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emo-batboy · 6 months

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Things Battinson Totally Did During His First Year of University

Using Unhinged or Odd Things I Also Did as a College Freshman :D

Note: for this list, let’s believe Bruce was living in an (admittedly expensive and swanky) dorm because it is required for first-years, especially those entering at a young age, and Alfred told him he needed to make friends. Also yes I did every single thing on this list. I never claimed to be a role model

Bruce, to his TA: I’m so sorry I’m late to class. I gave blood a few hours ago and almost fainted on the way here, but it won’t happen again.

Signs up for a class called “Age of Dinosaurs” despite it not being required whatsoever and proceeds to work his entire schedule around it

Bruce: Your mental health is super important. If you think you should see the on-campus therapist, go see them. Friend: Fine. I’ll sign up for therapy if you sign up for therapy too. Bruce: Hold on-

Finds a loophole in his housing contract that allows him to get a pet frog, calls him kermit :)

Gets a second frog because Kermit was lonely, names it Constantine after Muppets Most Wanted, then realizes that they’re gay for each other. Wonders if the rainbow-colored rocks he got them triggered anything

Swings dramatically between calling Alfred every single day and ghosting him for weeks, cries when he realizes what he did

“Accidentally” joins the student body council, doesn’t know what he’s doing, gets re-elected anyway

Molds a dragon out of Laffy Taffy instead of doing his work

Bruce: *joins Honors, gets all A’s, takes the max amount of classes, has several minors, overachieves* Also Bruce: I’m a failure.

Breaks into a building after hours to study because NO ONE KNOWS HOW TO SHUT THE FUCK UP AT THE LIBRARY

Bruce: I will not get seasonal depression this year. Bruce: *gets real and seasonal depression that year*

Meticulously schedules his day with a color-coded planner because if he sits down for too long, the thoughts will consume him

Gives a presentation to his rhetoric class on how much he likes Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse (it is 20 minutes long)

Successfully allocates funding from the student body council to pay for free feminine products in the dorms OUT OF SPITE because someone said it couldn't be done. fuck you, Andrew

Bruce: It is not an all-nighter if I go to sleep before my first class. Friend: It is 7:30am, the sun is in the sky, and your first class is at 12:30. Bruce: But I am getting sleep.

Refuses to go anywhere without his backpack because what if he needs three notebooks at once

Loses over 20 pounds because ✨stress✨ and scares the shit out of Alfred when he comes home for Thanksgiving

Argues with his TA over the one (1) question he got wrong on his Dinosaur exam

Bruce, calling Alfred: Hello father figure. How do I do taxes? Do I have to do them myself? Also, I think I’m having a panic attack.

Joins in on a charity arts-and-crafts project that gives kids books with matching activities made by volunteers, proceeds to commandeer the project because “it’s not color-blind friendly” and rewrites the instructions for everyone

Makes a murder wall

Goes to one (1) sports game and proceeds to leave in the first ten minutes because it’s way too loud wtf is wrong with people

Professor, addressing the lecture hall: I dare you to write an essay about these two sentences. Bruce: *writes an essay about six words, gets a 100, never even read the book*

Crawls into the ceiling for some alone time

Ghosts someone after a date because he’s too scared to tell them he didn’t know it was a date in the first place and now he feels bad

Classmate: How tf does he walk across campus that fast? I go in the same direction he does on my bike, and he’s always ahead of me. Bruce: *is gay sprinting to Dinosaur class*

Refuses to let others use his Favorite Pen TM

Constantly gets mistaken for a Grad Student because he is “so wise and mature” (bestie, that’s the autism)

Alfred: *casually mentions he got into a car accident through text* Bruce: *replies with a meme while hyperventilating because he doesn’t know what to do with that information??!*

Wears a suit to one of his finals

Regularly eats non-organic food for the first time in his life, proceeds to learn about several allergies Alfred forgot to mention he has

Writes “What is a Hot Pocket?” in calligraphy and proceeds to laugh his ass off alone in his dorm because he is so exhausted he’s reached the point of delusion

Locks himself out of his dorm right before class, frantically asks the floor group chat if someone can help, proceeds to tell the nice gay man on the floor who saved him “I love you” because his social skills have hit rock bottom

Makes a little music album display next to his desk for his favorite band (Nirvana) His friends call it a shrine, and they are technically correct

Has a blacklist of people he refuses to interact with because Reasons

Counselor: What do you want to do when you graduate? Bruce: *gestures vaguely*

Refuses to take the bus because there are people in there and he doesn’t like those

Loses one of his frogs, how tf did he do that, they’re fully aquatic, oh fuck, this is probably why they got rid of that loophole a year later because unbeknownst to Bruce, he accidentally started a frog revolution in the dorms, btw he SWEARS he did not mean to do that

Has two trash cans in his room: one for the Good Garbage, and one for the Bad Garbage. Only Bruce knows which is which

Bruce: *writes a creative piece about a ship’s final thoughts as it sinks, bringing its passengers down with it* TA: Absolutely lovely, Bruce, but are you okay?

Goes on Night Walks, keeps himself safe by maintaining a level 12 resting bitch face at all times

Earns the nickname “8th floor cryptid” after pacing the halls at 3am when it’s too cold for Night Walks (honestly tho how tf didn’t he get the nickname earlier?)

Bruce: Do you think a depressed person could do this? Bruce: *has a manic episode*

Okay that's all love you BYE

#cryptid Bruce Wayne #college au #does this count if op is the au #fully nocturnal unhinged madman Bruce but make him like 17 and full of crippling separation anxiety and autism #bruce would rather die than inconvenience a professor but hE KNOWS HIS DINOSAURS #Dino class was my fav one in uni hands down #yes i am insane thank you for asking #originally this was just going to be a normal list but I kept taking from my own experience then said “fuck it I'm the captain now”#one of these was a lie tho...the murder wall was third year :/#battinson #bruce wayne #batman #the batman 2022 #batman 2022 #the batman #battinson needs a hug #dc universe #gotham #autistic bruce wayne

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finelinevogue · 4 months

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a caribbean birthday

summary - you wake up in paradise on your birthday

word count - ~1k

pairing - husband!harry x reader

You woke up to soft kisses trailing down your back.

The chill of the room and the light of the waking sun told you it was approaching morning.

“No.” You grumbled, pulling the sheet up over your exposed chest to stop the kissing, “It’s too early.”

That didn’t stop your ever-loving husband from leaning over to kiss up your back, across your neck and onto your jaw though.

“Happy birthday, m’love.”

Harry made sure to continue to kiss you, until he abruptly stopped.

You heard him flop back down on the bed and away from you. You grumbled in your sleep, not liking the lack of warmth now that he’d moved from you - even though you had been complaining of the time ten seconds ago.

“Why’d you stop?” You mumbled.

“‘Cause someone told me to,” Harry replied, “Plus I gave you one kiss for every year you’ve decided to bless this universe.”

You opened your eyes slowly, adjusting to the light, and turned in bed with the sheet still tucked close to you.

With no words, you simply moved over and on to Harry. Your head rested on his chest and you closed your eyes once more.

Harry’s hand took the time to tangle through your hair and brush through it slowly, brushing his fingers over your scalp the way you adore. It was the simple things.

You hummed in peace and relaxed into him.

“Harry?”

“Yeah, sunshine?”

You couldn’t help but smile at the tiny endearment, knowing Harry got off on how they made you squirm.

“Thank you for my birthday kisses.”

“That’s okay.”

He continued stroking your head, lulling you back to sleep again.

For only 30 minutes.

When you woke again, you realised you hadn’t slept for much longer but your husband was now missing.

You flopt into the middle of the bed and looked up at the bare ceiling, thinking about how you were now another year older. You were grateful for that alone. You had an amazing life partner too, whom loved you just as much as you did him.

Growing up was scary, but not so much when you had your person beside you.

You sat up in bed and looked outside the window. The sheer curtains were blown inwards and as far as you could see were endless waves on the ocean. The sand on the beach was somewhere below, but from your view all you could see was blue.

You smiled at his lucky you were to be here.

In the Caribbean.

Crawling to the end of the bed you picked up one of Harry’s sweaters and threw it on, yanking the hood up too to hide you from the morning chill. You put on a clean pair of boxer shorts too before making your way out of the room.

There wasn’t many places to go, considering you were on a boat - luxury yacht - but it was still spacious enough to take a couple of minutes to find Harry.

You found him at the rear of the boat, overlooking the ocean with a coffee in hand.

Taking out your phone, you snapped a photo of him for safe keeping.

“Knew I married you for a reason.” Your voice broke the silence.

He turned around and noticed you wearing his hoodie. That was fine since it looked way better on you now than it ever did him.

“And what’s that then?” He smirked, leaning back against the rail.

“Those back muscles.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm. And the abs, thighs… hands.” You bit your lip.

“Ass?” Harry asked, breaking the sexual tension immediately.

“I was going to say eyes, actually.” You rolled yours.

“No you weren’t, y’fibber.”

You scrunched your nose at him and padded off back inside.

Before you could even think about ever you were off to, the next thing you knew you were being picked up under your legs and waist and being twirled around the room in your husbands arms.

“Harry!” You screeched.

He was a mad man, trying to lean to kiss you too without dropping you.

“You primal prick.” You laughed when he set you back down, but you kept your arms around his shoulders as he kept his around your waist.

“Primal huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“You’re so bleh.”

“Weren’t saying that last night, darling. Especially not on the terrace when we–”

You cupped your hand over his mouth to stop the filth from pouring out. “Shut up.”

“There’s no one here but us.” He pulled a face at you.

“Still. There’s no need to speak our unholy business into the universe.”

“Unholy, you say? I guess you were shouting to God.”

His words left you gobsmacked and you hit him in the chest because of it. The cheek of him, honestly.

“I’m not playing mermaids with you, again, if you keep talking like that…” You warned him, moving of him and towards the kitchen area.

“Y/NNN…”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles caribbean #harry styles husband fic

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danime25 · 5 months

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You Had Me At Soup

masterlist // ao3

*Summary: While in the Sierra program, Six never got sick. Now that he was adapting to civilian life with Claire and the woman he roped in to play Claire's mom, he seemed to be down with a bug of some kind.

*Rating: T For Teen

*Content/Tags: Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Fake Dating, Pining, So Much Mutual Pining, Sickfic

*Status: Oneshot/Complete

A gift for a friend, enjoy!

Six heard the plink of fat raindrops hit the window of his bedroom. In between the rhythm of the precipitation, a splitting pounding in his head. He tried to sit up, but that seemed to only make the pain worse for him. His stirring woke up the woman beside him and she saw as he curled back up under the covers.

“Six?” She asked him. She sat up and her hand ended up resting on his forehead, “Oh you’re burning up.”

“I need to take Claire…” He made an effort to sit back up before deciding getting up was overrated

“I’ll take her to school. You have to rest.” She said in a soft tone. Sure it was soft, but he knew it wasn’t a suggestion.

“Okay.” He sighed, “Tell Claire I love her.”

“I will. I’ll go wake her up.” She got up and closed the door behind her. As quickly as he woke up, he went back to sleep. It was only a 30 minute nap, he confirmed so with a quick glance at his phone. He sighed and checked his phone,

“Sent 1 Minute Ago

Got Claire to school, be home soon.”

“Okay.” He whispered to himself before getting up to go to the bathroom. He looked like shit. He’d never been this laid up over the flu before, but he supposed his immune system wasn’t operating at 100 percent just yet. Something about the healing process after almost dying. He managed to muster enough energy to hop in the shower and clean up his facial hair but even that seemed like too much. He crawled back into bed bitterly and looked up at the ceiling. By the time he was back in bed he heard the door jingle open and she called out into the house,

“I’m home!”

“Hi.” He tried to shout back, but this only brought on a fit of coughs. She opened the bedroom door and came over to him

“How long did you sleep for?” She asked him. It was like she was a nurse doing rounds.

“About 30 minutes.”

“Six.” She tisked, “Get some more rest. I’ll wake you up after I’ve made lunch.”

“Yes ma’am.” He took a deep breath and shut his eyes. She stood by his side until she saw the weight of his body sink into the mattress and went down into the kitchen.

---

He jolted up in bed and looked at his phone to check the time. 2 hours and 14 minutes. Better. He got up out of bed and wrapped the spare blanket around his shoulders to walk down to the kitchen.

“Hey.” She turned around to face him, “I just finished… I could’ve brought it up to you.”

“It’s okay.” He sat down at the island, hunched over and rubbing his hands together for warmth.

“Here.” She brought the tray over to him. A roll of saltine crackers, some soup that was warm to the touch but not scalding, and bowl of peeled oranges

“I could’ve peeled the orange myself.” He said to her, popping a wedge into his mouth

“I know you could’ve.” She returned his highly guarded sarcasm with a cold wall that worked just as hard to keep him out as it kept her inside herself. He wanted to break it. He needed to know how she felt… felt about the situation he’d pulled her into. About him.

“Thank you.” He replied after a couple seconds of silence. He took the spoon and blew on the soup before bringing it up to his lips. He let the soup linger on his tongue for a little too long just to make sure his taste buds were still intact. Practically the only sense of his not shot to hell. It tasted… wonderful. It was somewhere between made from scratch and straight from a can but the line seemed to blur. The pulled pieces of chicken were tender, but the noodles weren’t melting into nothingness. He tried to skirt around the piece of celery and carrots that were floating in the broth, until he saw her leaning against the counter with her arms crossed. He looked back down at his bowl and took a spoonful of the veggies up to his mouth. She nodded silently and turned around to start working on dishes. He had to force himself to get the celery down, but he managed to finish it and went back to savoring the fruit. He got up to grab a drink and she pointed at a glass to her side, filled with water. He nodded and took it back to his seat. When he was done with his meal he thumbed around with the cabinets on his side of the island to grab a piece of gum. He wasn’t able to find any so he grumbled quietly and went to rest on the couch. He turned the TV on to just flip through his options. It gave his fingers something to do while the rest of him was bedridden. He decided on something he’d seen a couple of times as a kid and just listened to it. It reminded him of days when he’d watch something with his brother… it was just what he needed to lull himself back to sleep. He woke again a couple of hours later when the house door opened. Clare tried to be quiet, but she couldn’t help running over to Six to tell her about her day.

