecting the galaxy on your shoulders, he felt as if someone had just shot him right in the chest.

“Rex, is something the matter?”

The Captain tore his eyes away from you to look at Anakin. He tried his best to be professional, not to let a blush rise to his cheeks or his feelings show.

“I have a few questions about tomorrow.”

Anakin nodded. Although both men spoke in quiet voices and the General moved only slightly you began to stir and opened your eyes a moment later.

Being a trained Jedi it took you less than a second to remember where you were and who you were with. Slowly you sat up and looked from Rex to Anakin and back again.

“Hello, Captain”, you said with a soft smile.

And no matter how hard he tried, heat now crept up to his cheeks.

“I am sorry for waking you.”

You shook your head, still smiling.

“Nonsense, I shouldn’t have fallen asleep anyway.”

You looked at Anakin again, who had been watching your interaction with great interest.

“I’ll leave you two alone and get back to work then.”

The Jedi nodded, a smile now gracing his lips as well.

Never in his life had Rex felt as out of place as he did in that very moment. This was a private interaction and he had no business witnessing the smiles the two of you gave each other, nor the loving expression in your eyes. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away, not even when you pressed a gentle kiss to Anakin’s cheek before grabbing the second datapad from the floor.

Rex stepped out of the door to let you pass, careful to put a bit of space between your bodies. But even the few feet between you didn’t stop him from smelling your sweet perfume. Where Jedi could get perfume in the middle of a war was beyond him, but he had come to love every whiff of the scent he got. Though now, more than ever, he knew he shouldn’t. He knew you weren’t his and would never be.

“I’ll see you around, Rex”, you said. And for a moment, just for a short moment, Rex thought you might reach out to him. He braced himself for the touch, but it never came. Instead you smiled before closing the door behind you.

Usually he tried his best to be respectful to General Skywalker and any other Jedi, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Does she know about Senator Amidala?”

Anakin got up from his spot on the floor and looked at Rex with raised eyebrows.

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

Try as he might, Rex couldn’t keep the anger out of his tone.

“Does (Y/N) - I mean General (Y/L/N), of course - does she know you are married to Senator Amidala?”

Anakin stepped closer to Rex. The Captain couldn’t quite read his expression.

“(Y/N)”, he said your name in a way that made it very clear he had noticed Rex’s slip earlier. “Does not know about Padmé.”

“Do you think it’s fair then, to lead her on like this?”

The Jedi looked at Rex for a moment before answering.

“I am not leading her on, I wouldn’t do that. (Y/N) is a friend, she knows it as well as I do.”

Relief flooded over Rex. He had to admit, it wasn’t like General Skywalker to lead someone on, and much less like him to cheat on his wife, but to see the two of you so close made him question everything he though he knew about your relationship.

“Rex, I hope you know that you can be honest with me about... well, you and (Y/N).”

The blond took a step back, then another, until his back hit the wall behind him.

“I don’t know what you’re implying. There is no me and (Y/N) - General (Y/L/N), I mean.”

Even though Rex tried to sound convincing a smirk played on Anakin’s lips.

“Of course, Captain. Of course.”

The next couple of days his conversation with Anakin kept replaying in Rex’s head. It kept him from sleeping, haunted his dreams and even distracted him on the battlefield. So much so that it he let a blaster strike his shoulder and was send to the med bay, where he ran right into you.

“Captain, I heard what happened”, you greeted him. “Let me have a look at that shoulder and we’ll get it as good as new again.”

You reached out a hand to his injured shoulder, but without thinking Rex stepped out of the way.

“I’m fine. There are others who need your help more than I do.”

You let your hand fall as your eyebrows knitted together in worry.

“You are my last patient for today, everyone else is already taken care of. Now let me help you, I can see you’re in pain.”

And no matter how much his head protested, his heart made him nod in agreement.

He followed you to one of the few beds that were not occupied and sat down as you gathered any supplies you might need.

“I must admit, it is not like you to get hit”, you said while you opened and closed drawers.

Rex just shrugged. It wasn’t as if he could tell you that he had been distracted because he was jealous of your relationship with Anakin or, worse, that he suspected the General knew about his feelings for you.

You finally finished and turned to Rex.

“You’ll need to take your armor off. And your shirt as well. Even I can’t heal you without actually seeing the wound.”

Once again Rex found himself trying not to blush. He hurried to do as you told him and just a few seconds later he was shirtless.

You moved closer, so close, that he could feel your body heat, even through your robes, and smell your perfume, though now there was also a hint of sweat beneath the sweet scent.

You laid a soft hand on his shoulder, careful not to touch the wound but Rex tensed nonetheless.

“Does it hurt?”, you asked softly.

He shook his head. It didn’t hurt, at least not on his shoulder. But he felt as if his heart was being ripped apart by being so close to you, but not close enough, never close enough.

“It looks worse than it is”, you mumbled more to yourself than Rex. He felt something cold, probably a bit of bacta spray, hitting the wound and a warm, tingly feeling a moment later. Your soft fingers danced over the now closed wound as you applied a bit of salve before placing a plaster on top.

“That should do the trick.”

You stepped back and for a moment Rex could have sworn you were looking up and down his unclad upper half, with a look in your eyes that didn’t speak of medical professionalism. But surely he had to be imagining that, you had spend most of the day patching up his brothers, clones that looked just like him, you had no reason to be checking him out.

“How are you, Rex?”

For the first time in what felt like an eternity he met your eyes. A look of concern was in them, along with a softness he didn’t even know he needed after the rough day he’d had.

“I’m fine.”

With a sigh you sat down next to him just as Rex put his shirt back on. You were careful to keep space between you, but once again Rex could swear he felt heat radiating off of you.

“We both know you’re lying.”

That, right there, was one of the things Rex loved most about you. Others pretended to care or said nice words solely to motivate him in his fight for the republic, but you cared. You seemed to love the 501st like family, more than a Jedi was probably supposed to. And not just Ahsoka and Anakin, the clones as well. You never made any of them feel like they were worth less, you made them feel loved and like they belonged.

“Can you tell because of the force?”, he tried to joke. You, however, remained serious.

“I can tell because I know you. And I know you’ve not been yourself lately. What’s going on?”

He looked down at your hand that has found its way to his thigh. The second his eyes landed on it you removed it and even though he knew it wasn’t possible, Rex thought he could see your cheeks darkening a bit.

“I’ve just been thinking about something General Skywalker recently said. About... me and a girl, a woman. He thinks there’s something going on between us, but that’s rubbish.”

Your eyes glazed over with something that almost looked like sadness, but it might as well have been confusion or just understanding. No matter what you were feeling, you gave Rex a small smile.

“Why would you say that?”

He thought about how he should answer your question honestly without giving away that he was talking about you.

“She’s not really supposed to be in a relationship, due to her... religion. And besides, she’s way too good for me. She’s kind and funny and caring and the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid my eyes upon. And I’m just... well, I mean, why should she choose me even if she could?”

Rex tried his best to avoid your eyes and instead opted for looking at the floor. He knew that you would figure out who he was talking about the moment he looked at you.

You didn’t say anything for a while and Rex almost worried he had scared you away. Perhaps you did know he was talking about you, perhaps you were disappointed or mad or even disgusted.

“Oh Rex”, you finally said. He felt your light touch on the small of his back before your fingers disappeared again, leaving behind a cold that was not there before.

“Anyone would be lucky to have you, and I do mean anyone. You’re all those things you said she is. You’re one of the kindest men I know, you’re funny in your own way, you care so much about your brother, about Anakin and Ahsoka and about me, I hope.”

You stopped for a moment.

“And you’re beautiful as well. Sure, you may look like your brothers, but there is an inner beauty in you as well. You’re one of a kind and anyone who can’t see that doesn’t deserve you anyway.”

Rex couldn’t help himself, after your kind words he just had to look at you. Tears were shining in your eyes and a smile was on your lips.

It took Rex all the courage he had to lay his hand on top of yours, but the way you gripped it tight and stroked it with your thumb made up for the nerves.

“Thank you, (Y/N). That means a lot to me.”

The interaction in the med bay stayed with Rex for weeks on end. He though of it when he needed something to distract him from all the horrors he saw on a daily basis or when he needed to escape from his brothers or General Skywalker for a while. But mostly when he needed to remind himself why he was fighting this war, who he was trying to protect.

“Rex, are you with us?”, General Skywalker asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Yes, Sir.”

Rex could hear Fives snickering behind him, but he could easily ignore it. Especially when you were standing just a few meters away in between Anakin and Ahsoka.

It was late and General Skywalker was just recapping the latest mission to General Kenobi over the holo. And while Rex did listen with one ear, most of his attention of on you.

Everyone was tired, but you seemed especially so, maybe because using the force to heal the clones, and Anakin as well because he couldn’t go a single battle without an unnecessary injury, took its toll on you. You had one arm around Ahsoka and your head rested on her shoulder as you nodded along with Anakin’s report. It seemed as if you were half asleep in your friend’s embrace, which reminded Rex of the time he had found you sleeping in the General’s lap. Your exhaustion was obvious and all Rex wanted to do that very moment was to wrap you up in a blanket and have you fall asleep in his arms, to make sure no harm could come to you in your most defenseless state.

“Thank you, Anakin. Now everyone get some sleep, especially you, (Y/N)”, Obi-Wan finally said before ending the holo.

Anakin repeated the words to the clones and added that they would have a rare day off tomorrow. He then turned towards the other two Jedi and said something to them in a low voice. You just nodded along, though Rex was sure you were too sleepy to really understand what the General was saying.

“Rex”, Echo said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Are you coming or are you gonna keep staring at General (Y/L/N)?”

The Captain turned to his brother, making sure no one had overheard what he’d just said.

“I am not staring. I’m just concerned, she should get some sleep.”

“And you wanna take her to bed?”, Fives chimed in, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Shut up”, Echo said before Rex could.

He couldn’t deny Fives’ words, but right now all he wanted was for you to get a good night’s sleep.