“Hey, Six.” She smiled at him, “Guess what?”

“What?” He sat up

“You know that math test I was freaking out about?”

“Yes I do.”

“I passed it.” She pulled the paper from her backpack and showed it to him, “I got a couple of answers wrong, but I got the foundation down. I talked to Mr. Garcia about what I could do better next time, and he helped me figure it out.”

“I’m so proud of you.” He gave her head a little scruff, “Didn’t it pay off to work on it?”

“Yeah. You know it’s my hardest subject.” She sighed, “I just hope I can remember it for the final.”

“You will.” He reassured her before she stole the TV remote from the footrest in front of Six. She started flipping through channels before stopping on a teen drama of some kind.

“I know you’re quiet Six, but you’re not normally this quiet.”

“It’s fine Claire.” He replied

“He’s been sick all day.” His partner peaked her head into the room and explained to Claire

“Six.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve been taking care of him all day.” She walked in and put a fruity electrolyte drink in front of him. With his daughter and her looking at him, he took a swig of it and swallowed it down. It wasn’t bad tasting by any means, but his body wasn’t used to it. After he took a minute to grow accustomed to it, he drank it down quickly.

“That’s good.” Claire sighed, “You’ll be okay tomorrow though right?”

“Yeah. It’s just another Thursday.” He smiled at her, “I’m going to head up to my room. Let me know if you need me.”

“I won’t, get some rest.” Claire yelled after him as he was halfway up the stairs. Like a shadow, the woman followed him up the stairs and went to the master bathroom. He heard her rummaging for a minute before she opened the door.

“What did you do?” He raised an eyebrow

“Just made you a bath.”

“You saying I stink?”

“It’s good for the sinuses.” She replied as she got under the covers of their bed and pulled out the book she’d been working on for the past couple of nights.

“Fine.” He went into the bathroom and saw the water waiting for him. He removed his pajamas and sunk in as far as he could fit in the tub. He let his head rest along the edge and took a deep breath. Something peppermint smelling wafted through the air. It was relaxing. Despite having slept the whole day away, he could have fallen asleep there. Would tonight be the night? When he finally let go of all reason and kissed her forehead in a way only a husband and wife should. Would she give into the desperate pleas in his eyes as he wanted to be held all through the night? With a sigh he pulled himself out of the lukewarm water and grabbed a towel. He went back into the bedroom and saw her curled up to her side of the bed, resting her head against the back of her hand on her pillowcase. Slowly he inched forward and as he was about to kiss her cheek, he pulled away fearing she might still be awake. When she didn’t react to him in her space, he laid next to her on his side. He faced away from her and shut his eyes. He felt the weight in the bed shift but stayed still. He felt the tips of her fingers linger along his spine and her face pressed into his back. This being before her lips touched the spot where his shoulders met with his spine. He controlled the shiver he felt as she made contact with him and acted as though he was out cold.

“Feel better.” She whispered, the air pushing against his skin before she rolled back over. Six waited in silence until he knew she was fully asleep before getting up out of bed and walking down to the kitchen.

“I’ve gotta go.” Claire hung up on whoever she was talking to and looked over her shoulder, “Hi Six.”

“Hi.” He replied, sitting down next to her

“Aren’t you going to ask who I was on the phone with? Oh it was just a friend from school, don’t worry Six. Hey…”

“I’m fine Claire.” He insisted, when Claire picked up that he wasn’t responding to her usual dry sense of humor

“No you’re not. Is it because you’re sick?”

“No.”

“Is it because of her?”

“No.” He lied

“Six.” She sighed, “Just tell her how you feel.”

“I don’t have anything to tell her.”

“Well then you should show her.”

“There’s nothing to show her.”

“Six you’re so frustrating to deal with sometimes.” She huffed, “I need to go to bed anyway. Good night.”

“Good night.” He sighed as she left. He grabbed a pack of gum to chew on while he sat and contemplated. He couldn’t keep this up. This would breach every rule he learned in the Sierra program, to let himself be vulnerable with her and tell her how he feels. Still it killed a piece of him every day knowing that she wouldn’t crack before he did. “Why me…” He shook his head and went back upstairs to finish sleeping for the night. He woke up the next morning feeling about as well as he did the day before, if only slightly better. He was able to get up on his own, but at her insistence she drove Claire to school that day again. When she got back she did another check on him.

“Not nearly as feverish, but still high.”

“That sucks.” He sighed

“I’ll make you lunch again.” She said, matter of fact

“Fine.”

“Do you want something different?”

“Surprise me.” He curled back under the covers, knowing she’d tell him to anyway. She went downstairs and started making noise as she looked for an appliance. While she was distracted with that, he decided to hit the shower once more. He didn’t feel like he could nap again even if his life depended on it, so he decided to flip through one of her books she had finished while he waited for the smells from the kitchen to waft up the vents. He lost himself in the book though, because he saw her attempting to open the door while holding his tray of food. He rushed to the door and held it open for her and she quietly thanked him. He nodded and got back into bed. “Smells good.”

“Thank you.” She replied. It looked like she had more to say, but whatever it was she didn’t. He looked over the tray, the soup didn’t have veggies floating in it but was a pureed consistency with a bright yellow base. There were some spices sitting on the top layer, and without bothering to look at what she had put on the side, he dug in. It was warm and comforting, and it felt more nourishing. He put down the spoon and drank it straight from the bowl before muttering about how good it was.

“Thank you.” Her face cracked with a gentle smile. He moved on to the bread on the side, pulling it apart with his fingers and looked over at the bowl of fruit. Strawberries today. Not his favorite, but surely she had a reason to give him those so he ate them with the little fork she had included on the side. She sat on the edge of the bed as he finished up and he pushed it away from himself. “I’ll go take this downstairs.” She leaned in, and Six leaned in towards her. Her body not anticipating this, her lips nearly brushed up against his forehead. They both sat still and she darted her eyes away from his gaze. He took her head into his hand and forced her eyes back up to meet his. He let everything that he felt pour into his eyes before she broke contact and kissed his forehead. He took a hand and brushed his lips over her knuckles. He held her hand against his chest before kissing it once more. She moved closer to him and tilted her head so as to kiss him before he stopped her. When she looked at him with confusion he explained,

“I don’t want you to get sick too.”

“Maybe it’s worth it.” She said before her lips made contact with his. He wrapped his hands back around her neck as he made an effort to deepen the kiss.

“I’ve… fallen for you.” He said, not wanting to admit how long he’s wanted this

“I have too…”

“Be honest with me.” He said, with the implication of ‘Bare your soul to me’

“Yes?”

“How long have you felt this way for me?”

“I…” She didn’t want to tell him, she had built this wall around herself and if she said anything her protection from feeling was gone. Six knew it all too well, which is why he wanted to hear from her first. “The first couple of months after you told me you needed someone to act as your wife was fine. I fell in love with Claire as though she was my own daughter the minute I met her…. And you, it felt as natural as breathing to feel as though we were in love.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve never had to act because I’ve felt from the bottom of my heart that you were my ‘one’. I was just afraid that you didn’t return my feelings.”

“I understand.” He sighed, “I’ve had feelings for you pretty much since the same time. The way you take care of Claire… when you chewed out the admin.”

“You like me yelling?” She raised an eyebrow

“It was cute honestly.” He smirked back, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man in so much fear before. I was a little scared too.”

“You have nothing to fear, my love.” She kissed his cheek with a smile as she pulled away, “Now… you should rest.”

“I should.” He sighed, “But would it be too much if I asked you to stay by my side?”

“How?”

“Just lie in bed with me.” He replied

“Okay.” She put his tray on the side table and got under the covers with him. They stared at each other before Six closed the space between them with her in his arms. She rested her head against his chest for a second before he said,

“I…”

“Yes?” She looked up at him with doe eyes

“I have to tell you, I wasn’t asleep last night… When you kissed me. It gave me the courage I needed to tell you how I felt today.”

“Oh.” She said before hiding her face back into him

“Can you… hold me like that?”

“You want me to spoon you?” She asked

“Yes please.”

“Anything for you.” She kissed his cheek before he rolled over. Her arms were like magnets to his torso and they pulled his back into the front of her body. She moved up in the bed so her head could comfortably rest on his shoulder and she kissed the back of his neck. His hand worked its way over one of hers and threaded his fingers in between the spaces left by hers. He took a deep sigh as he felt the weight in his chest lift. Sure he was still sick, but with her by his side he had a feeling that he’d recover that much quicker.

#my writing #fanfic #fanfiction #my fic #sierra six #courtland gentry #sierra six/reader fic #sierra six/reader #sickfic #caretaking

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rozcdust · 1 year

Text

She’s so mean

Pairing: OC x SSM!Y/N

Genre: Darkfic, Angsy

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: OOC, canon divergent, domestic abuse, manipulation, large age gap, physical abuse, brainwashing

She’s so mean, before she was mean

Read the warnings please!

“He doesn’t love you, you know,” Zankoku whispers in your ear late at night, “If he loved you, he wouldn’t try to take you away from me. You’re happy with me, right? You’re so happy.”

You say nothing as you stare at the dark ceiling in your bedroom, imagining demons and critters running under your feet.

You are sure you’re going insane.

“I love you so much, aren’t you safe here, with me? You’ll never have to do a thing, I’ll just keep you right here. You’ll always be mine, my little glass figurine.“ Zankoku tries to convince you, his nails now digging into your side, his hands wrapping around your ribs and holding you close, so close it feels like he wants to push you inside his ribcage until you become no one, “He doesn’t love you.”

You almost laughed.

Keisuke said the exact same thing about him yesterday on the phone.

“Today we will be learning about recognising domestic abuse in patients, and how to help!” The lecturer announces, a smile stretching her face, inappropriate for this lecture, but you don’t say a thing.

You listen and take notes and listen and take notes and nowhere does the irony hit you.

You live inside a house of a 30-year-old man as a 19-year-old girl, nothing but soft skin and calloused hands and waiting like lamb for slaughter.

He bought you flowers a week ago, and you watch them rot.

If you had some humanity inside you before, he killed it, and now it’s been left to rot like the flowers, deep inside you, somewhere in a graveyard you couldn’t quite reach unless you dug until your fingernails bled and your arms turned black from filth and you feel yourself turning inside out.

Keisuke calls every day, but you rarely respond.

You worry him to death.

You start a checklist of symptoms, a checklist on how to help patients and as you stare at every single boxed ticked, you close your notebook and stop listening, staring out the window.

Your hips and legs ache with bruises.

You won’t help yourself.

He loves you so much, and so what if it hurts? It’s your fault for making him mad.

“Y/n? Y/N! OPEN UP!”

It’s your brother.

He’s banging on your doors, and you barely look up from your phone, notifications with 30 missed calls from him and Chifuyu and an unknown caller you’re sure is Kazutora, glaring at you like a thorn, and yet, you stay still.

The banging grows more frantic, and finally, with a heavy, deafening sigh, you unlock the doors, staring somewhere behind him.

He doesn’t need to meet your gaze.

“What is it, Keisuke?”

He stares at you, eyes wide open and you can feel his eyes searching your form, searching for injuries not hard to find, lingering on the broken blood vessels littering your skin, blooming purple and blue like violets in spring.

Like violets rotting in the vase.

“Y/n, you have to leave him.” He breathes out, his voice gravelly, “Leave. I’m begging you.”

“I’m fine, Kei.” You finally lock eyes with him.

He’s angry.

“Fine?” His laughter catches you off guard, for just a second, and you could swear the bitterness in it is crawling up and inside the walls of your apartment and staying there, like a curse.

“Yes.”

“You’re not fine,” He frantically shakes his head, his eyes having a hard time moving from the bruises on your wrist and forearm where Zankoku grabbed you a couple of days ago - you talked back that time. Bad idea. “Look at you, God, look at you y/n! You- you look dead! He-“ Keisuke takes a shaky breath, “He’s not okay. He’s not good for you. Please, just, pack your things, you can stay with me and Fuyu and Tora, please-“

“I want to stay with him. He loves me.”

Keisuke stares at you in disbelief.

“Love?! Is this what he brainwashed you into thinking love is?! Look at yourself!”

Your eyes blankly focus behind him.

“This is love.”

Keisuke’s hands move so fast, you flinch, taking a quick step back, expecting a slap that never comes as your eyes screw tightly shut.

When you open them, Keisuke stares at you in disbelief, and betrayal, hands left half hanging in the air.

He wanted to grab your shoulders and pull you into a hug, and you flinched away, and now you feel panic raising in your throat.

It feels like you’re a stupid child who’s been caught stealing candy from the corner store.

“This isn’t love, y/n,” He whispers, eyes wide, “This isn’t it.”

You scoff, the fear turning into anger.

“Fuck off, Kei.”

His hands extend to cup your face, forcing you to look at him.

His touch is soft.

“Y/n, please, listen to me, please. Look at me. Do you see a bruise? Do you see any indication Fuyu or Tora ever hurt me? Is there anything on me?”

Your eyes leave his to scan over his exposed skin.

He has a scratch on his wrist, most likely the courtesy of the cats in the pet shop, and a small bruise visible on his exposed elbow you knew he got from bumping into something, and you could already imagine him cursing and rubbing the spot.

You pry his hands away from you.

He was pushing you into a corner, making you more of a frightened animal than a human, and you didn’t appreciate that very much.

Zankoku loved you.

Keisuke is wrong.

Frightened animals pushed into a corner bite.

“You beat Chifuyu black and blue, and Kazutora fucking stabbed you. He almost killed you, Keisuke. Hardly a picture-perfect relationship, don’t you think?”

Keisuke doesn’t say a word.

He only stares for a few seconds, and you could almost see the cogs in his head turning, the urge to yell fighting with the urge to stay calm.

You want him to yell. To get mad. You want him to hit you and tell you how you’re insane, how you’re stupid for doing this, you want him to hurt you.

You’d deserve it.

He leaves without another word.

You close the doors, silence falling over the apartment.

You can finally be alone with ghosts and rotting flowers once again.

You sleep in the bathroom that night.

Zankoku is sobbing on the other side, his knocks soft and cautious as he barely manages to let out strangled, pathetic words.

“Please angel, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, you know I didn’t mean to, right? You just made me so mad, and then I can’t help myself, please don’t do it again, please? I didn’t mean to, I swear I didn’t mean to!”