Rex moved his brothers along towards their quarters. But he couldn’t resist to look at you one last time before the door closed behind him.

You and Ahsoka were now in a full embrace and he saw her gently kissing the top of your head. Once again he felt the pang of jealousy at how close you were to anyone but him, how everyone else constantly seemed to be touching or hugging or kissing you and he was too nervous to make any kind of skin to skin contact last longer than half a second.

Anakin stayed true to his word, so the next day the 501st found themselves on some small tropical planet with lush forests, golden sand and a clear blue sea. Everyone was in a good mood, swimming in the cool water, laying in the sun or getting caught up in some shenanigans Rex didn’t bother investigating. Almost everyone that was, General Skywalker seemed miserable. He was sitting under a tall tree on the edge of the beach, careful to stay on the grass and not to touch the sand. Rex had heard rumors that Anakin hated sand more than any separatist, but part of him though that he was just sad there wasn’t enough time off to visit his wife.

“C’mon, Skyguy, you’re missing out on all the fun”, Ahsoka shouted at her master from the edge of the water. A smile made its way to Rex’s lips at how hard she was trying to get everyone to enjoy the day. The smile only grew when his eyes landed on you. You were right next to the Padawan in as little clothing as Rex had ever seen you in. Compared to what many other women wore to the beach it was still incredibly modest, though he supposed Jedi didn’t really own bikinis. Instead you wore a pair of shorts that cut up in the middle of your thigh and a top that showed just a little bit of your stomach and more of your cleavage than he had ever seen. Rex tried his hardest not to stare, he really did, but his eyes were just drawn to your figure.

“I don’t think there’s anything in the Jedi code that forbids sex, just relationships”, Fives said.

Rex hadn’t even noticed his brother sitting down next to him. But he did make an active choice not to reply.

“I think she’d say yes if you asked. Of course you’d have to get over your nerves first”, Fives continued.

This time Rex was about to answer when the sound of your laughter interrupted him. You were surrounded by four of his brothers, all of them stripped down to the trousers of their blacks, who were splashing you with water and tickling you. Another couple troopers were chasing after Ahsoka, probably trying to give her the same treatment, but Rex only had eyes for you.

He knew both Anakin and Ahsoka saw you as a friend, nothing more than a close friend, but he hated that he couldn’t say the same for his brothers. Of course he knew they weren’t trying to anger him, most of them had hopefully not even noticed his attachment to you, but he couldn’t help jealousy rising up in him.

He finally turned back to Fives.

“Did you give them the same speech?”

By now you were no longer playfighting with the clones, instead you had your arms around two of them and watched the others chasing Ahsoka.

“It’s not my fault you get jealous so easily. All I’m saying is that you should talk to her. The worst that could happen is that things stay the same, but maybe if you got laid you’d loosen up every once in a while. And I’m sure she’d be great. Don’t they say the once who seem innocent are the best in bed?”

Sometimes Rex didn’t need words, sometimes a single glare could make even Fives shut his mouth.

For the rest of the day Rex tried to keep his distance from you. With the sun shining in your eyes, a relaxed smile on your lips and more skin than usually showing he didn’t trust himself not to say something he might regret.

It wasn’t until the evening that he saw you again.

Rex walked into the sleeping quarters he shared with his brother, he wanted to get a fresh set of blacks to change into after his shower, but once again he opened a door only to find you curled up next to someone. This time it was Echo and Fives. Each of you was holding a datapad, you and Echo seemed to be reading while Fives was apparently watching some holovideo. You sat in between Echo’s legs, leaning against him with your back pressed to his chest and Fives head was laying in your lap.

After staring at you for a moment Rex decided to make his presence known.

“I hope I’m not interrupting”, he said and could have slapped himself a moment later. Of all the things he could have said, that’s what he had to settle on.

All of you looked up from your respective holopads and Fives even sat up from his place on your lap.

“Rex, I mean Captain, I mean Captain Rex”, you stuttered and this time not even Rex could deny that you were blushing. “You’re not interrupting, at all. In fact, you can join us if you’d like.”

If it weren’t for his brothers Rex would have agreed. He would have ignored how nervous your mere presence made him and how much he shouldn’t want to be near you, but instead he turned around and walked right of the door.

It wasn’t until he was halfway across the ship that he realized that he hadn’t even given you an answer.

Rex hated to admit it, but he missed you terribly. Ever since that day off he barely saw you and when he did you wouldn’t meet his eyes. Even that one time he was send to the med bay you didn’t go near him and Kix took care of his injuries instead. The worst part was that Rex knew it was his fault. No matter how often he told himself that it was for the better, that the two of you would never have worked out, he couldn’t stop the guilt. If he had just acted normal, not so cold, around you you might at least be friends.

It was especially bad when he walked into the med bay after another battle, expecting to at least see you from a distance. Instead he was met with Kix mumbling under his breath and med droids going about their business.

Most of the beds were empty but Rex stepped closer to the ones that were occupied to see which of his brothers were injured and how they were feeling. Just as he made his way to the last bed Kix stepped in front of him.

“Can you take care of her for a moment? General Skywalker is waiting for me to report on the injured and the droids should clean up while I’m gone.”

Rex tried to sneak a peek over his brothers shoulder.

“Is Ahsoka injured? What happened?”

Kix’s face softened as he put a gentle hand on Rex’s shoulder.

“It’s (Y/N)”, he told him.

Within a second Rex was at your bed. You were paler than he’d like, eyes closed in a fitful sleep, hair a mess on the pillow.

“What happened?”

Rex hated how broken his voice sounded, but he hated it even more that he hadn’t even known you were injured, let alone unconscious. How could he not have known? Had he been so focused on keeping his distance or was it because you were avoiding him?

“The General put her in battle last minute, to watch our backs. But no one was watching her’s, she got shot right in the stomach and barely pulled through.”

For a short moment Rex allowed himself to touch your shoulder. You were colder than usual, colder than you were supposed to be.

“I’ll be back soon, all you need to do is stay close in case she wakes up. I simply don’t want her to wake up alone.”

When Kix kissed your forehead none of Rex’s usual jealousy appeared. Maybe it was because Kix, who you spend most of your days with, was like a brother to you, or maybe he finally learned that he had no reason to be jealous.

For a while Rex just stood there and watched you. From time to time his gaze wandered over to the monitor next to your bed that was recording your heartbeat and blood pressure and other medical necessities.

The next time he turned his eyes back to you your own were slowly opening.

“What happened? Where am - Rex? Rex, what are you doing here?”

He didn’t know whether it was the sound of your voice, which told him you were alright more than any machine counting your heartbeat ever could, or the way you said his name, but tears appeared in the corners of his eyes.

“You’re okay. Oh stars, you’re okay.”

He leaned down to brush a strand of hair out of your face. You smiled at him, slowly the colour was returning to your cheeks and a moment later you used the little controller to sit up in your bed.

“I’m more than okay.”

And just like that Rex’s heart stopped for a beat.

“(Y/N), I owe you an apology. I know I’ve been distant and I just want you to know that it’s not your fault. It’s me, I just -”

“I know”, you interrupted him, the smile on your lips turning a bit sadder. “You feel forced by me and you’re right, I should try to keep my distance and that’s what I’ve been trying to do but -”

You stopped and looked around the room.

“Is everyone else asleep?”

Rex was confused, but he nodded. The injured clones had been put to sleep to really recover from their injuries.

“I’ve been trying to keep my distance, but it breaks me. I like cuddling with Anakin, I like when Ahsoka kisses my forehead, I like being hugged by your brothers, but a little brush of your fingers sets off fireworks in me. And I know you don’t like being touched, but touch is my love language. I want the people I love close to me, I want to be touching and hugging and kissing them.”

By now there was not only colour in your cheeks, you were blushing furiously. You lifted a hand to run it through your hair and tried to watch Rex only out of the corner of your eye.

“You don’t have to say anything, I just wanted you to know.”

But you had interpreted Rex’s silence wrong, he wasn’t offended, he was stunned.

“You - You love me?”

He didn’t think it was possible, but you blushed even deeper.

“You really don’t have to say anything, we can still be friends. The last thing I want is to push something on you you don’t want, whether it is a touch or a kiss or even a secret relationship, because I know those can be though. But you deserve to know how I feel about you.”

Before you could say anything else Rex was leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. At first you were too shocked to respond, but you soon melted into the kiss, into his hand on your cheek and the other on your hip. You moved your arms around his neck to pull him even closer.

When you finally let go to catch your breath Rex leaned his forehead against yours.

“I love being touched by you, I love you. But every single touch made me nervous and happy and confused, but every slight brush of fingers was all I thought about for days. And that time in the med bay, when I had injured my shoulder, was like a dream come true.”

You smiled up at Rex, a smile bigger than any he’d seen on you before.

“Can you say that again?”

He mirrored your smile.

“Which part?”

You pecked his lips in a loving kiss.

“You know which part.”

“I love you.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

“I love you.”

Another kiss.

“I love you too.”

And another kiss.

“I won”, Ahsoka announced with a smile.

Both Anakin and Fives shook their heads.

“No way, he kissed her first!”, the Jedi protested.

“But she did say I love you first”, Kix chimed in.

“Technically Rex said the words first”, Echo added, which earned him eye rolls from the others.

“How about we just make a new bet to see when they tell us they’re together”, Kix suggested.

“I bet you five credits (Y/N) is gonna tell me within a week”, Anakin said with a knowing smirk.

Ahsoksa shook her head. “No way, she’s gonna tell me first. Ten credits.”

Her master smiled.

“Deal!”

#captain rex #captain rex imagine #captain rex x you #captain rex x y/n #captain rex x reader #star wars imagine #star wars self insert #star wars the clone wars #clone wars imagine #clone wars

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jadelynlace · 3 years

Text

divine / Modern Ivar One Shot [Modern Ivar x F!Reader]

requested by: anonymous ask, and you can find it here.

“Ivar in a wheelchair (not complete useless legs, but you know, the usual that comes with his disease) has after a loooong time found a girlfriend and they're super happy but also a bit insecure about their first time together because of him being in a wheelchair and stuff. Both being shy but also super eager to finally sleep with each other.”

author’s note: I certainly tried my best with this, but as someone who is not disabled, or has any experience with such, I do apologize if I was unable to capture the essence of being in a wheelchair. in other words: it’s freaking terrible writing and I’m sorry. just above 1,000 words.

pairing: Modern Ivar x F!Reader

content warning: mentions of disability, Ivar’s insecurities and sex.

request are open!

✎

It took time, trials and fails, errors and patience. Even longer for Ivar to be more than shirtless around you; be more than covered. There wasn’t a part of him you didn’t know, inside and out, but he still never let you see his legs. No trust in himself or even in you not to laugh, not to pity, not to do what everyone else in his life had done; defining him by the one thing that didn’t make him who he is.

He was the last of his brothers to find love, it left him bitter watching them have families. Explaining why Uncle Ivar was in the wheel chair, using the crutches. He locked himself in a glass tower and he didn’t want to shatter his way out. And then he met you. Through luck, or the crossing of stars, the Gods answering his lonely prayers, he didn’t care to think what it may have been but you were in his life and there was a glimmer of happiness for the first time. Because you accepted him; even with the metal wheels that rolled with him.

You loved his arms, rippled and muscular and strong as he pushed himself, wrapping around you for embraces, always lingering on your body in some way. You never pushed him to do more than what he was comfortable but it was nagging at him—you could have anyone but you chose the crippled man in the wheelchair. You hated when he said that. And even you asking him if he wanted you like that, never seemed to dull the sharp end of this mental spear that you would laugh. Tease and ridicule him like everyone else.

Candles were burning when you came out of the bathroom. Ivar was sitting in the bed with eyes not unlike a young canine. He had the whisper of a smile on his mouth when he saw you. Dawned in a softly colored nightgown, laced details and silk to touch as you walked over to him.

“We’ll go slowly, and if you want to stop, tell me,” You tell him softly, hands molding the muscles in his chest as you lean down to kiss him. All Ivar can do is nod, voice lost and swamped as you crawl over him. You take his lap like a throne and you’re his queen, straddling him and there’s a gasp from Ivar as you sit on him. The soft smile graces your lips as you lean closer to him, catching his mouth with yours and you wait for his hands to take to their journey. Soft touches on even softer skin as Ivar’s fingers trace you, your body a hidden language, ancient or dead but he still knows it fluently. A gasp catches his ears when his hands grab your chest, squeezing softly and you feel how he grows from arousal below you. Rocking your hips on him and he can only give you heavy breaths as they pass through his chest.

With his lips on your neck you moan, a sinful noise that takes up space in his ears and Ivar grows needy to hear is again, fingers dancing along your spine, squeezing where your ass swells and leaving no part untraced. His eyes grow twice as you’re bare before him, even though he’s seen it, this time you’re even more beautiful, more angelic and he’s growing excited to have you in such a raw way. He swallows thickly as you move from him, slipping his cock free and he groans as the cooler air hits him. You’re salivating at the sight of him, long and thick in your hands and he’s looking down at you like it’s a dream. One too pleasant that he doesn’t want to wake up from, but your lips wrap around him and his mind goes blank. Utter nothingness as pleasure blooms through him while you sink down, swallowing around him and you hum as you pull away, slowly jerking him and his mouth his open. Dropped silly with a heaving chest and you check in on him and he nods, crawling back to his level with a mouth that’s rushed against his.

Ivar’s eyes stay locked on yours as you sink down on him, a low guttural moan ringing from him as you seat him fully inside of you and his head tips back against the headboard. You giggle some as he does, hands gripping your hips and you squeeze your walls around him to get him to look at you.

“Still alright?” You say softly and he nods. Through little flicks of your hips you work him, leaving no noise unsung as he stretches you, a delicious pleasure spreading and your thighs start to shake on each side of him. His thumb presses through yours folds as he rolls it against your bundle of nerves, watching how your body responds from his touch, and his touch alone and he feels the creeping of his first orgasm with you come closer. He doesn’t want it to end, the motions where you two are connected as he bares his soul on the floor for you to collect, putting his heart on a platter and you protect it, keep it like it’s your own and he’s falling for you. Ivar’s lips crush against yours as he tells you that he’s close, that he wants you to come with him and you can’t deny him that. Rolling your hips as you ride him and his fingers dance with your womanhood and he finally groans, shuddering as his arms are around you as he spills inside of you. Your own end right there as you fall with him, lips stilled but connected and in the first heavy seconds as the two of you come down you’re connected more than where your bodies meet. Hearts behind ribs beating for one another.

“Thank you,” Ivar whispers in your ear and you can only nod against his head. Tears in your lash line as he worships your body, the very ground you walk on as a high heaven he’ll never want to leave. Because you are there, and you are his.

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missorgana · 3 years

Text

words hung above, but never would form

pairing: bucky barnes/sam wilson

fandom: mcu, what if...?

rating: mature

word count: 3500

warning: swearing, alcohol, major character death, blood, guns

summary: What might've happened after the zombie apocalypse broke out, before the last team of heroes was formed, and how Bucky Barnes lost Sam Wilson. (pre-canon fic to what if... zombies!?)

(a few days ago i posted this very painful angst fic i thought of after the zombies episode of what if...? so here i am dropping it on tumblr as well!! i apologise, please know that it broke my heart to write this. uhm. that’s all!)

read on ao3

It’s been three months since they lost Steve.

Well, since the world lost most of the Avengers, really. And since the world lost most of its, uh, regular people anyway.

It’s a dark world full of shit and blood and brains out there now, yet Bucky’s taking his cold shower in the morning and cannot bring himself to care much. Sounds harsh, he knows.

He knew nothing of this new world and new time except his best friend, so of fucking course, Steve being… not Steve made him feel like there was no fucking point to anything. If the Avengers couldn’t beat this zombie virus? Yeah, there’s no hope for humanity anymore.

Except… except the man who greets him in the morning, handing him a plate of pancakes without even asking if he wanted some and pinning yet another red pin on their vastly growing map of ghost towns. Those are fully infected spots, by the way. Nothing left but the undead. The map is turning overwhelmingly red overwhelmingly fast.

The man hovering at said map also hands him his coffee, puts on one of the records from their LP stash, and smiles his sunny, stupid grin before ruffling Bucky’s hair and telling him he missed a spot.

Yeah, the world’s become even more of a dog eat dog world than before.

But Bucky Barnes’ got Sam Wilson. And nothing else matters.

It’s ironic really, that when he’s gotten out of cryo, that he’s finally rid of the Hydra programming and torture and pain he’s endured for years, and at the same time, someone somewhere got bitten and humanity’s become a walking all you can eat buffet. Perfect timing.

Of course, Steve’s never fled from a fight in his life, so honestly? Bucky can’t exactly say he’s surprised. He is- sorry, was an Avenger after all. The little shit.

What does surprise him, however, is finding himself growing closer to Sam, Steve’s friend who for some reason, somehow, was just as intent on finding him as Steve was. And… helping him. Saving him.

Bucky never understood why. He still doesn’t. He hates himself for everything they made him do, he’ll probably continue hating himself for as long as he lives, no matter how much he tries to suppress it, but Sam doesn’t.

Sam fought for him, fought with him, visited him in Wakanda and took him back to a somewhat normal life before… you know. Now they’ve found a safehouse after losing everyone they had, except each other, and they’ve zombie-proofed to the best of their ability.

And life with Sam, well, Bucky could get used to it. In fact, he gets used to it very quickly.

Sam smiles so easily at him and doesn’t look at him like he’s a broken man who needs to be fixed. Sam doesn’t look at him with resentment, or pity, he just… looks at him.

It’s hard to explain.

Thing is, nothing makes sense. The violence that keeps on going and going doesn’t make sense, Bucky losing his best friend in the world doesn’t make sense, the streets being abandoned and houses vacant and survival being a constant factor in life now doesn’t make sense.

But the man he’s hiding out with makes sense. He makes so much sense. The only thing that makes sense anymore.

His existence is constant, he’s there for him when he lets him and when he doesn’t, he gives him space. The shorter man is as if the sun was living and breathing, and himself, well, he’s the moon. He’s just trying to stay in Sam's orbit.

Chasing after him. Circulating. Bashing in everything he’s willing to give him.

The scruffy beard he’s let grow, and him humming to himself while he’s working on Redwing, and the wheezing, carefree laugh he can’t stop when Bucky suggests they watch a zombie movie one night. He tells Sam not to overwork himself and he promises not to, and the other man tells him to let him know what’s going on in his head, and hell, Bucky tells him. He tells him everything.

In fact, it’s the same night they do watch a zombie movie, frequently pointing out the inaccuracies and turning it into a drinking game with the terrible, terrible booze they swiped from the supermarket, that he looks at the short haired man dozing off on his shoulder and realises that this is the most peace he’s ever had.

It’s basically an apocalypse outside, but Bucky can’t get himself to look away from Sam’s eyelashes fluttering lightly as he slips off to sleep.

Their legs are tangled into each other on the coffee table, the microwave popcorn long abandoned, one of his friend’s hands resting on his thigh.

His beard scratches his shoulder, but he doesn’t mind. Sam has asked him if he should shave it several times, but God no, never. That beard’s been doing a lot of things to him - all good, of course.

He turns down the volume a bit. Sam looks peaceful. He hasn’t been sleeping much, he knows neither of them have, and where’s the time for it, anyway? He’s glad he is now.

Bucky can’t get himself to move, fearing waking the short haired man from his slumber, and for a minute, the outside world is far, far away from their reality.

Sam looks incredibly soft in that ripped sweater and sweatpants and the snore he lets out is no less than adorable.

It’s like- he looks at this man, and suddenly it’s like everything just falls back into place.