You turn to look at the closed door, a cotton pad drenched in disinfecting alcohol pressed to your eyebrow, the fresh cut stinging and burning and it feels like comfort.

Of course you know he didn’t mean to.

After all, he’s so gentle with you, he’s the perfect boyfriend as long as you stay in line, it’s your fault after all.

When it’s good, it’s so good, but when it’s bad, you aren’t sure you’ll survive.

“Please, angel, I love you, I love you so so much, please?”

You don’t unlock the doors, but you whisper out an apology and tell him you love him too.

After all, you don’t have to do anything, do you? You’re living the dream, all of your needs taken care of, everything always paid for already, food always on the table and his lips always soft and plush when they kiss you.

“We’ll be alright, won’t we angel?” He whispers, and you agree, voice soft and cautious.

You both know it’s bullshit.

Your eyebrow stings, you’ve made the love of your life sad and your brother will probably never call again.

That’s okay. That’s good.

You and Zankoku will be okay, and Keisuke is better off away from you anyway.

The next morning, there is a red jewellery box and fresh flowers on the table.

There is a golden bracelet inside.

You add it to the overflowing jewellery box.

He knows you can’t wear bracelets as a nurse.

Not that it matters, it’s the thought that counts, right?

You made him mad, he threw a plate at your head, and he apologised.

It’s okay.

He loves you more than anyone else ever could.

And besides, don’t you enjoy this? Don’t you love the rush?

If you hated being a victim, why haven’t you done anything to get out?

He loves you.

He loves you and it shows in his every step, he shows it in the way he cups your face and calls you the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, he shows it by kissing the back of your neck when you ask him to help you clasp a necklace, he shows it with every bruise and every soft caress.

He loves you even with his hands around your neck.

He loves you even when he’s drowning you in a kitchen sink.

He loves you even when he’s bleeding out.

He loves you.

🔖Taglist:

@1818cigarettes @babu-haitani @dilf-city @wakasa-wifey @lagrimasdeglitter-blog @kisekihany @missarabellla @bajifairyy @cryszus @r-xochitl @hana-patata @yukihime-mikeys-girl @toobsessedsstuff @agoddess-inashell @levistiddies @qualitygiantshoepsychic @chilledraft @bontensbabygirl @somniari-94 @yujibhabie @wakasagurl @sup-zfam @nqctre @chronic-claire-universe @rozewayne2005 @dottores @graythecoffeebean @hanmascult @sanzuswh0re @yuushs @little-crow @halcyondaisy @st4rryhae @gvancagamer @passionateuchiha @haikyuu-simps-assemble @hecatve @notsodeadgirlwalking @royal-shinigami @nahoyas-nymph @frogtits1 @netzukochannn @lovelyxsakura @akii-kaze @whydohumansss @itsyournumber1whore @rory-cakes @soushswag @minoozi @aces-high

#tokyorev #tokyo revengers #kokonoi hajime x y/n #kokonoi hajime x reader #ssm

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cvtqr · 3 years

Text

thought you were my good girl?

pairings; erwin smith x f!reader (ft. levi ackerman)

warnings; age gap, masturbation, breeding kink, dom/sub dynamics, thigh riding, slight bondage, degradation, man-handling

f/n l/n, erwin smith’s spoiled little princess. a good girl, always doing anything to make him happy. in his eyes, you were an angel. he loved you, more than he'd like to admit. anything you wanted... you got. no matter what the cost was, you got it without even having to ask twice.

you both lived in a huge, beautiful penthouse. just the two of you. you met him almost two years ago on a sugar daddy website. he was on there, not expecting to actually find someone like you. you on the other hand, were looking for some old guy, just to mess with for sometime, since you needed the money. but the moment you saw someone like erwin, still in his 30s, you were hooked instantly.

“y/n should probably be sleeping by now, you may stay for a few drinks if you'd like.” the taller man opened the front door of the penthouse, holding it open for one of his colleagues.

the penthouse was dark when he opened the door, meaning you were in your shared bedroom, probably asleep. he left you alone all night, as he went on a business dinner. he was home earlier than expected, but told you not to wait up for him anyway.

“i suppose i could.” the raven haired man took his dress shoes off by the front door, along with erwins. “haven't been here in awhile, where's the bathroom again?”

erwin dropped his keys down on the kitchen island, before walking toward the hallway, motioning his head over. levi caught up to erwin, walking behind him. the guest bathroom was just two doors down from the master bedroom.. but he stopped in his tracks, right in front of the door. opened just a crack, the dim moonlight peaked out into the hallway. but that wasn't why he stopped.

“what's wrong-” before levi said anything more, he heard it too. the sound of sweet, soft moans coming from the bedroom. erwin gently placed his hand on the door knob, opening it enough just to get a view of what was happening.

the king sized bed was still nicely made, big plush comforter still tucked into the head board. and you, practically drowning in the big pile of pillows. you were wearing part of a new pajama set that just came in the mail earlier. the slightly oversized, silky tank top hung onto your shoulders. you were wearing the matching pair of panties, but they were shoved to the side as your two dainty fingers were shoved into your pretty cunt. legs open, yourself on display for anyone who opened that door.

you didn't even notice him opening the door, walking over to the bed. no, you were too busy chasing your orgasm as your head was thrown back against the pillows, eyes squeezed shut.

what you did suddenly feel though, was the mattress sinking in. jumping up quickly, you pulled your fingers right out of your cunt.

“erwin-”

“c’mere, now.” he patted his thigh, indicating for you to come over. crawling to the edge of your bed, you hesitantly sat yourself on erwin’s thigh. trying to distract him from what he just saw, you pulled him into a hug. “i missed you!”

“y/n.” he pulled your arms off of him by your wrists, placing them on either side of you. “what did i say about touching yourself without permission?”

giving him a small pout, you looked up at the ceiling. “that i’m not allowed to.”

“and what does it make you?”

“makes me a slut.” you mumbled out the words, barely loud enough for him to hear. “but it was just this once! i swear i won't ever do it again!” since your wrists were still restrained on either side of you, you just snuggled your head into his warm chest.

“that's what you said last time... thought you were my good girl?” you subtly started small movements in your hips, grinding yourself down into erwin’s thigh. “what?i am... am your good girl.”

“really, so when did i tell you that you could fuck yourself into my thigh while i’m trying to talk to you?” not even realizing you've been grinding down obviously faster.. and harder. “wanna cum that badly?”

“yes!” erwin let his guard down for just a moment when you wiggled your hands out of his grip, latching onto his shoulders. you bounced and dragged yourself up and down on his thigh. letting out an annoyed sigh, he placed his large hands on your hips, moving you faster. what you didn't know... he was making eye contact with levi, who was standing in the door frame, leaning casually.

“gonna cum-”

“no.” and just like that, your orgasm was ripped away from you. his strong hands brought your hips to a complete stop.

“quite a performance... and you're always bragging about how good she is for you.”

getting completely startled, you whipped your head around to be face to face with the infamous mr.ackerman, with an obvious growing tent in his pants. for some reason, knowing that levi was watching you made your cunt clench around nothing. “mr.ackerman-!”

“levi.” you were interrupted by erwins deep voice, in a sturdy tone. “no worries, i’ll see myself out.”

and just like that, the raven haired man closed your bedroom door. going home to fuck his fist in a cold shower.

right when the door shut, you were flipped around, right onto your stomach. the growing bulge in erwin’s pants was started to get more and more uncomfortable being trapped in the material. he undid the tie around his dress shirt, taking it into his hands.

pulling your wrists behind your back, he tightly tied them together, keeping them in place. your panties were ripped off, torn it two. it was okay though, erwin would just replace them tomorrow morning. you heard the buckle of his belt undo, and the zipper falling from his pants. “i bet you were getting more aroused at the fact another man was watching you act so slutty.”

“no! i wasn-” you were quickly cut off with erwin’s hand pushing your head down into the mattress. “bad girls don't get permission to talk.”

he used his free hand to pull your hips up, displaying your ass in the air for him. once you had yourself held up by your knees, he took his hand and guided his cock up and down your slick folds, lathering himself in your juices. lining himself up with you, he finally pushed the head of his cock in. you would never get used to the size of him. he was too thick and long, way more than you could ever handle. you couldn't help but moan out, feeling so full from so little.

feeling him push in more, you felt the burn. he was moving quicker than usual, not giving you a chance to tell him to slow down. inch by inch he pushed in until he was balls deep inside you. he didn't have absolutely no mercy though, you were still his little princess after all. he gave you a few seconds to adjust before pulling himself out, and jamming right back in.

his thrusts hurt at first, but quickly changed to pleasure as you felt yourself clamp down onto him. you couldn't help but scream into the pillows beneath you. his thrusts were speeding up, as he rammed in and out of your tight cunt.

“fuck.” he hissed, while tightening his grip on your hip. removing the hand from your head, he slipped it underneath your neck, wrapping it around your throat. he then used the grip to pull you up to his chest, not slowing his thrusts even by a second.

at this point, your mouth just hung open with no words coming out. after a few more thrusts, he pushed you back forward onto the bed, leaning into you as he pounded in your pussy. undoing the tie, your hands were now free.

that didn't last for long though. in one swift motion, he flipped you onto your back, not letting his cock pry out of you. he continued fucking himself into your poor cunt, while pinning your arms down to the bed.

not long after, he pushed your legs up all the way to your chest. he was ruthlessly destroying you.

with the new position, he was hitting deeper and in new spots.

“want me to fill you up, brat?”

“yes! pl...- please want you to fill me up so, so... bad!” you felt your hole spasm around erwin’s cock, not even giving you a second to think as you creamed all over it. it wasn't your fault! you couldn't even control it coming out!

a small ‘tch’ fell from his lips as his final trust allowed him to cum straight into your pussy. after fucking through both of your high’s he pulled out, cum pouring all over the expensive bed spread.

for some reason you enjoyed that more than you should have.

maybe you should rile him up more.

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wienerbarnes · 3 years

Text

A Certain Romance (1/6)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,513

Warnings: fake dating au, mention to past abusive relationship

A/N: im so EXCITED to start posting this series lmk what yall think!!!

MAIN MASTERLIST | A CERTAIN ROMANCE MASTERLIST

He couldn’t quite think of a word to describe the restaurant.

The deep tones of maroon on the walls contrasting against the clean, stark-white tablecloths, tablecloths that have been so deeply washed, soaked in bleach and radiating chemical residue beneath plates of fancy and over-priced dishes for people who have too much money than they know what do with.

Ratatouille is the special for tonight, priced at $32. Side dishes extra, of course.

The overly simple decor on the walls with lighting so dim you’d think they forgot to pay the electric bill, all in the name of minimalism and an art form you just wouldn’t understand.

Bucky has news for them, though. Minimalism won’t get rid of their depression and anxiety, and a $30 plate of vegetables won’t bring you happiness.

His collar feels tight around his neck, even though the first two buttons on his shirt are undone. The longer he stands around waiting for Sam, the more ridiculous he feels. He’s sweating suddenly, and all he wants to do is leave, go back to his apartment, to Alpine, and take off this stupid monkey suit of an outfit.

Where r u?

Should be sitting pretty at a table already. Wearing a cute lil red dress. maybe blue, not sure.

“Son of a bitch,” Bucky mumbles under his breath after reading Sam’s text.

It’s Bucky’s fault at this point. Not only is this not the first time Sam has done this to him, set him up on a blind date and tell him it's him he’s meeting and not a girl, but it’s not the second either. Sam has done this three times, and this is going to be the fourth. How do you let this happen to you four times?

It’s not a surprise either when the date goes horribly all three times, either. The girls are always nice and always beautiful, but Bucky’s in such a sour mood by the time he reaches the table that it’s a failure from the start.

That’s a good word to describe the restaurant. Sour.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for a table under Sam. Or maybe Bucky.” He approaches the hostess, praying that whoever Sam has set him up with isn’t here and that they stood him up.

“Ah, yes, your date has been waiting.” She tells him, and he tries not to roll his eyes.

The walk through the restaurant to the table makes him feel more ridiculous than when he was waiting. He feels all eyes on him and it makes his skin crawl, even though when he glances around, everyone has their eyes on their own date; their date that probably wasn’t sprung up on them by a man who dresses up like a bird for a living.

Careful not to trip over his own feet in the dark room, the only lights being small bulbs on a thin string from the high ceiling, he sees a table that’s probably for him.

The only table with one person sitting alone, he spots you looking down at your phone with a slight frown on your face. Sam was right on his first guess, you’re wearing a deep red dress, thin straps over your shoulders and he can see through underneath the table that it flows down to your calf. Nude heels adorn your feet as they are crossed at the ankle, and he can’t help but feel a little bad.

Just because he thinks minimalism and expensive meals are stupid doesn’t mean that other people don’t enjoy them.

“Hi, uh, sorry I’m a little late.” He greets as he takes his seat.

You look up from your phone and give him a closed-lip smile, an unspoken way of saying it’s alright, but he’s seen that tight smile on too many girls before to know that, no, it’s not really alright.

“I’m Bucky, what’s your name?” He asks, hoping that the sooner he starts the conversation, the sooner he can get the fuck out of here. Respectfully.

As far as introductions go, this has definitely been the most awkward. Neither of you know what to say. Not that he’s about to go around giving Sam advice about setting him up with people, because he certainly wouldn’t want Sam to take that as him asking him to try again, but he couldn’t have set him up with someone worse.

It’s painfully awkward, and he feels himself sweating again, blushing from slight embarrassment at this disaster of a date.

The waiter hasn’t even brought out the bread yet.

He can’t do this.

“Listen,” He begins after a few minutes of silence and the two of them awkwardly glancing around the room, as though the avant-garde art pieces are the most interesting thing either of them have ever seen.

“I’m sorry if I don’t seem like I want to be here, it’s because I don’t. And it’s got nothing to do with you, it’s just that Sam told me I was meeting him here because he thinks he knows best when it comes to setting me up on dates even though I’ve told him countless times that -”

He stops when he realizes you’re laughing. Giggles escaping from behind your manicured hand that’s attempting to cover your mouth, he can’t believe you’re laughing at him. As if the date couldn’t get worse.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt you.” You tell him, the most you’ve spoken the entire night, only really telling him your name and a few one-word answers a while ago.