He looks soft in the morning over breakfast and hazy eyes, soft in the evening when he says goodnight, soft when he’s clutching the photos of his nephews (AJ and Cass were their names, he’s learned), soft when he’s retelling a memory with his parents on the family boat, soft when they both muse about Steve and his dumb shenanigans.

He looks something entirely different when he’s shirtless out of the shower and tiny droplets still fall down his chest and abs and Bucky struggles to breathe, every damn time. He only realises now why that is.

Sam is like a sunset, because Bucky wants nothing more than to wake up to this man and nothing else every day, till the end of time. What more could he wish for?

He’s beautiful. Bucky doesn’t think he’s called anyone, or anything beautiful before.

Looking back, he can’t see anymore how they could argue and bicker and annoy each other, and doesn't understand why. He’s wasted so much fucking time doing that. Not anymore. He could never go back to that, it would most likely kill him. Steve would be thrilled if he could see them now, wouldn't he?

And while this realization dawns upon him, washing over him like the biggest wave you could possibly imagine, he wonders if Sam feels the same when he looks at him.

Does he feel safe falling asleep on his shoulder like this? Does he find everlasting comfort in his smile like he does in his, does he wake up hoping and praying to see his smile, just once? Does he do everything he can think of to make him look at him, like he tries every single day?

He can only dream.

Huh. So this is what it’s like to be in love. Bucky doesn’t hate it.

It’s only a month after his life-changing realization of the sort that couldn't make him concentrate on everything else, that Bucky decides today is the day. He’s going to confess his feelings for his friend.

And this is something in the middle of chaos, something he’s never experienced before. He’d never thought he’d practice his words in the mirror like a nervous teenager, but alas.

Sam Wilson, I’m in love with you. No. No, it’s too short. Think, James. What does he make you feel?

Sam, you’re the last thing I think about when I go to sleep and the first thing I think about when I wake up. Sam, I want to see you smile every day. Sam, I want to make you happy… as happy, as… happy as you make me.

Too long? Shit.

Sam, you’re the only good in this piece of shit world. I love you. Sam hates when he’s that pessimistic, though, and always tells him to cheer up, even in the middle of a zombie invasion. Another reason why he loves him.

Sam, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Nothing I wouldn't do to see you happy. I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy.

His stream of thought is interrupted by faint clanging in the kitchen of their safehouse. Bucky sighs. He’s not sure this is going to be perfect, he wants it to be.

He has to go, he has to try. Now or never.

Except… the smile he’s come to anticipate every single morning isn’t there to meet him. Instead, he sees Sam suited up, wing pack on his back, gloves on, looking through one of their many folders they’ve filled up with theories of the infection and safe spots and danger zones and everything else.

Bucky frowns, looks at him in silence for a moment. Maybe he’ll try a joke, “Going somewhere?”

His friend hums without looking, “I’m going to catch Steve.”

Sorry, what? What the fuck?

Sam did not just say what he thinks he said. He didn’t. He couldn’t have.

This is why he blinks in disbelief, for the first time rendered speechless by the other man. Sam looks up at him, face glazed over by determination and confusion by his own reaction, most like. Then, worry overtakes his usually warm, deep brown eyes, ones that he could drown himself in and never come out of.

“You okay, Bucky?” he asks, and Bucky clenches his jaw.

“You’re going to… catch him,” he says, a statement rather than a question. It’s Sam’s turn to frown, but he nods.

“Yes. Catch him and bring him back.”

“You’re joking,” he laughs in sheer denial, but the seriousness in his friend’s face is scaring him, “Sam… tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

Oh, this is just not happening. This world lets him fall in love with the most perfect person he knows and then lets that very same person be so fucking stupid?

Bucky can’t let him go. Bucky can’t lose him.

“What, then?” he asks, one hand on his hip, “Invite him over and let him eat our brains, just like that?”

“ Bucky. We’re going to catch him, and then we’ll cure him.”

He laughs, loudly. Okay, this is just hilarious. Sam Wilson is the most perfect person in this world exactly because of this- because he believes this world is still able to be saved. Because he believes it’s worth saving . Fucking hell.

“You found a cure you’re not telling me about?”

Sam sighs, scratching his chin, “Come on, Buck. I talked to Hope-”

“Who?”

“Hope Van Dyne. The Wasp,” the shorter man explains, “She lost her parents, and Scott Lang, remember?”

Bucky shrugs, but nods.

“Well, she’s been recruiting those of us who survived. Who’s left. And she thinks there might be a way to reverse the virus, her father brought it from the, uh… Quantum Realm.” Sam’s about to hand him one of the folders, but he crosses his arms, and shakes his head, then.

God, Bucky’s well aware how stubborn he is. Sam has told him plenty of times.

But he’ll be damned if he lets the man go just like that. He’s not letting him get hurt.

“That’s not happening,” he says shortly. His friend’s frown deepens.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re not going after that thing.”

The man turns to him completely, wide-eyed and shock written all over his features. “ That thing? ” he huffs, “That thing is our friend.”

“Not anymore, Sam. I’m not letting you get yourself killed by the undead.”

“He’s not dead,” Sam says. His voice raised. He looks- he doesn't look soft anymore. There’s no trace of that smile that gives Bucky shivers down his spine. He looks… upset. He’s upset. Fucking shit.

Why can’t he- fuck , can he not try to be a fucking hero right now? That’s why Steve’s gone. Why can’t he see that?

“You’re being irrational,” Bucky tells him, feeling the anger rise within him, this is not how it was supposed to go, stay with me-

“Oh, I’m being irrational?” Sam laughs, sarcasm evident in his voice, “There might be a cure. We might get Steve back, Buck. And I can take care of myself, you know.”

“I know, but-”

“But, what?” he sighs, again. The irritation is flowing between them, Bucky’s freaking out, and above all, Sam looks… he looks disappointed.

This is the worst he’s felt in his whole fucking life. He can’t disappoint the only person that matters to him. Yet he did.

“What if Hope’s wrong, Sam? It’s pointless, most of the population’s infected anyway, it would take forever to get everyone-”

“You’ve got that little faith in me?”

No. No no no. Sam, no. I love you. I love you so much it pains me to see you like this, I never meant to hurt you, I didn’t-

“We’ve lost too many, Sam!” he finds himself yelling, none of the words scrambled in his brain making it out. He’s the most stupid of them, obviously, not that he wasn’t aware. “I know you believe these people can be saved, and your hope is incredible, but can you please… not go?”

“I’m an Avenger, Bucky. It’s what I do. It’s what Steve did.”

“It’s what got Steve turned.”

This seems to be something Sam has to ponder over, because a rather uncomfortable silence settles between them. His friend’s eyes soften somewhat, but his teeth are still gritted, as are his own. Would be inappropriate to confess his undying love to the other man now, wouldn’t it?

“I do believe they can be saved,” his friend eventually speaks up, “I believe that because I need to. I lost my parents, Sarah, Steve, Natasha. I have to try.”

See, that makes sense. Another reason why Bucky fucking loves him and wants to kiss his stupid fucking face and beg him not to go. But he doesn’t.

“It’s too risky, Sam, it’s not safe.”

“I told you, I can take care of myself.”

Bucky holds in a whine, embarrassing, desperate , “I know you can! You’re a fucking hero. You’re one of the best, Sam, you are. I wish I was that brave, I just-”

“Then why won’t you let me do this?” his friend asks in frustration, “Why won’t you let me try?”

I can’t lose you. “Because I lo-”

The words are interrupted by a loud bang. Sam closes his mouth immediately, tight-lipped. Bucky’s mouth hangs open, voice disappearing. Another bang. Then a moan reaches them from somewhere far away.

Their eyes widen in synchron as they look at each other, eye contact unwavering. They both know what that sound means.

Someone’s coming in. Someone not human.

Whatever’s found them, it’s on the roof, and it’s trying its hardest to get in, so Bucky’s got to shut his mind off and get ready.

Not only is he stupid enough to start a fight with Sam, they also get discovered by one of the zombies. Fan-fucking-tastic. They run to opposite ends of the safehouse, trying to locate exactly where the intruder’s at.

Bucky follows the sound into the hallway, past the bathroom, while Sam stays behind in the kitchen, machine gun pointed at the ceiling. He could not have picked a worse time to speak his feelings than today, could he? Well done, James.

And as if this day isn’t already bad enough, he can’t hear the groaning from the roof anymore.

“Sam!” he yells, because it doesn’t matter if the brain-eater hears them, “I lost it.”

“I hear them,” his friend yells back, prompting Bucky to make his way back, adrenaline pumping, feeling the sweat running down his back, “They’re on- Bucky! Buck-”

A crash. The biggest fucking crash he’s ever heard. Silence.

No.

“Sam?!”

“I’m here,” he hears the other man’s coughing, “It’s Steve. It’s Steve! Steve, hey, okay, now stay right there-”

Bucky’s officially panicking. This is not happening. It’s not .

He’s running so fast he stumbles over his own feet. At the same time, he feels as if he’s frozen on the spot. He’s not sure what’s real anymore.

“Sam, I’m coming-”

Sam screams . And Bucky’s heart is torn out of his chest and smashed onto the floor.

It’s the most earth shattering scream Bucky’s ever heard. It reaches him and goes inside every bone in his body and clouds his vision and makes him want to scream in anger. Sam. Sam. Sam. I need him. I need you.

Yet, when he reaches the living room, he sees nothing at first but rubble and smoke. The roof’s broken down. And in the middle of it, a figure is huddled over another lying on the floor, eerily still.

No. This isn’t real.

He might even convince himself he’s dreaming, he really might, because his vision is still clouded, and his teeth are still gritted so hard he bites the inside of his cheek, until the figure turns around and he’s met with a familiar face.

Steve Rogers.

But it isn’t his Steve, it could never be, because this Steve? This one’s a walking corpse. Sickly pale skin and blood between his teeth and red eyes looking back at Bucky with no memory or remorse. And on the floor-

On the floor… on the floor- He can’t be. He’s- Sam is- Sam .

“Sam,” is all Bucky can say, feeling like a broken record. His voice breaks, and the undead fucker in front of him doesn’t move an inch.

Sam is bitten. My Sam. I love you. I love you so fucking much and that’s why I didn’t want you to go, you perfect idiot, I love you-

He’s clutching the machine gun too hard, his knuckles are turning white, but he can’t do anything.

“That’s enough, Steve,” he finds himself addressing him. It doesn’t faze the thing in front of him, but that’s not surprising. It’s not his friend anymore, “Enough.”

Then a moan sounds, but it doesn’t come from Steve’s mouth. The figure on the floor rises, slowly. Sam Wilson. But he isn't his Sam anymore.

Sam looks at him. There’s nothing in his eyes, they’re empty. No warmth, no safety, not anymore.

He’s gone, but he can’t make himself believe it.

The thing that used to be his friend… the man he’s in love with, the man he wanted to spend every day with, every day for the rest of his life, if only he’d let him, that monster that’s destroyed the most beautiful soul on this shitty earth, hollowed him out and taken his body, that monster groans again.

Then, both figures move. The fuckers are moving in one direction, and that’s towards him.

They’re not fast, Bucky backs away, but his eyes are soon clouded by hot streams of tears running down his face. He can’t hold them back. He can’t control himself. He can’t control anything, not anymore.

So he raises his gun, “Sam,” he whispers, well aware no one’s going to respond, “Sam, I’m so sorry. This is my fault. This is all my-”

He squeezes his eyes shut, ready to fire all the ammo he’s got into his two undead friends, but he opens them again, looks back at them. They’re hungry. They’re still moving.

Bucky can’t breathe.

He wipes at his tears angrily, looking back and forth between those two dead fuckers and hovers his finger over the trigger, but he can’t… he can’t. He only realises in this second. He can’t shoot.

They’re not themselves anymore , he reminds himself. They’re gone.

But Sam’s warm voice full of peace and sunshine and lazy laughter and fleeting, shy touching of hands pops up in his head. That thing is our friend. He’s not dead. Those things are your best friend and the love of your life, James.

The zombies keep coming closer and Bucky bites his tongue.

“Shit.”

He lowers his gun, and because he doesn’t know what else to do, he knocks over the coffee table, then the TV, then the potted plant that Sam loves- loved so much, and runs as fast as he can, not looking back. He hears more crashes, the distraction hopefully successful, but doesn’t slow down.

Bucky escapes out the back door, jumps in the car and pushes the speeder.

Sam Wilson, I’m so in love with you, I can’t think about anything else. You’re the only one for me. I love you. And now you’re gone because of me. I didn’t get to tell you.

He doesn’t know what to do, or where he’s going, except- he needs to find Hope Van Dyne. He has to.

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kotachii · 3 years

Text

Fate

Pairing: Ace x Reader | Soulmate! Au

Synopsis: Soulmates had matching tattoos. When you met Ace, you were certain that he was your soulmate.

Fate

Raindrops slid down the glass, like melancholic tears from the sky. Your reflection only so faint on the window. Even if you were decorated with the finest jewelries from the top to bottom, tailor-made dress, most expensive heels nothing can fill the void in your heart.

“It was fate that brought you to me otherwise I would of drowned”, he used to say.

Fate.

It was a beautiful morning when you mindlessly strolled towards the river. Without a place to go, a reason to be, you found a man floating down the river. He was unconscious. With all of your force, you pulled him up on the riverbed and checked for pulse. He wasn’t dead. For the rest of the day, you camped out beside the man waiting for when he wakes up. He was quite peculiar, shirtless, no weapon, a hat that is completely soaked, the raven locks of hair framed his freckled face.

It was around mid-afternoon when he finally woke up. When he did, he enveloped you in a hug.

“Oh god, I thought I was dead! Thank you so much for saving me,” he said while you struggled to get out of the hug.

You would later learn that his name was Ace, Portgas D. Ace a traveler looking for adventure. When he asked you to join him on his adventure, you accepted. He was charming, nice, stupid at times but he always made you smile. The two of you went on so many adventures.

“Do you believe in dragons?”, Ace asked you.

“Umm...not particularly,” you replied.

“I heard that there is a dragon in Tamya forest, want to go check it out?”

“Sure!” you said with a grin.

On that day, you and Ace slaughtered one overgrown lizard and made more money than you could ever imagine selling the dragon parts in the nearby town.

“(Name), look at all of this money! There is more than enough for a lifetime! We could go anywhere, be anyone we could have feasts and not care about what anyone thinks of us,” Ace said.

“This is so great, let’s go eat something to celebrate,” you suggested.

“No, first, let’s get you the most expensive dress there is and get rid of that plain and ugly peasant dress you are wearing now,” he replied with a grin.

You laughed and said, “I can’t tell if that was supposed to be an insult.”

“Just stating the facts,” he said and winked.

In this world, you can’t just be anyone, there is a red string of fate that connects two people together. They are each other’s soulmates. The destined counterpart always bears a matching tattoo on their upper thigh.

“This grilled octopus taste so good!”, Ace said.

The two of you were in the Full Moon Festival at the Eastern Country. The streets were full of people, street food, performances and liveliness. The real reason you two came here was mostly for the fated technology called “fireworks”. They were described as on the best inventions of the Eastern Country, flowers that blooms in the sky.

“Ace,” you called. He bent down slightly so that he was at your height, “there is so much people here, let’s go find a quieter spot so we can enjoy the fireworks,” you said.

“Sure (Name), don’t get lost though,” he told you with a warm smile and you could feel his grip tighten on your hand.

Together, you found a nice and quiet spot by the river and awaited for the fireworks to appear. You leaned your head on Ace’s shoulder and enjoyed the calm moment.

“(Name), can you promise me to keep a secret?”, he asked you.

“Of course,” you mumbled.

Ace shifted from his position causing you to slightly fall backwards but he caught you and made you look into his eyes. The glow of the moon illuminated his face with an off white colour, the stars shone brightly in his eyes.

“Then pinky promise me,” he said.

You looked at him amused by the odd request but still obeyed anyways.

“Alright, I thought it was about time I told you, do you remember that one time when we were in the Southern Valleys and we were chased by a whole lot of knights?”, he asked you.

“Um...I think so. Yeah so what about it?”

“Those people weren’t after us. They were after me. It’s because I am the child of the last King. The one that was overthrown,” he said grimly.

“And…,” you continued.

“That’s it,” Ace said and he saw the look of confusion on your face, “Aren’t you surprised? Or angry? My father was known as the corrupted King. People hated him.”

“But that’s just him. You are you and that is all what matters to me,” you replied while staring right back into his eyes.

You two slowly leaned in for a kiss, and thus the vow was sealed. You could feel the strings of fate tugging you and Ace together into a bind. You were no longer travelling companions but a couple.

The fireworks erupted into the sky and created beautiful flowers of more variety than you’ve ever witnessed. Sparks of multicolours danced within the sky.

“(Name), do you feel it? I think we are just meant to be,” Ace said when he pulled away from the kiss.

You nodded with a smile and rested your head on the crook of his neck and enjoyed the moment. You wished the story could of ended here, it would of been perfect. But fate had other plans.

You remember later that night when you showed him the tattoo. In this society, it was considered inappropriate to show another person your tattoo before you can feel the strings of fate pulling you two together. However, you are positive Ace is your soulmate, there is no other way. Though one should not underestimate fate.

“How….how is that possible?”, you looked at him, not believing your eyes. Tears threatened to fall down and all of your senses felt numb.

Ace didn’t say anything and stared at the ground. The tattoo on his leg, a fire pattern mocked you as it did not match with yours. Yours were flowing like water, not the abrupt flames that he had. How could this be, you were positive it was him. You didn’t want to be anyone else but with him.

“Screw this!”, Ace shouted as he stood up, “Why does some dumb tattoo get to decide who I spend the rest of my life with.”

“It’s just fate,” you replied back depressed.

“Screw fate! Then it is also fate that brought you to me, otherwise I would of drowned that day by the river.”

“But Ace, fate gets to decide everything. It will keep on trying to separate us if we don’t listen to it. There is nothing we can do about it---”

“Until that happens, I am not abandoning you. Fate can try to separate us but we just have to be faster, more clever. We can escape it. We don’t have to listen to it. Let’s run away and don’t look back. I don’t care who we have to betray, who we have to abandon, I’ll do anything just so we can be together.”

Ace panted with harsh breath and anger seeped through his usually carefree face. You stood up and walked over to him and hugged him. You agreed with him, you don’t ever want to be with anyone else but him, he may not be your soulmate but he is the person you want to spend the rest of your life with. No regrets.

Life went on as normal but you two traveled at a quicker pace than before. Ever since that night, you could feel your surrounding altering it. It was because fate wants to punish you for not listening to it. For example, you’ve lately noticed that you tend to lose each other easily. Even if it is just walking in a crowded city, for a brief moment, you will lose sight of him among the sea of people. That was what you feared the most. What happens if one day you can’t find him anymore.

Also, more and more people that has been hunting for Ace. He is the son of the previous king and naturally, he brings a lot of enemies. But the appearances of conflicting parties has been more often than before. In fact, you even heard the name of the very man chasing after Ace. He would sometimes be in the front lines on this operation and there was one time when you and Ace almost didn’t escape. A piece of your dress was ripped off during the escape leaving your tattoo exposed. Ever since that day, a grim feeling has possessed you.

“Hey, (Name), have you heard about the town of Ethelia?”, Ace looked at you.

Today was a normal day, so you wished. No one chasing you, the sun was shining bright and life was pretty good.

“Yeah, isn’t that the big city up north?”, you replied.

“Let’s go there, today. I heard they have some nice ice cream shops,” Ace said.

“What’s that?”, you asked confused.

Ace chuckled, “I think it is something cold and sweet. That’s what I heard.”

“Cold? Like ice? I hate ice,” you stated bluntly.