“It’s just that I don’t want to be here, either. And Sam also told me I was meeting him here, not a date. And I thought that was funny.”

That bastard, Bucky thinks. But he appreciates that it’s the situation you find funny, and not him. He’s never had a date laugh at him before, and as tough as he is, he can’t lie and say it wouldn’t hurt his feelings.

He opens his mouth to say something but another man in an equally ridiculous monkey suit such as his own approaches the table, a basket of bread in hand.

He can’t help but notice how small the breads are and the fact that the butter is individually wrapped in those small tinfoils - not even The Cheesecake Factory does that, they bring butter in a tiny dish - but he doesn’t say anything.

At least now he has something to do with his hands.

The two of you both pick at the bread in your hands, and while the tension is somewhat eased at the table with the confession that neither of you want to be there, it’s still silent and awkward, as neither of you have spoken again.

Bucky doesn’t know what causes him to say it, maybe it's the obligation he feels to keep the conversation going and fill the silence, maybe his mind just insists on making the evening worse, because apparently that’s possible.

“My best friend died. Recently. And Sam’s been setting me up on these dumb dates to take my mind off it.” He says, and he sees out of the corner of his eye your hands pause around the bread and your head lifts slightly to look at him, though he doesn’t do the same.

“Sam was a little better about it at first, using distracting me as a way to distract himself while we both grieve. But he’s got the whole Captain America thing, helping his sister, working with Torres; he got over it a little quicker than I did and… expected me to get over it, too.”

He’s afraid to meet your eyes. He’s not sure why he just told you that, or why he felt like he owed you an explanation in the first place. He doesn’t even know you! What does he care if the date is awkward? He could leave now and never see you again and not feel bad about, and yet he sits here, sacrificing his own comfort in order to attempt to salvage the evening by being honest? Is honesty even what you want?

“My boyfriend beat the shit out of me. If we’re sharing tragic backstories, I mean.” You reply, looking down at your own bread now that Bucky’s head has snapped up to look at you, a humorless smile on your face.

“Had to move states, change my name, the whole nine yards. And while I wasn’t grieving a best friend, I was grieving… myself. My old life. And Sam doesn’t just distract himself by setting you up on dates, he’s been doing that with me, too. And, so, I kind of get what you mean, when you say that other people get over it and expect you to be okay, too.”

Another pause of silence, but the awkwardness is gone now.

“How many times have you heard the phrase, The grieving process is not -”

“Linear? Too many times. If I had a dollar for everytime I heard that, I’d probably have enough money to afford a plate at this place.” You finish for him, a disgusted look on your face. Almost the same look he had on his face when he entered the restaurant.

He laughs, though. The first time he’s laughed tonight.

“Are you two ready to order?” The waiter interrupts again, small booklet in hand, and thick French accent in the air. Of course, the waiters here are French, how is he even surprised?

“Do you mind if we have a few more minutes with the menu?” Bucky replies, not receiving much of an answer as the waiter looks him up and down, gives him a curt nod, and leaves the table once more.

“Listen, I don’t know about you, but this place looks like… I don’t even know, but it just looks sad, and I know a pretty good pizza place a few blocks away. If you don’t mind walking. Or continuing this date as friends?” He squints as he finishes his question, hoping you won’t take it as him playing hard to get, and actually want to be friends and absolutely nothing more.

“You had me at pizza.”

With the bread from the restaurant in hand and his jacket around your shivering shoulders, the two of you make your way down the sidewalk, stomachs rumbling at the thought of cheap, greasy, slices of pizza.

Sitting among people in their pajamas and otherwise casual clothing, it’s safe to say the two of you are the best-dressed people in the joint. Bucky tells you this and you laugh again, agreeing. Slice after slice goes down easily, much easier than any plate at that stupid clownhouse of a restaurant.

The conversation is easier, too. It’s almost like it was so bad before because of the suffocating atmosphere of the restaurant, The Fork, a stupid name for a stupid place.

What was that word he said before? Oh, yeah. The restaurant was sour. The pizza place, though, run by two older, heavier men with ungroomed mustaches and dark pit stains, is much less sour.

“I surprisingly had a good time tonight. I’m really glad we both came to an understanding of not wanting to date due to our individual unresolved trauma and issues, that we should probably be in therapy for.” You tell him, after thanking him for paying the six dollars both your copious amounts of pizza slices cost.

“I did, too. I’m just glad we didn’t have to stay at that dumb restaurant, I mean what was Sam even thinking with that place?” He rubs his fingers over his eyes in lasting disbelief. He’ll never let Sam live that place down.

“Speaking of Sam,” You start, stepping out of the pizza place as Bucky holds the door open for you, “Would you mind telling him that the date went well?”

“I mean, technically it did, didn’t it?”

“It did. But if we tell him that we left with a newfound friendship rather than sore legs and sex hair, he’s just going to keep setting us up on more shitty dates. I mean he’s great, but he does a better job at being Captain America than he does at being Cupid.”

“Agreed. He’ll just keep setting us up with people until we end up dating one of his picks, regardless of friendships made along the way. He’s too competitive, he doesn’t see friendship as a success, only a boyfriend or girlfriend.” Bucky admits.

“So… if he asks, we’ll just say we’re going to go on another date? And then whenever we hang out, we’ll just -”

“Be extremely and explicitly clear about it to him.” Bucky finishes.

They smile at each other satisfied, satisfied knowing they’re finally going to outsmart the bird man, they’re finally going to be done with shitty, last-minute blind dates that they never wanted to go on in the first place.

“Do you need a ride home?”

“Oh, no, my friend’s on her way to get me now.”

“I’ll wait with you then.”

Cheesy flirting ensues as the two of you joke about fake dating, competing to see who can think of the worst pick up line. Bucky feels a bit embarrassed that he probably would’ve used a few of these a few decades ago when he was a fresh, young man, but he doesn’t dare mention that to you. No need to give you more ammunition to use against him, and especially no need to risk you mentioning it to Sam.

Your least favorite, and evidently his favorite, is If happiness starts with “H,” why does mine start with “U”?

He laughs as you dramatically gag on the sidewalk, almost not noticing the car pulling up to the two of you.

“This is me. Oh, here’s your jacket by the way.” You move to take it off from atop your shoulders but he stops you.

“Hold onto it for me. And also, mention to Sam that you’re holding onto it for me.” He winks.

“Will do. Boyfriend.”

“Drive safe. Girlfriend.” He opens the passenger door for you, greeting your friend briefly, and offering a hand out to help you sit inside, closing the door after you’ve clicked your seatbelt.

He watches the rear lights grow smaller and smaller as you disappear down the street, and he begins walking back to where you two came from. His bike is still parked at the restaurant, after all.

That was probably the best date - not a date, friend date - he’s ever been on, and by far Sam’s greatest success yet, even if it’s not the romantic relationship he probably intended.

It was nice to talk to someone without the pressures of impressing them, the intrusive thoughts questioning their deeper motives or what it is exactly they want out of a date with him. He tried engaging in the whole hookup-one-night-stand culture once, and didn’t like it at all.

Not to mention, he’ll never have to go on one of Sam’s set-up dates again! And he didn’t even need to get a girlfriend to do so!

The night couldn’t have ended better, and he can’t wait to tell Sam all about it.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes au #marvel

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blonde-in-charge · 3 years

Text

Wildcard, Chapter Three

Words: 2.6k

Summary: Steve Rogers found you on the side of the road after a mission involving Hydra and convinced the Avengers to take you in. You have no name, no memories, and no idea of what you are capable of. All you know is that you are a super soldier with more hidden abilities than you care to admit. The first step to finding answers was to train you. Nobody, including you, knows what is up your sleeve.

Characters: Bucky x reader, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Random Hydra guy, Sam Wilson

Warnings: Mentions of blood/violence, brief unwanted touching, Cursing, Fluffy!Bucky, Flirting

Words: 2.6k

The table underneath you was frozen from the amount of stress you had been under. They just kept injecting things into you, hoping to get some kind of reaction from your body. You had stopped feeling the pain of the needle and experiments weeks ago, which just made everything worse for you in the long run. They were getting annoyed with the fact you had stopped reacting to whatever painful serum they had injected you with that day and it resulted in beating to get a reaction from you. You stared up at the cracked ceiling of your concrete room and counted each crack for the millionth time. You kept yourself company in your mind, getting lost in your thoughts to pass the time until your next beating. You shivered at the cold beneath you, the last serum made ice bleed from every one of your pores. You heard the shrill sound of the old iron door open from the side of the room, you didnt turn your head to see whoever came in anymore, they were all the same type of evil.

“Your wounds have healed very quickly, you are replicating the progress of our last soldier.” said the thick voice. You hated to think someone else had gone through this hell before you had. You wondered if they escaped or died before they moved onto you.

You felt a burn in the back of your throat, “What's on the menu today doc? Electro-therapy? Waterboarding? New superhuman power that causes injury to one of your minions?” The one fond memory in your head of this place, being your body set itself on fire as well as one of the more hostile minions of Hydra. You smirked fondly at the memory as the hydra doctor worked his way around you observing the healing process. Every wound that opened on your body disappeared within a couple of hours, which is apparently what they wanted.

“Nothing on the menu today, we are going to start to prepare you for the memory wipe.” Was all the man said and you felt your heart jump into your throat as the man chuckled, “You will do great things for us, American Girl.” You started pulling at your restraints for the first time in weeks, trying to fight your way off of the table once again. The man gave you a sickening chuckle while watching you struggle and you glared at him. He reached up to run a dirty hand slowly up your leg, “Such a pretty girl, such a shame you must-” He ended his sentence abruptly as you lit your body on fire, burning the man's flesh. You grinned at him as your body started to fizzle out. He held his burnt hand to his body and looked at you with rage, “You stupid slut.”

You continued to grin as he left the room, feeling somewhat accomplished. Your smile slowly faded as you thought back on the memories they would take from you. Y/N Y/L/N, you were a successful accountant in one of the most successful banks in Manhattan. You lived alone, you haven't spoken to your family since you lost your father. Your mom became an alcoholic after his death, the only thing you really regretted was leaving your little sister, Macy, behind. Your job would have already replaced you by now, and people would have stopped looking for you. You stopped fighting for an escape because you knew you had nothing to go back to.

You woke up slowly to the sound of soft snoring, your body tensed up, wondering who was in your bed. Then you realized this wasn't your bed when you looked up into the face of the sleeping soldier. Your body instantly relaxed as you lay your head back on his chest. His right arm was slung over your waist and his metal arm was holding your forearm against his stomach gently. You closed your eyes, replaying the events of the night before in your head. Hydra had come back for you, but for what reason? Then your eyes snapped open and you looked up at Bucky gently shaking him. He opened his eyes slowly and looked down at you, obviously confused about why he was holding you. Realization dawned on him and his eyes filled with concern, “You okay?”

“Y/L/N.” Was all you said to him as you continued to stare into his steel eyes.

“Who is that?” He asked, raising his eyebrow.

“I remembered my last name.” You said softly to him, “I remember my life before I was taken.”

He sat up quickly and looked into your eyes, “You remember now?” You nodded your head at him, unsure whether you should smile or cry. “Y/N, that's amazing.”

You looked away from him and sat back, “Is it?” you replied solemnly.

“Why wouldn't it be?” He tilted his head slightly, trying to read your thoughts. The sound of the door sliding open cut off your response as Steve came in. Steve stopped in the doorway and examined the scene in front of him. You were sitting to the side of Bucky, wearing his shirt with no pants on, with your legs strung across his thighs. Bucky had his metal hand resting against your calf and was leaning back against the headboard behind him. Bucky’s face turned a dark pink as he realized the situation before taking his hand off of your leg. You remained unphased as you looked over at Steve.

Steve watched you both and cleared his throat, “The safe house is all set up, can you both be ready by 0300?” You nodded at Steve, who glanced back at Bucky before leaving the room.

You both sat in silence for a moment before you crawled over bucky to the other side of the bed, his eyes perked up as he watched you unmoving, “Where are you going?”

“I have to pack my bag, don’t I?” You stood up and raised your arms above your head to stretch out your back.

Bucky started to climb out of the bed himself before he stood next to you, “I’ll go with you.” You laughed softly and chose to not object to his company. He followed you down the hallway to your room and you stopped in the doorway to survey the damage. Your bed hung off the side of the bed frame as if the mattress had been thrown. The drawers in your dresser were all thrown open and all of the clothes were spread around the room on the floor. You sighed quietly and started picking up articles of clothing. You searched around for the SHIELD duffle bag you had before shoving clothes into it. Bucky’s eyes raked across the room, he walked towards the bed and adjusted it to its correct position before picking up shirts and folding them neatly into the bed. You smiled slightly to yourself as you found a pair of leggings on the ground and started pulling them on and up over your thighs. You struggled slightly and then looked up to see Bucky staring at you.

He stilled, realizing he had been caught and looked down at the tee shirt in his hands, “Sorry, guess I got distracted.”

You laughed softly and patted him on the arm, “It's okay Buck, it's not like I don't stare at you sometimes.” You were unashamed of the confession. Sometimes while training you'll watch Bucky in the gym and sometimes, if you're lucky, you'll be able to see him lift his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his face. You would never apologize for that.

Bucky looked utterly confused as you packed the last of your things and zipped up your bag, throwing it over your shoulder. He stood up with you and looked down at you. You weren't a short person, you were taller than most girls but still shorter than all of the male avengers so you barely had to crane your neck up at him. His steel blue eyes looked so much lighter in the moment. You turned away from him and started walking towards the door, looking back at him. “Ready?” You asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, go meet with Steve, let me grab my bag.” You nodded at Bucky as you walked into the living area, ignoring the shattered glass on the floor you followed the voices to the kitchen.

“So she just hopped up on this man's shoulders and took him down like that?” Sam snapped his fingers together to get the point across, “Did Natatsha teach her that?”

Tony shook his head and bit the fingernail of his thumb, replaying the 30 second hallway footage from the night before, “Natasha hasn't moved past the basics of fighting with her, we have been focusing on figuring out what she can do power wise.” Steve stood silently with the three, his arms crossed watching the looped video.

Sam shook his head at the screen, “This chick is a total wildcard.”