“I don’t know but we will know once we go.”

“Fine.”

And little did you know, that day was the day fate finally won. On your journey there, you were stopped by the very group of men always after Ace. Lead by their leader, Akainu, there was nowhere left for you two to run. Ace was injured but he tried his best to stand up. He blocked you from the enemies.

“Leave her alone, what you want is me. Not her!”, Ace shouted at them.

“Move you little runt,” Akainu said, “Are you her soulmate or something? Last time I checked, you didn’t even have matching tattoos.”

“That is none of your business!”, Ace shouted back.

“Of course it is my business because that lovely lady behind you, she happens to share the same tattoo as me.”

Shocked. Sadness. Unbelief. It all swallowed you like waves trying to suffocate you. On that day when your dress ripped, it must of been that day when he saw. And later you did witness for yourself when you saw the familiar tattoo on his leg, that disgusting man was your soulmate.

It has been six months since then. It is also the day before the scheduled execution for Ace. He did nothing wrong but of course, Akainu was a powerful man and he is capable of pinning crimes onto Ace to make his execution justified. Ace is locked in a cell, underground, beneath this castle. You only saw him twice. The first time, he didn’t say anything and the second time, he told you to not come see him again. He didn’t want you to see him in this pitiful state. Chained to walls and wearing rags.

“Wanna take one last look at lover-boy down there,” Akainu mocked you when he walked into the room. You can’t believe he is your soulmate.

“There is no point.”

“Glad to see you finally came to your senses. He is just a swine,” he huffed before walking out of your room again.

There is no point because you’ve already planned the escape. It took you six months but you have acquired the keys to his cell, you also have found the gap flaw within the guarding system and an escape room.

When the night turned dark, shadows swallowed the castle, chains were removed and the caged became free. Two lone figures silently escaped the castle and never looked back. They dissolved into the night and once again they cheated fate. No one noticed them until a couple hours late when they were long gone and never had they caught them again.

#ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #one piece x reader #one piece ace x reader #Portgas D. Ace #portgas d ace #one piece ace #one piece

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jungleslut101 · 3 years

Text

I'm taking you home little lamb.

Summary- The deputy has been MIA for 3 months and the seeds take matters in their own hands when everyone else come back without their lost lamb.

__________________

The last everyone heard or seen the deputy was when she was taking out one of Jacobs wolf beacon. That was 3 months ago, no one has heard about her after that, even though it's been better for the cult,Joseph won't stop begging his brothers to go and look for their lamb together.

Which is why they are walking through a deep forest in the cold autumn weather. One of Jacobs men reported that there's been sight of the deputy deep in these woods.

After walking around 10 miles they come upon an abandoned rusted cabin. They slowly head for the door, hearing no sounds they doubt she's here but it's worth to check. John carefully opens the cracked door with Jacobs rifle pointed at it and Joseph's pistol in hand just for precaution.

They can slightly see inside pass the threshold but still no sight of the lamb."I'll go first just incase there are traps" Jacob whispers and they both nod

"Be careful brother and don't hurt her if you find her" Joseph whispers back. The brothers give him a weird look.

Jacob walks in checking inside each room he passes until he approaches the messy kitchen connected to the living room. He approaches where he can see a fire place just barely staying lit with a couch facing it. Either some one is here or been here.

Jacob stops dead in his tracks when he sees the woman who's been ruining their lives for the past 6 months sleeping soundly on the couch with blankets covering her lower half. He must be hallucinating there's no way he caught the she devil this easily, this must be a really good trap or a really sick joke either way he slowly takes coordinated steps towards her but she still doesn't stir even slightly.

Jacob reaches for his receiver radioing his brothers. "She's here" he whispers. After a minute John and Joseph find their way to the leaving room seeing their brother kneeling beside the couch.

"Come here,slowly" they both comply but no one prepared them for the image In front of them. They're little lamb sleeping on the couch looking so innocent.

"Who would've believe she's the devil who's brought havoc upon years of hard work" John scoffed making Jacob chuckle and Joseph giving them both side glares.

"I can feel the heat coming off her body " Joseph deliberately starts moving his hands towards her face just touching her cheek with a feathers touch. "She looks so harmless and angelic" he makes himself chuckle a bit Jacob and John watching his movements like a hawks eye finding it a little unusual that their brother act this kind towards her after everything she did. "Let's take our little lamb home" Joseph moves some of her hair that has fallen on her face behind her ear making her stir and wake.

Rook doesn't acknowledge her surroundings immediately but when she does see her 3 enemy's she's been trying to rid of for so long all looking at her she jolts upright from the couch making Joseph fall flat on his back with her sudden movement. Before she can reach the other side of the couch where she left her shotgun Jacob grabs her ankle making her fall on her stomach. The air gets knocked out of her so she turns while taking greedy gulps of air,but that is short lived when Jacob crushes her body with his own making her breath hitch again.

"And where do you think you're going so soon pup? We just found you" he grins down wolfishly at her making her tremble from fear.

"Jake your scaring our dearest deputy get off the poor girl for fuck sake" John couldn't hide the excitement from his voice which made her more nervous.

"Brother John is right we don't want to scare our lamb back in to hiding" Jacob slowly removed his weight from her but he still had her trapped with his thighs on either side of her hips and a little weight on her pelvic region.

She whimpered a little, her mind still hazy from sleep. Maybe she was having a nightmare this can't be real. Jacob shifts his weight a little making her moan in discomfort. Not realising she's only wearing panties and a loose Metallica shirt making her legs and thighs bare for their prying eyes.

She's getting a little flustered so she bucks her hip to try and escape from Jacobs hold which has Jacob lose his balance and almost crush her with his weight if it wasn't for his fast reflexes, holding himself up with his palms flat next to her head. "Careful kitten" his tone is low and predatory, she can feel his hot breath on her face making her stomach churn.

"Get the fuck off me seed" she bucks her hip with more strength this time hitting her stomach with his making both of them gasp unintentionally. Her from pain him from surprise.

"My child calm yourself we're not here to hurt you"

"Shut the fuck up hipster Jesus and you ginger fuck I told you to get off of me"

She glares at Joseph then at Jacob whose expression is still shocked

"My my deputy who knew such vile words could come from someone like you" John laughs.

"Johnny quiet for once, I think the deputy has something to tell us huh pup isn't that right ?" He gives her that damn smirk again.

"I have nothing to tell you fucking peggies now Get Off!"

"What are you talking about Jake" John asks with curiosity.

"Well since our dear lamb won't share with the family I will." He carefully flattens his hand on her stomach where he can feel a bump there." Our deputy has a little pup on the way isn't that right?" He laughs manically. He wasn't sure at first when the baby bump hit him in his abdomen but now that he touched it his 100% sure.

Joseph gasps "What are you talking about brother? Do you mean she's pregnant" Jacob nods still rubbing rook's baby bump.

She starts getting flustered again and this time she thrashes to get the mountain Man off. John looks dumbfounded but snaps himself out of it when he sees her struggle. " Jake you should probably get off of her. You're stressing her out." Jacob nods and slowly gets off of her making her exhale the long breath she's been holding in.

"Don't fucking act like it's your asshole."

"Hmm of course my dear but if I may who exactly is the father of your unborn child? I hope you at least keep count of the many sins you commit" his statement makes rook laugh madly.

"Oh Johnny, I'll let your brother do the math on that one" John furrows his brows then looks at Jacob making her laugh more "oh no honey don't look at him. Look at your other brother, the holiest man of all, The Father." They all turn to Joseph to see him pale with his mouth agape. "Ohh he didn't tell you? Well you see after a month into the fighting, your brother radioed me, asking to meet him at where all of it started so we can put an end to it. At first I wasn't gonna go cause like who's dumb enough to go, well I was I thought I was gonna go kill him which would make it easier for the resistance to take back the county. But when I got to the church and I saw the Holly man himself shirtless with sweat coating his skin something snapped or maybe I was just too horny." She heard Jacob chuckle "Anyway one thing led to another the next thing we knew he was fucking me on his Pulpit, the Holy man fucking the heathen in the place of God, The place where he gives his sermons to his beloved children The Father fucking me all raw and roug.."

"I've Heard Enough!" Joseph yelled making her stop talking. "You know my dear rook you didn't have to go into details." He kneeled Infront of her taking her head in between his calloused hands. "You should've told me you were carrying my child I would've--"

"You would've what Joseph huh? All you were gonna do is put a huge target on my back. You know what will happen if the resistance find out I'm carrying one of the greatest cult leaders child, they'll find me and rip the child out of me while I'm still conscious."

"You think I would let that happen, you think any of us would let someone near the mother of my child. Do you think this wickedly of me? " Joseph sounded sad which made rook a little sad.

"Get up my dear we're taking you to my bunker where it's safe" John chirped in all happy and excitedly. "After all can't have the mother of my brother's child in danger."

"He's right pup you already look weak and malnourished. If you want the baby coming out healthy and well you need to be somewhere stress free and safe."

"I'm fine right where I am, it's safe here"

"Not anymore my little lamb. I'm sorry but I'm gonna take you to one of my brothers bunkers whether you like it or not. I prefer it be willingly" she looked at him for a while looking for anything in his expression but nothing just that cool calm face he always wore. She nodded making them all sigh in relief. "John,Jacob please go pack everything our rook has, the sooner we get to the bunkers the better." They both nodded and got to work.

Joseph slowly brought his hand up and layed it on her stomach were he could feel the bump. She gasped not expecting him to do that. "I didn't know I was pregnant you know. But after 2 months in to it Kim was the one who told me I was showing the signs she experienced so she gave me a test. I was hoping for it to come back negative but something in the deepest part of my heart also hoped for it to come as positive" she laughed with tears perked up in her eyes some falling free even though she tried hard not to let them.

He caressed her stomach with light touches not realising his eyes was also welling up with tears. She brought her hands to his cheek wiping the tears that came free something that was too intimate for them both but somehow felt right. Joseph brought his forehead to hers closing his eyes just enjoying the moment.

Not knowing what she was doing she touched her lips to his so lightly that he barely felt it. When he didn't pull away she deepened the kiss a little making him grab her neck with his other hand that wasn't rubbing her stomach to deepen it even more. This didn't feel wrong at all. Maybe the baby would be the sign of hope in this hell. The hope everyone needed.

"Let's take you home little lamb"

The End.

#Joseph seed/female deputy #john seed #jacob seed #female character #unplanned pregnancy #hurt/comfort #Fluff #Mentoin of smut

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venusandromedadjarin · 3 years

Text

Not Mandalore

Ch. 7, A Glint of Beskar

18+ eventual smut, flashbacks with violence, sexual tension, 1.9k words

The next planet is a few days away, which you’re grateful for since it’ll give him time to rest. As you play with the kid and his silver ball, you sit across from Mando, scrutinizing every slight movement and waiting for him to either wake up or freak out. It’s so quiet in the hull that you try to occupy yourself with the child’s coos, asking him questions in a whispered voice so that he’ll fill the silence with nonsense.

Eventually the child starts to get sleep, his big eyes gradually being covered by droopy eyelids. Instead of putting him back in his capsule, you open the door to the cot and set him in there with his blanket. He falls asleep immediately, the silver ball clutched in his hand. The door slides shut with a small hiss.

Earlier, you tried to get Mando up on the cot while it was pulled out of its compartment, but you couldn’t lift him onto it and he wasn’t much help. He’s currently still passed out in the makeshift bed on the floor, and you crouch down next to him to feel his heart beat through his chest. It’s definitely gotten stronger and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Even though you’re scared of leaving him alone, you decide this might be your only chance to shower. Between taking care of him, the kid and cleaning up the huge mess in the hull, you’ve barely had enough time to wipe the blood off your hands, much less change your clothes.

As the steam fills the refresher, you peel your shirt and pants off, the fabric stiff with Mando’s blood. All of your bruises are gone, and you look down at your rib cage to see your own birthmark. Stepping into the warm water, you sink into the memory.

“Mommy? What is this?” She looks at where your small hand is trying to grab at a mark on your side; gently pulling your hand away, she smiles.

“That’s our family birthmark. All of the girls have them, see?” She lifts her shirt to show you hers and you reach out a small finger, poking at the crescent shape on her side.

“Why?” Your voice is small in the little hut, the heat outside making the indoors stifling hot.

“Our ancestors had them, but you aren’t old enough to know why yet. You might not know for a long time. One day you’ll meet someone with a different mark-”

“Oh, like my friend?”

Your mother jerks her eyes to yours, taken aback by your comment, “What friend, y/n?”

“You know him. We play.”

“The Djarin boy, right?”

You nod, suddenly afraid that you might be in trouble. You also don’t want him to get in trouble, it was bad enough after playing near the lava.

“I wish I could tell you everyth-“

Her response is cut off by the echoing sounds of blaster fire and screams-

The memory is cut short by a sudden groan outside, and you quickly shut off the water, wrapping your body in the towel. As you emerge, you notice that Mando is sitting up directly across from the door, watching you through the black slit in the helmet. He clears his throat, making you jump after being surrounded by silence and babbling for so long.

“The quarry…”

“I already dealt with her,” you take a few steps toward him, stopping at the way his helmet flicks up at your answer.

“I didn’t want you to see her.” He shifts, his body flinching at the movement but he doesn’t make a sound.

You cross the rest of the way over to him, suddenly aware that your hair is dripping down your back and the towel around you is dampening in suggestive areas since you didn’t dry off. You shiver, but not from the cold. “It’s okay,” emboldened by the events of the past 24 hours, you set a hand on his shoulder, his helmet coming up to look at you, and you kneel next to him. “We’re heading to Geonosis for the next bounty, but it will take a few days. You can rest.”

He nods slightly, raising a hand to you, but then quickly drops it back to his side, his thumb rubbing at his new scar. You can’t help but look at the birthmark on his shoulder, trying to think of ways it might just be a coincidence. He sees you looking, and with a jolt you realize that when he was taking care of you in the days before, he probably saw yours. Flushed, you hurry to your feet, “I-I have to get d-dressed.”

You spin away from him, but he’s too quick. Before you can even reach for your bag, he’s on his feet and standing behind you, his warm hands putting slight pressure on one hip and your arm that’s holding the towel in place. Maker, you forgot how quick he is. You can feel him breathing heavy as his chest lightly brushes your shoulder blades, and the modulator does little at hiding it. Your breath hitches in your throat, your chest tightening as he moves his hand down your arm until it’s resting over your hand. Entwining your fingers with his, he loosens the towel, letting it slide down between your bodies and onto the floor.

His helmet lowers down to your shoulder and you feel him tense behind you as he breathes in and slowly trails his fingers up your hip and over your ribs. They come to rest right underneath your breast, where the crescent shaped mark is. Trying to focus all your attention on the cold metal of his helmet proves futile and you feel feverish as you try to make yourself breathe.

“D-did you see,” he starts, pausing to take a shuddering breath, “something that you would like to ask me about?”

Scared of what will happen if you admit you saw his birthmark, you shake your head, frozen in what you think might also be excitement. He releases your hand and moves to drag his fingertips up your spine, “N-no.” Your answer comes out as a puff of air but you’re positive he heard you. Just as you think he’s going to put his hands somewhere else, anywhere else, he pulls away from.

“You should sleep,” is all he says as he turns to hastily go to the refresher, slamming the door shut behind him.

Suddenly and achingly aware of how naked you actually are, you turn away from the wall and stare down at yourself, water droplets rolling down over your breasts and tummy. A sigh tears from your throat after holding your breath. You quickly get dressed and look around to see if there’s anything else you can straighten up before he’s done, the tightness in your core waiting for what’s next. His armor is hanging in its cabinet, as clean as you could get it while watching the child. The blood was washed up immediately after jumping into hyperspace. Your eyes land on the pile of blankets and look around to see if there’s a better spot. There’s a medium sized space towards the back of the hull that stays dim, even with the lights on, so you drag the blankets over and try to make it as comfortable as possible, not really knowing what to expect.

You check on the kid before going up to the cockpit to double check the navigation and autopilot controls. Down below, you hear the shower turn off. You rush back down the ladder, almost slipping as you try to get in under the blanket, your heart pounding at the idea he might not like if you disobeyed him. This is silly, you think to yourself, when have you ever taken orders from someone, much less a man, unless you had to in order to survive? The thought makes you shudder, pushing unwanted memories out of your head once more. Truth be told, the blankets actually provide you some warmth in the cold hull. You also didn’t actually realize how tired you were until you laid down.

Mando exits the refresher, a towel wrapped around his waist… that deep V leading down to… you watch as he opens a cabinet and then disappears again. Your eyes are half shut when he emerges in black pants and shirtless, “When’s the last time you slept?” His bare feet make soft thumps as he pads over to the blankets, a slight stiffness to his body that signals he might still be hurting a bit.

“Dunno… The night before you left?” You murmur it into your arm as you turn onto your side, sinking into the exhaustion. Part of you wants to sit up and hold him, if he’ll let you. Instead he smoothly drops down on his knees in front of you, reaching out one hand to swiftly pull back the blanket before sliding in next to you. It takes you by enough surprise to actually open your eyes and look at him.

The helmet looks back at you, but you swear you can feel his eyes boring into you. You feel warm again, remembering the feeling that left you when you were presented with a chance to sleep. The modulator cracks, “That's been over a day and a half by the looks of it.” You must look confused because he goes on, “You gave me a half dose of Bacta which knocked me out for… 16 hours? I’m guessing Kuiil put you to work the day I left.” You nod up at him, watching as he shifts against the metal wall behind him. His muscles jump a little.

“Are you still in pain?”

He doesn’t bother answering, just turns the helmet away and moves his arm enough for you to see the multiple bruises still yellowing the skin on his side. The scar on his other side, above his waistband, is still swollen and red, but it doesn’t look infected. You wish you could check the one on his thigh, but don’t know how well he would take it if you asked. The Bacta did what it could, but you realize it might not have been a strong enough dose.

“Mando,” you say it softly, curious if he’ll even entertain the idea of questions, “where are you from?”

He sighs, but it doesn’t come through the modulator, you only see his chest move with it. “Not Mandalore.”

You stare at him, expecting more of an explanation, but he doesn’t give it. “Then how’d you become a Mandalorian?”

“I was rescued and trained as a foundling. They don’t do it often.” The helmet pointedly looks down at you, “Where are you from?”

“Nevarro,” you say it stronger than you would have expected, but he hears the tremor in your voice and suddenly moves closer, wrapping an arm underneath you and pulling you into him. His fingers rub absent circles on your hip where his hand rests. You must fall asleep like that, up against his warm side, your arm wrapped over his abdomen, being careful not to put pressure on anywhere sensitive.

Hours later, after he knows you’re asleep and the child hasn’t stirred, he removes his helmet to gently kiss the top of your head before pulling it back over his face and falling asleep.

#the mandolarian #the mandolorian x reader #din djarin reader insert #din djarin #reader x din Djarin

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gainerstories · 4 years

Text

Lifeguard Off Duty: Epilogue

Bradley washed his hands in the bathroom and examined his imposing frame. There was no denying it: he had gone soft from working an office job. And not just a little soft, almost 200 pounds of fat soft. Looking at himself in the mirror, he could barely remember the ultra fit lifeguard who started at city hall all those years ago.

As he absorbed the image before him, he appreciated how the fabric of his tucked in plaid button up was completely filled with his rounded out belly, but not so tight that the buttons strained. It had taken him a few months of squeezing into outgrown clothes, seams tearing, and holes forming in the crotch of his pants before he finally learned how to dress for his size. Now, he felt confidence in the way his suspenders framed his shapely and prominent gut. His size was not something to hide, but to wear with pride. He avoided the oversized and misshapen clothes that so many larger men wore, preferring pants that hugged his rounded ass cheeks and wide thighs and shirts that cupped his distended belly.