You dropped your bag on the ground behind them making them all turn around quickly. You stared at the projection in front of you, you barely recognized yourself. You have never been able to put Sam on his ass in the ring and now you're swinging your body weight around on some random guy? The temperature dropped a couple of degrees in the room as a result of your anxiety. The three men stared at you as you took a step back, you made eye contact with Steve, “Y/L/N.”

Steve looked confused, “What? Who’s name is that?”

“Mine.” You said quietly, “My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I had a dream about it. I know my name.”

You sat at the table along with Steve and Sam. You were staring off at a wall while shoveling cereal into your mouth. You had only been at the tower for about two weeks now and had a good routine with the two men in front of you. You still didn't have a name. You have been going by kid, kiddo, chick, and rescue. You have been searching your brain for a hint of what your name would be. You tried making up names but none of them suited you the way you wanted it to. You listened to the two men bicker over different work out strategies. You stared off at the wall and thought about how you planned on changing your hair color to maybe platinum blonde. You reached out to grab your glass off the table and grunted when it wouldn't budge. You looked up at the two men staring at you with wide eyes before following their gaze to your hand. The liquid in the glass was frozen solid and the glass stuck to the table in a block. You removed your hand and looked at your palm, which was tinted blue, “Well that's new.”

Sam tapped on your frozen glass, “Holy shit, Elsa.” You rolled your eyes and rubbed your hands together trying to maintain heat.

Steve watched you, “Has this ever happened before?”

You shook your head and reached out to grab your glass again. Your strength became too much and the frozen glass shattered in your hand. You remained still as Sam hopped up from the table.

“Jesus fucking christ, kid.” Sam started picking up the larger pieces of glass

“Language.” Steve went into the other room to retrieve a handheld vacuum

You looked down at your hand and saw little cuts leaking blood in the palm, today just wasn't your day. You stood up from the table and walked over to the sink, running your hand under the water. You were getting really sick of this superpower thing. You have broken so many things so far due to the super strength you can’t control. You sighed as you watched the small cuts on your hand knit themselves back together, you would never get used to that. On the brightside, it didn't hurt. You have not felt the pain of anything you have broken or ran into, the only pain you ever felt was the headache that never went away. You dried your hand off and ran your fingers through your hair.

“Sorry guys… Still getting used to,” You held up your hands, “this.”

Steve smiled knowingly, “It's okay, kid. I remember when I received my serum, it took a minute to adjust.”

You gave him a small smile, “Why do you guys keep calling me kid?”

Sam and Steve looked at each other. Sam was the one who spoke first, “You don't really have a name right now.”

“Oh it's Y/N.” You shrugged at the guys and returned to your seat at the table as they stared at you.

“Did that just come to you?” Steve asked while looking at your seated figure, “It kind of suits you.”

“I think it's my name? It just came to me at the sink and its the only name that doesnt make me want to kill myself.” You smiled as the two men started chuckling at you.

“I think I will stick to ridiculous nicknames if you don't mind.” Sam said, smiling at you and ruffling your hair.

Tony wasted no time typing your name into the database to pull up a missing persons profile. A photo was pulled up onto the hologram screen and you silently stared at it. It was you, well at least a version of you. You looked so young, your face was effortlessly smooth with a light layer of makeup, and your mouth was pulled in an easy grin. Your hair was pulled back in a sleek low ponytail and you were wearing a white collared shirt with a blazer layered over it. You started into your eyes on the projection, it felt like looking at someone else.

“You were an accountant? That's boring.” Sam started while eye the photo of you

Tony scanned the photo and then started typing something into the projection. An article pulled up next to the photo, “Y/N Y/L/N, missing for two years, stopped coming into work and her apartment was empty… blah blah blah.”

“Tony.” Steve warned, coming to put a hand on your shoulder. You looked back at him before shaking off his hand and picking up your bag.

“We should go, right?” You ignored the look Steve gave you before you walked to Bucky’s room, knocking on the mangled door

Bucky met you at the threshold of the door, sensing your discomfort, “You okay, doll?” He raised an eyebrow at you

You raised your own eyebrow, “Doll?” Heat rushed to Bucky's cheeks and you smirked at him, “Grab your bag Buck, it's time to go.” You winked at him and turned away to walk to the elevator door. You rested your nag on the ground as you waited for Steve and Bucky to join you. You leaned back against the wall and sighed loudly, your headache returning.

The two men walked together side by side to meet up with you. Steve pressed the elevator button and debriefed you both about the agents who would escort you to the safe house. You and Bucky both nodded in understanding before stepping onto the elevator. Steve made eye contact with you before the doors completely shut.

“Be safe, kiddo.” You smiled at his words as the doors shut completely.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x avenger!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barns imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut #marvel imagine

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ryuu-to-sobakasu-hime · 3 years

Text

Ryuu to Sobakasu no Hime (Belle) Novel | English Translation | Chapter 2

**This is a machine translation. I put it together by extracting text page-by-page from a .pdf version of the Japanese novel, and running it through Google translate. I have only minorly edited some of the more confusing lines to make it more read-able. It is still a very rough translation, but it’s good enough to understand what’s going on. If there is anyone out there who wants to properly translate the novel, I am more than happy to edit it, if you’ll contact me.**

———————————————

Chapter 2: Suzu

"Buhaa!"

I got up from a thin futon and took a big breath.

That made me almost hit my head against the low ceiling. This is a shabby attic in the countryside, with rafters supporting the roof approaching just above the bed. "Ah, ah .... ah ..."

It's morning. The sunlight is dazzling. The feeling of the glittering world up to that point remains. I close my eyelids because I want to reach for the residue. Certainly I was standing at the tip of the whale's nose and singing. Wearing gorgeous costumes, singing freely. When I open my eyelids, in front of me is a smartphone on the sheets with the display turned off. On the dark surface, you can see yourself illuminated by the sun. The faded pajamas I've been wearing since I was in junior high school. Messy hair from sleeping. Half-open eyes.

And the freckles scattered on my cheeks. It makes me very depressed. I sigh. Then, I heard my father's voice from the first floor, "Suzu? What's wrong?" I feel impatient. Of course, this isn't a soundproof room, it's just a miserable 7-year-old girl's room. The only way to prevent the sound from leaking out is to wrap it in a futon. Was my voice louder than usual? If so ... The cold sweat of regret floats on my back. "No, it’s nothing ...!"

I hurriedly reply that while crawling on all fours off the bed. What if he’s suspicious and comes upstairs? No, I don't think he’ll come. I changed into my uniform and went downstairs. I didn't see my father. He may be preparing to go to work. He opened the porch and left the window down to let in the cool morning air. He lightly cleaned the living room and dining room and cleaned up the magazines left on the table. While boiling the water, I put the flowers in the garden in a vase and placed it next to the photo frame in the kitchen. He puts a tea bag in a mug and pours hot water. Steam with the scent of black tea boils. My mother is still smiling in the picture frame today.

I'm eating rice. I was sitting on the porch, drinking tea. Dad, who wore a dark blue T-shirt on his tanned skin, came out to the garage with a backpack containing work tools on his shoulders. "Suzu, I’m leaving." I replied, keeping my mouth on the mug. "... Okay" "What about dinner?" "... I’m fine."

"... I see. Then, I'll go." Dad must have been in trouble. I could understand without looking. The engine of a four-wheel drive vehicle starts. After backing up, it turns back and goes down the slope. The sound of the tires travelling across the pebbles slowly drifts away.

I wonder how long I will not make eye contact with him. How long has it been since I stopped talking properly? I wonder how much time has passed since we stopped eating together. There was a notification sound. A balloon pops up on the screen of the smartphone. "Belle is the best beauty created by the virtual world "U." Languages around the world are translated instantly.

"Very unique and rare song" "Belle's song is full of self-confidence" "The most notable presence in 3 billion accounts"

The text balloons went up one after another, competing for the lead, and in a blink of an eye filled the area around the bell icon. But I have no joy, no sense of accomplishment, no sense of exhilaration. No matter how much attention Belle gets, it doesn't matter. With my mouth in my rimmed mug, I shut myself in my shell. The balloon with one comment swells up significantly. It is one of the functions of balloons to enlarge and display the comments that attract the most attention.

Of the tremendous number of comments, the one that attracted the most attention was "Who is she?" I don't think most people in the world know about it, but Shikoku and Kochi are proud of their rich climate, where the steep mountains that cover them, and of the beautiful blue shining clear streams that flow through the valleys. More than 150 years ago, we produced a number of people who dramatically reformed the long-standing feudal society of Japan, which is also one of our prides. The daylight hours are top class in Japan. Alcohol consumption is also top class. Perhaps because of that, my city’s personality is clear, and is said to be friendly and cheerful. But even in such a situation, some people are dark and are always looking down. One of them is me. My house is in the corner of a village with about 30 houses on the slope of a mountain.

A river called the Niyodo River runs ahead of me, and is connected to the opposite bank by a subsidence bridge. A subsidence bridge is a bridge without balustrades, and is designed so that it will not be washed away even if the river rises and the bridge sinks. I cross it every day unless this bridge sinks. The flow of the Niyodo River is still quiet and blue today. Occasionally tourists come by rental car and take a number of pictures on the subsidence bridge, saying that it's beautiful. It's a nice village, isn't it? They do not know the truth of the area. With the school bag on my side, I go down the stone steps and walk on a steep slope. A neighbor's grandmother who was sweeping and cleaning used to call out to me, "Oh, Suzu-chan, good morning," and so on. But not now. The shutters of many homes are tightly closed.

The number of people who live here gradually decreased as they died or moved to the city. There are many such settlements in the Niyodo River basin. It is said that it is near here that a sociologist coined the term "marginal village" long ago. I've been told many times since I was little that adults say that the number of people has decreased surprisingly compared to the village’s peak population. It is at the forefront of a declining population, declining birthrate and aging society, faster than anywhere else in Japan. That is an unmistakable fact. There is a stop at the end of the national highway after going up the slope. The rusty timetable at the bus stop only shows times in the morning and evening.

It's not yet time. After a while, the bus came. I sit in the usual seat at the back of the bus. No one else is in the bus. Passing through the stops one after another. No one is on board. While the bus is shaking, I dimly look at the bulletin board near the driver's seat.

"This bus route will be discontinued at the end of September.”

I live in a place where no one wants to live. It stands right next to a steep cliff approaching the rough sea. I reach the end of the bus route and transfer on to a train.

High school and junior high school students in uniforms from other schools come in little by little at each station. The closer you get to the center of the city, the less visible the floor is, and the two-car train fills up with customers. An announcement in the car tells me the name of the station I should get off at. I see many students of the same uniforms on the way to school. Together we climb a gentle slope. I am one of them. That gives me a lot of peace of mind, maybe.

The summer sunshine is dazzling. Last fall, the brass band was playing in front of the symbol tree in the courtyard. Many students surround it and listen to it. The announcement of the brass band is always popular. It's not just about playing. All players take steps as they perform. It's a lively and fun dance. All the instruments have the steps perfectly matched, yet the performance does not get twisted or shaken. I and Hiro-chan (short for Hiroka) also listened to it from the veranda on the 2nd floor of the gymnasium. When the first song ended and the second song started, a slender tall, beautiful girl was holding the alto saxophone in front of her. She came out. She shook her long, loosely waved hair and played her solo without any disturbance, taking attractive steps from side to side.

"……Cute."

I instinctively say it aloud. Luca-chan - her full name is Ruka Watanabe – I am sighingly fascinated by the lively beauty of her. I can hear the voices of other girls watching on the same balcony.

"Luka-chan is the princess of our school, isn't she?"

"She’s slim and has long legs.”

"Even if she wears a uniform, she look like a model."

They nodded together, saying, "Right~?”

Hiro-chan has a voice that only I can hear next to me, "The jealousy of kids who are neither thin nor slender...,” turning the pages of her book. The girls' voices can be heard continuously.

"Luka-chan naturally acts as a coordinator for everyone."

"I'm sure everyone will come together like Ohisama," Hiro-chan frowned at the back of her silver-rimmed glasses. "They’re annoying. In that respect, Suzu is like the opposite of Luka, so it's easy for no one to come near us."

"Hi- Hiro-chan…"

"Hmm?"

"You have a poisonous tongue, I wonder if you can be a little kinder....."

"A poisonous tongue? Who?" At that time, a loud voice that interrupted the performance echoed in the courtyard. "Why don't you join the canoe club?" Everyone looks back. "It's Kamishin!" "Kamishin has arrived!"

Kamishin – full name Shinjiro Senzu - has a canoe paddle in his hand and a banner with "CANOE" written on his back, and appears randomly.

"Oh, senpai. What about the canoe club?"

"Wow! Stop, Kamishin!"

"Don't enter, that's it." He chased the boys, and then laughed and ran away. Then, he turned around and headed for the group of girls.

"Hey, why don't you do canoeing?"

"Kya ~~~!" The girls scream seriously and run away.

"Oh, hey, let's do some canoeing!"

"Dangerous, run away~"

He is serious, but the reaction around him makes the Kamishin look like a weirdo. He’s like a beast that jumps into beautiful women and rampages.

"Hey, canoe ..."

Watching the girls run away, I feel like defending the hard work of Kamishin.

"It's amazing to start a canoe club by yourself, isn't it?"

"But he's the only one in it."

"I wonder why.”

"I wonder~”

Hiro turned her eyes to Luka, who seemed to be anxious about the hustle and bustle while playing. Luka stiffened and turned her back to Kamishin as if she didn't want to see him. Hiro-chan does not overlook the gesture. She closed her book and turned her stern eyes to Luka. “You’re being looked down on.”

We left the gymnasium and wandered around the school. Chorus club, biology club, light music club, dance club. Various club activities. The activity was appealing to each. As I crossed the glass-walled corridor, I heard the cheers and applause of the girls from somewhere.

10N1 was held at the one-on-one outdoor basketball court. It is a solicitation performance of the men's basketball club. A ball is thrown into the court for the next game. You can see a boy in a hoodie who catches it with a lean hand.

"Ah ..." The game starts. Shinobu-kun, full name Shinobu Kutake, slowly dribbles and watches the situation. The opponent's senpai is raising his right hand as a checker, being wary of the jump shot. Shinobu lowers his hips. Shinobu tries to pull out with a low dribble, but the opponent's guard is tight and he withdraws. When he thinks he has stopped Shibobu, he suddenly shoots a jump shot from a short motion.