With shoulders back and hips forward to accommodate his girth, Bradley swaggered out of the bathroom and towards the cafeteria with all the confidence in the world. After four years climbing the ladder at city hall and one long election cycle, Bradley was now the Mayor of Adipol. He grabbed a cinnamon roll, the kind Peter used to sell to him, and poured a cup of coffee while reciting his speech in his head. Later that afternoon he was to cut the ribbon at the unveiling of a new beach in town.

Abundance Beach had been overrun with trash and pollutants for decades, but after a year of intensive clean up and restoration under Bradley’s leadership it was now sparkling clean. The cleanup was a boon for real estate around the beach and a small commercial sector was beginning to spring forth nearby, including a third location for Muffin Tops.

Bradley gobbled up his cinnamon roll and ordered a foot long sub sandwich, bread bowl of chili, and potato chips that he brought back to his office. He needed to fuel up before waddling out to the beach front. Tucked behind his desk in his reinforced office chair, Bradley unfolded a napkin and tucked it into the collar of his shirt. These days, this was the only way for him to pig out in public without getting his shirt covered in food stains. He also cracked a beer he kept in the mini fridge of his office. A little alcohol always helped loosen him up before public speaking engagements.

Eventually the food was gone and his tank was so full that it felt noticeably heavier resting in his lap. Leaning back, he took a photo of his bloated belly on his laptop and sent it to Peter who encouraged him to drink one more beer to top it off. Bradley chuckled when he saw the message, chugged an IPA, stood up, and waddled to his car.

He arrived at the beach early but even still a crowd had formed before the ribbon. As mayor, he was dressed professionally in long sleeves and pants despite the fact it was the dead of summer. As a result he began to sweat almost immediately upon leaving his air conditioned car. Standing before the ribbon he looked into the faces of the eager children and young parents before him. Behind him stood Peter, a variety of local business owners, and staff from city hall.

Bradley delivered his short speech and was presented with a pair of giant scissors by his treasurer. Dramatically he snipped the red ribbon and everyone cheered before heading down to the water. Back in the parking lot, drinks were served at a makeshift bar and several shop owners had set up booths peddling their wares and foods. Avoiding the sand and discovering that Peter had disappeared, Bradley headed towards the bar.

“Bradley Parker! I am just so proud whenever I see your face!” Wanda exclaimed and rushed over to wrap her arms around Bradley in a big bear hug.

Bradley chuckled, “Always a pleasure to see you Wanda.”

“It has been so great to watch your growth all these years. From a mere coordinator to Mayor in record time! I can still remember your first day. You were a nervous little waif trying so hard to do your best. And now look: large and in charge! My god I’d never guess that you were such a big eater when you started. And I see that that cushy mayor’s office has been treating you particularly well,” Wanda winked and pinched Bradley’s overhang.

“You know me too well, Wanda. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m gonna grab a beer and make the rounds.”

“Oh of course, Mr. Mayor. Sorry to take your time. It was great seeing you.”

At the bar Bradley ran into Eric and his boyfriend who were wearing nothing but their swimsuits. Bradley couldn’t tell if the two men had indeed grown fatter since he last saw them, or if he never realized they were this fat until he saw them shirtless. Eric held a tall blended cocktail that matched the color of the bright red stretch marks on his lower belly. Meanwhile, his boyfriend leaned the upper half of his belly and moobs against the bar while ordering. From behind, he was just a series of rolls squeezed into swim trunks.

“Look at you at you Mayor Bradley! Large and in charge as always I see,” Eric chimed.

“Eric! So nice to see you,” Bradley said while motioning to the bartender that he’d like a beer. “How has it been back at the office? I miss you guys.”

“Same ‘ol same ‘ol, you know how it is. Nothing too exciting. I will say we’ve made use of your bill expanding funding. We’ve been doing team outings once a quarter and have Muffin Tops catered every Monday morning.”

“That sounds fantastic! You’re making me jealous I’m not there anymore.”

“It’s been nice! Although I think the bakery has been taking a toll on the old waistline,” Eric slapped his overhang. “I’ve put on about thirty pounds this year alone.”

“Tell me about it. Once I started at city hall this thing hasn’t stopped growing. I’m leaning into it, though, and I’ll tell you what Eric- it looks good on you!” Bradley slapped Eric’s belly in the same spot, leaving a momentary handprint.

Eric blushed and replied, “Mr. Mayor,” coquettishly.

“Say, where’s Malcolm?” Bradley mentioned.

“Well, speaking of packing it on!” Eric began. “Malcolm just fucking ballooned, like I mean huge, like massive. We had to order him a specialty office chair that was wide set and could support up to 600 pounds because he broke the other one. You’d think that would be a wake up call but that did not slow him down. He’s currently at a six month fat camp up north. He had to have been like, I don’t know, pushing 500 pounds when he left. Like, unrecognizable. Real wake up call for the rest of us fatties... not that I’ve lost any weight recently.”

“Wow, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised to hear that, but I am. Glad he’s doing what’s best for him,” Bradley responded as Eric’s boyfriend joined with his fruity cocktail. “Well I’ll let you boys hit the beach while I search for Peter. He should be hiding somewhere. He doesn’t enjoy the spotlight.”

“Well it was great seeing you Bradley. You’re a great leader,” Eric said and wobbled towards the beach.

With his beer in hand, Bradley wandered through the crowd looking for Peter. The dark asphalt coupled with the increasingly dense crowd was creating a heat bubble around the parking lot that had Bradley sweating bullets. He was sure that the T-shirt underneath his button up was completely soaked with sweat and feared it would begin soaking through his outer layer. He could even feel beads of sweat drip from his fat pad, around his junk, and down his leg.

“Mayor Parker!” exclaimed a gushing female voice vaguely recognizable to Bradley.

He turned around to see Diane, the new hire who hit on him constantly before he ran for Mayor. She stood with her arm linked to a man that was nearly, but not quite, as fat as Bradley. Without invitation Diane wrapped her free arm around Bradley’s back in a hug, giving his love handle a sneaky squeeze, and causing his lower back sweat to finally pervade his button up.

“Diane, how nice to see you,” Bradley responded flatly while awkwardly sustaining her unwanted advances.

“And this is Christian,” Diane said, “you remember him? He was your replacement, also a former lifeguard.”

Bradley stared at the hulking man before him. The Christian who was his replacement was lean and muscular. It didn’t seem possible that someone almost as big as Bradley himself could have gained all that weight in such a short amount of time. Bradley shook Christian’s hand and made small talk with the couple, all the while contemplating what a massive eater Christian must be to have ballooned like that. Then it hit him: Diane was clearly a feeder and Christian’s gains were no accident.

Eventually, Bradley excused himself and tried to squeeze away through the crowded parking lot. Finally, he laid eyes on Peter who was drinking a beer in the corner by himself. The couple embraced and held a long kiss. As they stepped away Bradley heard someone say his name from behind.

“Mayor Bradley Parker! Large and in charge I see!”

Bradley turned around and accidentally smashed his belly into Diego’s own rotund gut.

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Bradley said.

“Well look at you!” Diego replied. “Your belly just knocked mine. I mean sheesh, look at this thing- you’re starting to make me look petite!”

Diego and Hayden each wore shorts and a loosely draped Hawaiian print button up that subtly rested on their curves. Diego’s was unbuttoned half way down revealing his massive hairy pecs, and tucked in to display the fullness of his girth. Hayden on the other hand left his untucked, occasionally flashing a glimpse of belly.

The two couples had become somewhat close in recent months, as Diego was routinely at city hall as he expanded Muffin Tops into a chain and began filing the paperwork to start franchising. In the last few years their original location expanded to serve bread and savory pastries, Diego bought out Thick Treats and converted it into a Muffin Tops, and everything was now in place to open their third location at Abundance Beach in just a few days.

In the midst of conversation, Diego invited Bradley and Peter to the new bakery nearby. The walk there was not far, but pushed Bradley over the edge. By the time they arrived his clothes were drenched in sweat and he was wiping his brow dry.

“Why don’t you take those stuffy clothes off?” Diego suggested. “We’re all friends here, no need to be overly professional Mr. Mayor.”

Bradley removed his outer layer so he was only wearing a white tee that was now see through from the sweat and rode up to just below his belly button. He sat on a nearby table while Diego expressed surprise that Bradley was now definitely the biggest man in the room. From a distance, the sound of squeaky wheels turning approached. Bradley looked over to see Jeremy emerging from the kitchen pushing a three tiered cake.

“We wanted to congratulate you on the new beach!” Hayden exclaimed. “You’ve been so great to all of us and this town so we made your favorite chocolate cake.”

The room clapped and Jeremy began to cut the cake. Bradley had to do a double take upon seeing Jeremy close up. Not only was he much tanner, but Bradley’s former gym bud now had a serious gut hanging off of him. Bradley knew that he’d moved in with Diego and Hayden but he could of sworn he saw Jeremy in the gym looking fit as ever a few months ago. Flabbergasted, Peter broke the silence on the subject.

“Jeremy, you look different…” Peter said suggestively.

“Are you talking about this thing?” Jeremy pushed his hips forward and grabbed his belly with both hands, giving it a proud shake. “I took a two month vacation of unbridled hedonism in the Italian countryside.”

“Did wonders, I’d say!” grinned Diego.

Jeremy served each of the men massive hunks of cakes and simply placed the entirety of the top tier on Bradley’s plate. Before digging in, they popped a bottle of champagne and cheersed.

“To Bradley, our dear friend, Mayor, and loyal customer of Muffin Tops,” Diego said.

“And to you guys,” Bradley responded, “My dear friends, my lovely encouraging partner, and… to Jeremy’s new pot belly!”

The five men stepped closer to clink glasses, causing their bellies to softly squish into one another.

This is a co-authored story by gainerstories and gainingfiction.

This chapter is written by gainerstories.

#lifeguard

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