He’s fast. The senior hurriedly reached out with his fingers spread out, but he couldn't reach Shinobu. The previous move was a feint. The ball drew a beautiful arc and passed through the goal net. The girls lined up in the corridor on the 3rd floor gave an enthusiastic applause. But Shinobu doesn't even smile. His coolness is attracting attention from girls in school. Before the applause stopped, the court had already moved on to the next game. Shinobu-kun, while measuring the timing, dribbles low to push the defense away. As if to say that you can't win even with power. If you forcibly cut in and pull out the senior in a blink of an eye, you will definitely go to the layup. There is a pleasant sound of the ball slipping through the goal net. Again, the girls' applause echoed on the walls of the school building. I told Hiro-chan,

"........ Shinobu-kun, I didn't think he would be that tall."

He’s my childhood friend.

"He was your childhood friend?"

"Ohon. Actually, I've been proposed to by Shinobu-kun."

"Seriously? What?"

"[Suzu, I'll protect you], he said.”

"When was that?"

"When we were 6 years old."

"....... Even if such an ancient story is spoken…"

Astonished, Hiro sighed. Another goal was scored. In the applause, Shinobu-kun, who finished the game, went out of the court alongside his senior without even smiling. Shinobu-kun, my childhood friend. He’s no longer within my reach.

I came back from school and crossed the subsidence bridge. I was with Shinobu from kindergarten through the lower grades of elementary school. After that, Shinobu moved to the city and we were separated. He was in my high school and we became classmates again. But it isn’t like it used to be. At that time, I didn't expect to become a child who is always looking down like I am now. There is a reason why this happened. I saw the quiet stream of the Niyodo River. Yes. That is an ancient story. A white bird passed low on the surface of the water.

-------------------

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Dcx2NedPVBEdbfQaU-WC0pJMRmn20ASn7HSC0KY9R7E/edit?usp=sharing ~ Google Doc of the English-translated novel.

ryuutosobakasuhime.wordpress.com ~ English fan-site for Ryuu to Sobakasu no Hime where translations, scans, and other content is posted.

#belle #ryuu to sobakasu no hime #ryu to sobakasu no hime #ryuu #ryu #sobakasu #hime #studio chizu #mamoru hosoda #belle movie #竜とそばかすの姫 #belle 2021

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yournotsolocalcryptid · 3 years

Note

Hello!!! Could you do anything Ben related? We need more Ben concepts in this site 🤧

Thank you!!

Sure can!

this was sposta be a quick blurb/concept but it got away from me and is now one of the longest fics I've ever written lol

fake it 'till ya make it

pairing(s): Ben Hardy x Gender Neutral!Reader

Warnings: sexual themes throughout, avert your eyes, children! 18+. this is barely edited and barely proofread so yeah... I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

Word count: 1.6k

You and Ben have been neighbors for going on a year now and you’d always been friendly, greeting each other when you pass, helping the other carry in their groceries and so on and so forth but most recently every time you spoke, no matter how briefly you ended up commiserating over your new neighbor. A few months ago a man had moved into the apartment closest to both you and Ben. he seemed to always be partying, yelling at the TV, fighting with his girlfriend all of which was predated by or immediately followed by sex with the fakest moans and fakest orgasms you’d ever heard.

You and Ben had joked once or twice about it and had felt bad that she was having to fake it but before too long most of your sympathy had gone, especially after an encounter with her in the hall. You and Ben were speaking quietly and joking around a bit when you heard the door open and you both instinctually looked up to see her leaving his apartment. You both went back to your conversation immediately as you had no reason to keep staring at her or to converse with her. As she passed she glared at you two and you heard her harshly mumbling something about how you two should just fuck already and some not nice words but he was too far away at that point to catch more than a word here and there. You and Ben looked at each other eyebrows raised in surprise before dissolving into giggles.

A few weeks of the same things over and over again went by and one day they were having another very loud fight about seemingly nothing when you heard a knocking on your door.

You peered through the peephole and immediately opened the door when you saw Ben. the second the door was open he said “I have an idea”

You stepped aside to let him in and he plopped down on your sofa. Ben looked around and said, “do you realize I’ve never been in your flat before?”

“Ben?”

He hummed still glancing around

“You had an Idea?’

“Oh, yeah. I think we should shag, or rather simulate shagging”

“Okay…” you sat down next to him, “I think I’m gonna need more information”

Ben goes on to explain his idea which was, in short, to give them a taste of their own medicine and fake a fight and then fake having sex, loud fake moans and all. When he was done with his explanation - which was lengthened by some nervous rambling- you asked,

“Do you think it would work?”

To which he replied with a shrug and “who knows but I think it’s worth a shot”

You somewhat hesitantly agreed and by the time the two of you hatched your plan and discussed some of the finer details whatever hesitance you had was long gone.

So the next time you heard her fake as fuck moaning you knocked on Ben’s door, gulping nervously, and when he appeared you started loudly hurling insults his way which he skillfully reciprocated. As the two of you shouted you wandered his flat, looking at all the things you’ve never seen before having never made it past his front door before. It became increasingly difficult to hold it together and not laugh as this went on. At one point, you heard her moans falter you both started grinning as you continued to “rage” at the tops of your voices. Not too long after that, you heard the “moaning” stop and a few moments later the man said loudly “well what do you want me to do about it?! It’s not my fucking fault they’re arguing now is it?”

When you’d talked this out you had agreed to argue a few minutes after they started arguing then you’d move on to… the next bit. This was the part that made you really nervous. Ben is a gorgeous guy it’s not hard to pretend to be attracted to him but pretending to be having sex with him, trying to make it sound real… that’s the challenge.

“Ugh you’re so infuriating!” ben shouted which was the cue to switch over. But you froze when Ben asked very quietly, “can I kiss you?”

Your eyes flicked to his with your mouth slightly agape. You were completely taken aback.

Ben walked to you “can I kiss you?” he asked again his face inches from yours “I’ve faked sex before but never a kiss. Kissing in films may include faked emotions but the kisses themselves are actually happening” his tone was light and quippy but there was something more in his eyes.

You nodded and your lips touched. The kiss was sweet, then rougher as he got back into character. You broke apart after a moment and he left you breathless where you stood, headed to his bedroom. You drifted after him and found him crawling onto his bed and placing his hands on the headboard.

He glanced back at you and said, “come here love. if we move right the bed will creak and the headboard will hit the wall” you joined him on the bed a mimicked his position. “Ready?”

You nodded and you both started rhythmically shifting to simulate the classic creaky bed, headboard thumping you hear and see in films. Then, you and ben started sighing and moaning and swearing and just generally be as loud as you could. You glanced and ben and found him already looking at you and you both grinned widely and bit back laughter as you kept rocking and getting louder and more obnoxious with your noises. You could hear your neighbors yelling again but you were lost in this ridiculous moment with this ridiculous man and you were enjoying every minute of it. Ben was captivating, his eyes glimmered with joy and mischief, his pink lips were parted from grinning and groaning, and while you didn’t know it, he was just as immersed in you as you were in him.

“Ready for the big finale?” he asked again quite quietly so only you could hear

You nodded again and let out a loud “fuck yes! Ben!” and quietly to him “let’s end this with a bang”

You both started rocking more erratically but still in sync and your sounds followed suit. You slowed and gave a few slow hard rocks, making sure the headboard hit the wall, Ben let out a final raspy groan and you both collapsed back onto his bed. You lay, looking up at the ceiling with only the sound of heavy breathing filling the room. You looked over at Ben just to find him already staring at you and you both broke out into a fit of giggles.

You lay in your bed that night unable to sleep. You found yourself thinking of Ben and that kiss and what he’d sound like when really having sex. Was he really that vocal? Was that final groan anything like what he sounded like when he cums? Your mind wandered and it wouldn’t stop. You glanced at the time, 1 am. Then again, 2:30. You pulled your covers back and slid out of bed. You hesitated as you reached for the handle on your front door, then continued to Bens and knocked. After a few moments, the door swung open revealing a disheveled Ben, wearing a white t-shirt and boxers, and from the glow of his TV, you knew he couldn't sleep either. Neither of you said anything for a while, then you stepped forward so you were chest to chest, his hands cupped your jaw and your lips connected.

Ben took a few steps back and you went with him, your lips still moving with his. You reached out blindly behind you until you found the door and swung it shut. You tugged on Ben’s shirt as his hands were making their way to your ass. He retracted his hands, broke the kiss, and pulled his shirt over his head. His hands went to the hem of your shirt, then he paused and looked at you, his question clear in his eyes. You nodded and he pulled your shirt off as well. Stepped back for a moment, taking your body in, then his lips were on yours once again and his hands gripped your ass. You had a hand in the hair on the back of his head and the other was wandering steadily lower. It slid down his chest and down his abdomen but when you reached the waistband of his boxers you hesitated and he noticed.

“Touch me” he whispered against your lips “please”

And your hand continued on its path, slipping down the front of his boxers and softly down his length. You wrapped your hand around him and the most delicious sound slipped from him. A mix between a whine and a moan, a groan and a plead for more. And the look on his face as you touched him… you hoped to never forget that expression of pleasure and want. Then his head dropped to your shoulder with another beautiful groan.

“Ben?” you murmured “take me to bed”

He complied, directing you in the direction of his bedroom as you walked backward this time, each of you too desperate to let go of the other. His lips reattached to yours as your legs hit the edge of the bed.

“Lie down,” he said, his lips brushing yours as he spoke “let me taste you”

Your knees went weak and you did as requested. His lips trailed down your torso and he pulled your underwear down your legs, pressing kisses to your inner thigh then finally focusing where you needed his attention most and this time, the sounds emanating from you weren’t fake at all.

writing tags: @transeliot

wanna be added to or removed from my writing tags? just lemme know :)

#anniversary celebration #asked and answered #ben hardy #ben hardy one shot #kallan writes #Ben Hardy x gender neutral!reader #gender neutral!reader #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy fic #ben hardy fanfic

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sunflowerspecter · 4 years

Text

absolutely smitten/never let you go

summary: the team finds out about hotch’s secret girlfriend in a very interesting way.

warnings: mentions of kidnapping, nothing too graphic and it’s very vague, swearing, literally so much fluff.

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

words: 4567

note: i just wanted to write soft hotch fic. that’s all.

~~~oOo~~~

At first, you didn’t exactly understand.

“They’re your family. I want to know every aspect of your life. You don’t have to keep me away from the gruesomeness of your job,” you had said softly.

“It’s not that,” he said. He trusted you, one hundred percent, but so much of his life was already shared with his team. “It’s just that I kind of like seeing their faces when I tell them I have plans and then don’t tell them why.”

You laughed, crossing your arms. “Is that so? Did you used to tell them before I came along?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head, “I just didn’t have plans before you came along.” You kissed him, then shrugged.

“I’ll be your little secret, then. Until you’re ready for me to meet them,” you said, and he thanked you, to which you shook your head.

He shared you with Jack, at least, who was a little shy at first, but very quickly enamored with you. The boy was a sweetheart, and you spent many nights a week at the Hotchner’s residence. In fact, you spent most nights at Aaron’s. Most of your clothing and belongings were there, too. You hadn’t officially moved in with him, after thirteen months, but you rarely visited your apartment, except for when you remembered something you had stored there.

You weren’t sure why you didn’t move in officially— you had no doubts in your mind that he wanted you, and that he loved you, or that you wanted and loved him, but you kept your apartment. Maybe you were waiting for him to officially ask you, or maybe you weren’t sure if you should ask him yourself, or maybe you felt you were crossing over some sort of line in your relationship, but for the time being, you would leave it.

It was early in the morning when you woke up to the sound of Aaron’s phone ringing. You were curled against his body, and he reached over you to grab it off of the nightstand.

“Hotchner,” he answered, sleep still in his voice, and you swear, it was probably the sexiest noise ever. One of his arms was still draped over your waist, his thumb brushing against you gently. He listened for a few moments, then said, “Alright, see you then.” You turned over in his arms, looking up and facing him.

“What time is it?”

He sighed. “5:30.”

“Case?” He nodded reluctantly, so you leaned up and kissed him. “I’ll make coffee while you get ready.”

“No,” he immediately said, grabbing your wrist gently, “go back to sleep.”

You crawled out of his arms and out of bed, shaking your head. “I’m awake now, and I won’t be able to fall back asleep knowing you have to work.”

“Marry me,” he said, his entire body tensing after he said the words. You turned to him, your heart beating ten times faster.

“What did you say?”

He flushed, then stood, opening the nightstand drawer. He pulled something out and walked over to you, your stomach doing somersaults. He took your hands in one of his, holding a ring up with the other, and kneeled, saying, “Will you marry me?” You dropped down to your knees, kissing him, pushing your hands through his hair. He pulled back, and you noticed his eyes were watering. “Say something?”

“Oh,” you said, smiling, “yes, Aaron, yes of course,” you said. “Of course I’ll marry you.” He broke out into a smile, kissing you again. “This means you probably have to tell the team now.”

“Yes,” he said, then he shrugged. “After this case.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“I love you,” he said into your mouth. You smiled, taking a breath.

“I love you, too,” you said. Then you sighed. “You have to be getting ready.”

The smile dropped off of his face, but he nodded. “I’ll be home as soon as possible,” he said, and you smiled.

“Now I’m actually going to make coffee.”

You peaked into Jack’s room as you passed, wondering if Aaron had asked for.

After you made coffee, you placed sticky note with a heart drawn on it on a granola bar and slipped it into Aaron’s go-bag. He always forgot to eat on cases. Whenever he got home from a case, you would ask if he was hungry, and he would freeze and nod, seemingly remembering that it was important to eat.

You moved back to his room, grinning at him from the doorway. “I like that tie.” It was a red tie, he wore a red tie all the time, but you liked it.

He smiled and walked over to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “All of my ties are red.”

“No, there’s that blue one you have,” you said, and he slipped his hands around your waist, kissing you with soft lips. “You’re going to be late for work.” You pulled back, but he shook his head, kissing you again, this time for longer, his tongue working in unison with yours. You only pulled back a few minutes later, shaking your head. “You’re actually going to be late,” you said.

He nodded reluctantly, and you walked him to the door. “I love you. See you soon, Mrs. Hotchner,” he said, and you grinned like an idiot.

“Fuck, I love you,” you said, closing your eyes as he kissed your forehead, and then he was gone.

You checked the time on your way back to the bedroom, 6:15 in bright red letters blaring at you. You sighed, weighing your options. You probably wouldn’t fall asleep again, but you could lie there, staring at the ceiling, for a while, if you wanted. You could watch television and make breakfast, if you wanted to do something. There was something peaceful about that morning, where you decided to sit in the living room and read for a while, watching the room slowly fill with sunlight. Something so sure settled in your stomach, the fact that you would be marrying the love of your life. There was something about the adrenaline and dopamine still rushing through your veins from his proposal, mixed with the smell of the old book in your hands and the warmth of the room, that filled you with such a contentment.

You decided to make pancakes for breakfast, and soon you heard little feet padding towards the kitchen.

“Hey, buddy,” you said, and he smiled at you.

“Is dad on a case?” the boy asked, and you sighed.

“Yes he is, but he’s going to be back home with us soon, so don’t you worry.” You set a plate in front of him, and he stared at the ring on your finger the entire time.

A wide grin broke out on his face. “He finally asked you!” Jack said.

You laughed. You should have known. “Yes he did,” you said.

“Dad said I could call you mama, if you’re okay with it.”

You grinned down at the little boy, then wrapped your arms around him. “Of course I’m okay with it.”

“Since I don’t have school can I come to the store with you today?” he asked next, and you hummed, crossing your arms.

“Well, I don’t see why not,” you said, grinning as he yelled with excitement.

~~~oOo~~~

“Both women were at a bookstore the night they went missing, we should check it out,” Reid said.

Hotch nodded, “What do we know about the place, Garcia?”

“Um,” she said, and the clicking of her keyboard could be heard over the phone. “It’s owned by two women, Y/n Y/l/n and Phoebe Martin,” she said. “They both seem to check out, I can look deeper, though—”

“That’s fine, Garcia,” Hotch said, shaking his head. He cursed under his breath, then looked up at his team. “Morgan and Reid, you’re with me. The rest of you stay here.”

~~~oOo~~~

After settling Jack down in the children’s section of the small bookstore you owned, you walked over to the counter.

“Hey, Y/n!” Phoebe, your co-owner and best friend, said from behind the counter. “How are you?”

You smiled at her, “Well, I’m good, but you’re even better.”

“I’m even better?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Please, do tell me whatever it is that you’re plotting before I go get the fire extinguisher.”

“First of all,” you said, crossing your arms, “that was one time. Second of all, no, it’s nothing like that. It’s just that your best friend is getting married, so you finally get to help her plan the wedding.”

The squeal following your statement was so high that a dog next door barked. “He proposed?” she asked, grabbing your hand. “Oh, my god, babe, you’re getting married!” She pulled you into her arms, holding you as tight as possible. “This is so exciting!”

You then recounted the events of the morning to her, and you kept talking until Jack walked up to you, telling you how hungry he was. “Let’s go eat lunch, okay?” you said, taking his hand and leading him to the backroom, where you had packed lunch. You heard the bell on the door ring, and Phoebe saying hello to someone.

“Aaron!” you heard her yell. “Are you here to see Y/n?” You patted Jack’s head and then walked out of the room, grinning as you saw your husband-to-be.

“Aaron! I thought you were on a case?” you said, before you noticed the two men beside him; a thin man wearing a sweater-vest, currently scanning a book that he picked up from the shelf beside the counter, and the other, a muscled man wearing a grey t-shirt and a gun attached to hip, eyeing Aaron suspiciously.

“He is,” Phoebe said, trying to suppress a laugh. You were in quite the sticky situation. Yes, you were now engaged to the man, but you still weren’t sure he wanted to tell his team. You narrow your eyes at her.

“How can I help you, fellas?” you said, trying to meet Aaron’s gaze, but he was looking down at his hands.

The one in the grey t-shirt waited for Aaron to speak, and when he didn’t, he spoke up, “I’m SSA Derek Morgan, this is SSA Aaron Hotchner and Doctor Spencer Reid, we’re with the FBI.”

You didn’t take your eyes off of Aaron, who looked up at you and shrugged. “She knows,” he said quietly to Morgan, and then he said, “A woman went missing last night, Y/n, and this was her last known location. A woman who went missing two weeks ago last night was also here the night he went missing.”

“Oh,” you said, and Phoebe sucked in a breath. “We were closed last night,” you said.

“No,” Phoebe said, “last night was kid’s night, we had a local author here until 7.”

You nodded, then. “Oh, damn, I forgot that was last night.” You took a breath.

“She’s nervous,” Phoebe said. “She doesn’t do well with strangers.”

Another glare at her, and then you continued. “Yeah,” you said. “Phoebe was here, until then, but that was it.”

“Can we ask you a few questions about the author?” Morgan asked. You and Phoebe nodded, giving each other a look.

“His name is James Bryce,” Phoebe said.

“Does he come in often?” Reid asked.

Phoebe took a step closer to you. “He’s come in every week for the past month.”

“He writes children’s books,” you added, biting your lip as you felt your stomach drop. Was he their suspect? Aaron didn’t talk about cases very often, but you had read David Rossi’s books on profiling, and you knew that child predators would be close to children, but these were women. “Oh, god,” you said.

“Did he take that woman?” Phoebe asked, and you looked at her, her face pale.

“We don’t know that,” Morgan said.

“I’m going to go check on Jack,” she said, moving to the backroom. You nodded at her, patting her shoulder as she passed you.

“Who’s Jack?” Morgan asked. “Was he here last night? Would he have—”

“He doesn’t work here,” you said, too quickly. You glanced at Aaron for just a second, then came up with the first lie you could think of, instead going the not-exactly-true-but-not-a-lie route, saying, “He’s my son.” Damnit.

You could see Aaron smirking out of the corner of your eye, but you didn’t dare look at him. The room was quiet for a moment, before Spencer decided to speak up.

“That’s actually such a coincidence, Hotch’s son is also named Jack!”

“Is it rare for people to name their kids Jack, pretty boy?” Morgan asked, and Spencer answered him, but you didn’t listen. Your eyes were focused on Aaron, who was staring right back at you.

Meanwhile, Jack wandered out of the room.

“Mama, can I color?” he asked, then looked up and saw his father. You caught him smiling, probably at the name that Jack had given you. “Daddy!” he said, and you watched as Aaron shifted from work-mode to dad-mode in a second.

“Hey, buddy, how’s your day going?” he asked, and you looked up to Morgan and Reid, who were both wide-eyed. You kept your hands folded behind your back.

“I’m good,” Jack said. “Are you on a case? Mama said you were.” He certainly had no problems calling you Mama instead of your name— you wondered how long ago he and Aaron had talked about it.

Aaron sighed. “Yes, I am, but this case is in town, so I’ll be home tonight.” Jack nodded, and both of your boys looked up at you. You smiled down at them and Jack jumped over to you as Phoebe walked in from the back room. You put your hands on the little boy’s shoulders as he watched the adults.

“Hold up,” Morgan said. “What’s happening here?”

Spencer looked even more confused, but he didn’t say anything.

Phoebe giggled, just a little, but you were too glad that the color had returned to her face and that she didn’t look a few seconds from crying to mind.

Aaron looked to Morgan and Reid, then sighed. “I haven’t been completely open with the team,” he said.

“You make it sound so grim,” you murmured, and he looked back at you. Not helping. You shrugged.

Aaron was about to say something, but Morgan got a phone call. Reid turned to listen, and Aaron turned to you, his back to his team.

“This isn’t how I expected them to find out,” you said quietly, giggling. Aaron shook his head.

“This is fine,” he said, and you knew that he was trying to convince himself, not you.

“So, I don’t know what’s happening here, but we have to go,” Morgan said. “We will be discussing this when we get back, though.” He opened his mouth to say more, but then his eyes found Jack, and he shook his head. “It’s bad.” Keeping one hand on Jack’s shoulder, you pulled Phoebe to you with your free arm, her face going pale again. Aaron nodded, then bent down to say goodbye to his son.

He took a step, then looked back at you. “Go,” you said, and he nodded, following his team out. You looked down at the people beside you; Jack, on your leg, and Phoebe, curled under your arm. “Jack, how about you go show Phoebe your art skills?” He nodded, taking Phoebe’s hand, and she muttered a ‘Thank you’ to you.

~~~oOo~~~

That night, Aaron came home and held you. You had put Jack to bed earlier, and were sitting at the table, waiting for him, and when you stood to greet him, he pulled you into his arms and didn’t let go.

You waited a few minutes, reveling in the feeling of him, moving your hands over his shoulders, wrapping your arms around him, and then you asked, “What happened?”

He just shook his head.

You pulled back just a little to look at him, and his face was wet. “Honey,” you said. He shook his head again, taking a deep breath, but it didn’t help, and he broke down again, and you pulled him back towards you.

A few minutes passed, but you weren’t in any hurry to move. “I’m sorry,” he said, untangling himself from you, taking steps backward.

You moved forward, grabbing his hand and holding it to your chest. “You have nothing to be sorry for, my love. Nothing.” You shook your head. “You need sleep,” you said, lifting his hand to your lips and kissing his knuckles. He nodded, bleary-eyed, not putting up any sort of fight when you led him to your room.

He didn’t say anything as you helped him out of his clothes and into pajamas, and he didn’t say anything when you tucked him into bed, and he didn’t say anything when you curled up next to him.

“I love you,” you said.

“I love you, too,” he said, turning to you. He reached for you and pulled you closer to his, tucking your head under his chin.

“Sleep well, my love,” you said, and he hummed in response. You didn’t fall asleep until you heard his breathing even out, and you whispered his name once to make sure he was out until you allowed yourself to rest.

~~~oOo~~~

It was a week later when the team was getting together at Rossi’s. Aaron said you should come, and meet everyone, especially because Morgan and Reid wouldn’t shut up. So, you were standing in front of Rossi’s door, Jack and Aaron on either side of you.

Rossi answered the door, a smile on his face, until he saw you, and he raised an eyebrow. His gaze dropped to your hands: Aaron’s fingers were interlocked with yours, and Jack’s small hand was held in your other hand.

“Storytime,” the man said, gesturing for you to come in. Jack immediately ran over to say hi to Henry, and you realized the entire team was already there. You recognized each and every one of them from photos, and you were pretty sure you knew all of their names. They all looked up to you, and Reid even waved.

“Hi, everyone,” Aaron said, squeezing your hand. “This is Y/n.”

“Hi,” you said quietly.

After a moment, the team all smiled at you, and all introduced themselves. Penelope gave you a hug, and that’s when Spencer noticed the ring.

“You’re engaged?” he said, and you blushed pink.

The team went silent, and you were worried that they hated you. But then Emily laughed.

“Wait, so how long have you two been together?” JJ asked.

“Thirteen months,” Aaron said.

“He proposed last week,” you said, and the team all shared a look, and then Emily laughed again.

“That’s why you’ve been nicer to me!” she said, punching his arm. Then she gave you a hug, and said in your ear, “He’s so uptight all the time. You’ve had a very positive affect. Thank you.”

Morgan shook his head. “This explains so much about the bookstore.”

“What bookstore?” Penelope said, and Morgan threw his arm around her as everyone began to settle on the couch.

“The one we went to for the case last week. Ms. Y/n here works there,” he said.

“I own the place,” you said, smirking, and Morgan flashed a smile at you.

“So she’s accomplished,” he said, and you laughed.

“I understand not telling the team,” Rossi said, “but what about me? Why didn’t you tell me?” You almost worried that he was hurt, but his tone suggested that he was kidding.

“Because if you knew, then the team would catch on. Do you not remember your first week? When a few certain people—” a pointed look at Emily, Morgan, and Reid “—decided to raid your office?”

“They couldn’t have raided my brain!” Rossi said, and Aaron tugged a little on your arm, pulling you towards the couch, where everyone was arranged haphazardly, Emily and JJ thrown over each other, leaning against Penelope’s knees. Will was sitting on the ground beside them, laughing (but if you looked closely, you could see that he was holding JJ’s hand. You hoped that would be you and Aaron when you were married). Morgan was sitting beside Penelope, and was also practically thrown over Reid. Children. The actual children, Henry and Jack, were sitting beside Will, who was entertaining them with a toy truck.

“Aren’t you profilers?” you said, and Rossi sighed, shaking his head.

“Can we watch a Disney movie?” Penelope asked, and you looked over to see that she had the remote.

There was a unanimous yes that went around the room. You ended up watching the Aristocrats. You curled yourself into Aaron, your head on his shoulder, your legs draped casually over his lap, his arm around your shoulders. At some point, JJ had untangled herself from Emily and was curled against Will, so halfway through the movie, Emily found herself lying beside you, her head in your lap. You almost laughed at her, but just smiled, because these people already felt like your family.

By the end of the movie, most of the team was asleep, and your heart went out to the poor, sleep-deprived BAU. You untangled yourself, seeing that you and Will were the only ones awake. You found a blanket and threw it at him, and he promptly began covering those in proximity. You looked around, finding a few other blankets, and throwing them onto your friends. Jack woke up, and Will pointed him to you.

“Hey, bud, everyone’s asleep,” you said. He nodded, and you picked him up. He settled his head on your shoulder. You sat back in between Emily and Aaron carefully, letting Jack lie half on you and half on his father. He drifted off rather quickly, and you held him in place with your arm as you set your head on Aaron’s shoulder, kissing his cheek.

“I love you,” he murmured quietly, and you smiled.

“I love you too, babe,” you replied. “I’m glad I met your friends.” You looked down at Emily, who was curled up in a ball next to you, and then Morgan and Penelope, their heads resting together, and Spencer, laying on the floor with his head on Morgan’s knee, and Rossi, asleep in the arm chair, and JJ and Will, asleep with Henry between them.

“I’m glad they met you, too,” he said, and you kissed him, running your free hand through his hair, eliciting a soft noise from him. His eyes were closed, and you could tell he was exhausted.

“Sleep, my love,” you said, and he wrapped his arm around you, bringing you closer to him.

“We’re all going to wake up sore,” he said, but he moved so that his head was resting on top of yours.

“But at least you’ll have slept,” you said. He hummed, and you smiled. He was so soft, when he was tired. He was soft around you, most of the time, but especially when he was tired. He was right, though. Most of the team would wake up and regret falling asleep. You had half a heart to wake them up; Rossi had so many spare bedrooms. But there was something comforting about this family, that you had only met a couple of hours ago, surrounding you.

So you didn’t do anything but lie there, holding the man you loved and his—your—son in your arms.

~~~oOo~~~

Maybe he was a little bit right, because you did, in fact, wake up sore. You blinked your eyes open to find Morgan and JJ talking quietly from their positions, Rossi nowhere to be found, and the rest of the team asleep. Jack and Henry were sitting at the table together, racing cars. You could tell JJ and Morgan had told them to be quiet.

“Hey,” you said, sitting up from your slumped position. Aaron’s arm slipped off your shoulder to your waist, and you realized he was still asleep.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve seen him as happy as he is now since Jack was born,” Morgan said, looking at you.

You smiled, and then looked down at the sleeping man.

“I just can’t believe he kept you from us for thirteen months!” JJ exclaimed quietly. She shook her head.

“And how long did you keep Will from us?” Morgan said, raising an eyebrow at her. She frowned, and you laughed.

“There’s definitely a story there,” you said as Rossi finally reappeared from the kitchen, where he must have been.

“If you three will kindly wake up our sleepy friends, I made breakfast,” he said, motioning for Jack and Henry to go into the kitchen, which they did. Morgan took Penelope and Spencer under his care, shaking them both gently awake. JJ had already woken Will up, so you turned to Aaron. Part of you felt bad for waking him, but another part of you was hungry, so you shook his shoulder gently and kissed his cheek.

��Hey, love,” you whispered in his ear until he was stirring. He hummed, his arm tightening around you as he gained consciousness.

“Hi,” he mumbled before his eyes were open, and then he sat up, glancing around. “What time is it?”

“Like, 9:30,” Morgan said, and Aaron huffed out a laugh.

“Where’s Jack?” was his next question, looking over his shoulder. His demeanor was calm, and you could tell he wasn’t panicked, because he knew if something was wrong, you would be panicked as well, but there was a certain unease to his tone.

“With Dave, in the kitchen,” you said. He nodded, then grinned at you, pressing his lips to yours slowly. You could feel the eyes of the half-asleep team on you, but you couldn’t find it in you to care.

“I’m going to go say good morning to him,” he said, and you nodded, turning to the group as he left.

Penelope, who was now fully awake, was making heart-eyes at you. “You guys are so cute!” she said, and you blushed. “He looks ten years younger when he’s around you.”

You weren’t exactly sure how to respond to that, but you looked to the entrance of the kitchen, thinking about him. You hadn’t known any other side of him. Sure, you saw the changes between work-him and home-him, but you hardly ever saw work-him. When he was with you, he allowed himself to be vulnerable.

Emily woke up, then, blinking rapidly for a few moments. “This is a comfortable couch, but you guys are never letting me sleep like that again. Everything hurts.” You laughed, and she grumbled, saying something about getting coffee before leaving the room. The group of you decided to follow, even as Spencer was still asleep.

“Pretty boy doesn’t get enough sleep, anyway,” Morgan said, and you just nodded. In the kitchen, you found Aaron standing and talking to Rossi by the island. Henry and Jack were eating pancakes at the table a few feet away. You stood beside Aaron and he automatically slipped an arm around your waist.

“Honestly, we’re supposed to be profilers. How did we not see this?” Emily said, nodding towards you.

“I’m mostly surprised Spencer and Derek didn’t bring it up,” you said.

“We were confused,” Morgan explained. “Our boss's son was calling some woman we had never met ‘mama.’”

“And you didn’t think to tell the rest of us so we may figure it out with you?” Rossi said, and you all laughed.

“I think we’re ignoring one important detail,” Penelope said. Everyone glanced at her, and she sighed. “They’re getting married! When’s the wedding?”

You let out a breath and laughed. “He only proposed last week, we still have to decide.”

“Sooner, rather than later, I hope,” Aaron said, and you grinned up at him.

Sooner rather than later indeed.

taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed or if i forgot you): @quillvine @winterscaptain @agenthotchner @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @andreasworlsboring101

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

500 notes · View notes

enigma-im · 3 years

Text

Something About Her

Rating: General Relationship: Alien x F!Human Warning: Meet-cute, Stowaway on a ship, Confessing feelings, fluff

Word Count: 2756

Little stowaway endears herself to the ship's captain via botched escape attempts

-------------------------

The captain is far too busy. Working upon a freighter has never left room for idle joys. Every second is spent working for this poor man. Even conversations from his workers are sorted by category: important and not. If it can be handled without his help then he can't bother to remember it. Like his head of security informing him of a stowaway found in one of the unused rooms near the storage is. Once he said that it would be dealt with then he mentally threw it into the 'finished' bin.

Sorting through messages as he walks down the hall he barely pays anything a thought besides the tablet before him. Reaching a fork in the hall he looks up faintly hearing the pitter-patter of bare feet rushing towards him. Looking ahead he catches eyes with someone he doesn't know. The two freeze mid-action, looking to one another confused and cautious.

A woman stands before him, looking outlandish in her ragged clothing on such a prestige ship. She seems well into her age, around 30 if he had to guess based on his limited knowledge of humans. Her hair is wild and untamed like she has just woken. The captain would argue it still looked appealing though unkept. She was all-around attractive to the captain's surprise.

"Hello," he greets conflicted on what to do. A smile tweaks her lips for a moment before voices call from down the hall. The woman jumps into action, running away out of sight down the hall. The captain watches amused as his men run after the female, calling out to her in frantic attempts to cease her escape.

With a snort of a chuckle, the captain eagerly follows the crowd.

ouououo

The next time he meets the strange woman is in his office, a place he assumed was impenetrable to unwanted visitors. He is working at his desk like every day, growing strained at the hours of uninterrupted focus. He is startled by a loud thud by the corner of his room. A thin vent by the wall catches his attention, the noises seemingly coming from there. A critter couldn't have possibly gotten into the walls, right? They haven't been planetside in months, there is no way one founds its way on the ship.

The grate pops out from the floor, a hand following it as it claws at the floor. Another hand soon follows and then a head. The woman gasps as she rests her cheek on the ground, panting from the experience.

"You do know I have a door," the captain joked, smiling to himself. The woman snaps her head up, looking at him frightened. He chuckles, amused beyond belief on how this human managed to crawl through such a small hole. The way her shoulders are pinched strangely tells the captain that it was no easy feat.

After a moment of staring does the woman attempts to crawl back through the vent, shimming frantically. The captain jumps up out of his chair, reaching down and grabbing her arm.

"Now there is no reason to kill yourself going back down there," he scolds. She fights him till her hips tug on the walls of the vent. With a sigh she crawls out, standing before the captain with a stubborn amount of determination. He snickers to himself, adoring her more and more.

"Relax, take a seat," he walks back to his desk, pointing towards the chairs in the room. Confused, the woman looks around for some sort of trap before sitting. The captain plops into his seat, looking to her with an unrestrained smile.

"We haven't been properly introduced," he starts," I am Captain Reebok of the eighth division freighter."

She snorts, "reebok?" He can't help but grin when she says his name.

"That is me," he bows slightly.

"Your name is a shoe brand," she chuckles. He tries to take offense but her laughter numbs that feeling. He lets it pass, resting his head on his fist as he admires her.

"And who might you be," he asks. She stiffens, eyeing him skeptically. He can see the urge for her to run, it's written all over her tense shoulders.

"Monica," she spits out.

"It's lovely to meet you, Monica," he smiles.

uwuwuwuwu

The little human has made herself quite the menace on the ship despite everyone's constant reassurance of her safety. Her denial to speak with everyone has gotten them nowhere in figuring out where she is trying to go, or if she does intend to get somewhere. Though the captain and she have a tendency to cross paths. Those moments seem to be the only time she sits still, talking with him for a while before the crew comes to find her.

With a last-ditch effort, the crew keeps her in a heavily guarded room. No means of escape possible according to the security officer. The arrogant man is so confident in himself with this proclamation.

The captain makes his way down towards Monica's new room, eager to speak with her again. He meets up with the officer on the way, listening to him praise himself for keeping the sneaky human still for days now. The captain hears a bell of foreshadowing ringing every time the officer gloats about his measures.

The officer unlocks the door, smug as he walks in. The captain can almost hear a bell go off again as the officer walks out confused and angry.

The officer looks to his workers," where is she?" The captain bites back a snicker. The two guards look in the room, confused above all else. The three begin arguing, frantically looking for her while the captain takes a leisure stroll down the hall.

He looks to the ceiling, grinning like a fool as he stops. The officer quits his yelling to watch the captain reach up towards the ceiling. He hits a panel, knocking it off with a loud clang. Quickly he jumps up and grabs something, a startled squeak echoing through the hall.

The three security workers watched dumbfounded as the captain cradles the human in his arms, laughing as she huffs in defeat.

"Hello again, miss Monica," he sets her down," I can't wait to hear how you managed to get out this time."

"Wasn't hard, just tedious," she grumbles as she dusts off her shirt. Reebok shakes his head amused before waving her with him as he walks back down the hall.

"Come, I have lunch awaiting us," he says as she trots up beside him.

"Did you get those little cookies," she asks eagerly.

The three security guards watch completely bewildered as the duo walk ahead. They chat amicably like she wasn't just caught trying to escape once again. The officer sighs, this girl is going to be the death of him.

Ououou

"So why are you making my crew run around like a bunch of fools," Reebok finally asks. Monica expected the question at some point, surprised he was more interested in talking about other things first.

Monica lounges back on the couch, looking at reebok upside-down. "At first because I was scared. Stowaways aren't treated well, in my experience. Now, it's for fun," she says as she hangs her arms over the edge to touch the ground.

"I'll admit, watching my head of security get all red-faced is nearly the highlight of my week," he smirks. He fiddles with some work, having not intended to entertain this evening. Though she is currently hiding from the crew, what was he to do but take her in?

"What is the highlight of your week then, if not officer grouchy," she asks. Monica twists onto her stomach, watching him. He works on his tablet, looking as if he isn't paying attention.

"Catching you mid escape. I always adore the conversation after when you explain what happened," he nods to himself," it's not like there is a lot that goes on here besides work. I think the crew secretly enjoys chasing you around, gives them something to do besides stand about."

Monica smiles wide. It's nice to feel wanted for once.

"Is it honestly so boring around here that my company is wanted, even delighted in," she jokes but truly asking.

He shrugs," I don't think it's the sole reason. Speaking for myself here when I say that having you around has been a treat and if offered any other company I'd choose you every time."

"Flirt," she flusters, turning on her back to look at the ceiling. The captain finally sets down his tablet, admiring the woman. He didn't intend to sound flirtatious, it was the truth. He enjoys having her around, even thinking about offering her a job here instead of dropping her off at the next station. Yet, does his feeling go farther than casual feelings? Did he accidentally flirt with her? He hasn't done that in years.

He ponders this well after she sneaks off.

Ououou

It's a good few days of silence that unnerves the captain. He hasn't seen hide nor hair of miss Monica and it's starting to grate on him. It seems that the crew hasn't seen much of her lately either. The revelation that Monica is truly missing shakes the whole crew.

The day they realize she is gone is the day they drop all their work and look for her. The security workers ask everyone the last time they caught her snooping around. A lot of 'he said she said' tells that Monica was last seen a day ago, but only just barely. The captain looks high and low for her, meeting up with the head of security for updates. He is truly worried, feeling panicked at the idea of her hurt somewhere on his ship.

It's late in the day cycle when he finally finds her. He nearly misses her, walking past a room he previously scoped out. Doing a double-take he finds her in a low storage room sitting on the table that rests in the center of the room. She is holding her legs to her chest, resting her chin on her knee. The captain sighs, releasing the tension for just a moment.

"Monica," he says, entering the room. She snaps her head up, meeting his worried gaze.

"oh, hey," she fidgets, unclasping her legs in favor of sitting cross-legged. It picks at Reebok that she is looking towards the floor now, not smiling like she usually does. He stops near the table, giving her a once over in hopes of observing what's wrong.

"We've been looking everywhere for you, no one has seen you for a few days," he explains smoothly, keeping his tone low. The timber comforts Monica.

"Sorry," she grumbles," I just wanted some time alone." he nods. The captain understands wanting to be left alone, it's what a lot of his workers crave when crammed together on this ship for months on end. Yet, this is different.

"Is something wrong," he asks.

She shrugs," kind of?"

He ducks down to meet her eyes," do you wanna talk about it?"

She shrugs again, shifting on the table to make room. Reebok catches on, climbing onto the table. He feels a bit ridiculous sitting up there instead of in one of the chairs littering the room but he can't bring himself to care. Instead, he waits patiently for her to speak.

"I'm worried," she starts," I've been here far longer than I meant to. I barely noticed till shortly after leaving the first waystation. It sort of just hit me then. I have never been on a ship this long. Hell, I haven't been caught in so long. Being a stowaway has become easy, jumping from ship to station and back again. That was my life. Now… now it's different. You guys don't treat me like a parasite stealing your food and using you for free rides. Despite the rocky start, you guys are nice. I like it here…"

"And that scares you," he finishes for her.

"yea," she sighs, dropping her shoulders," I like the crew and the mischief they get into. I like the security guys who run around like idiots all day trying to keep up with me. I also like you."

"because I hide you from the idiots trying to keep up with you," he jokes. He manages to get a smile from her, warming his heart.

"No, I just like you," she answers, looking to him," I really like you and I think that's the scariest thing of all."

Reebok is truly caught off guard at this moment. He stares dumbfounded at her, his heart running like a racehorse. So awestruck that he can't even figure what to do. The absents of a reaction rips at Monica, making her curl into herself.

"But that's ok if you don't have those feelings, I just wanted to get it out there. I was planning on leaving at the next station, which I heard is where you guys unload all this stuff. Was kind of funny actually, getting rid of storage while getting rid of the stowaway," she rambles on. Reebok would find this adorable if it wasn't so alarming. Hearing her admit her feelings is euphoric, but hearing her plans of leaving is like a cold shower.

Reebok reaches over and grabs Monica, spreading his legs to tug her between them. He hugs her, cradling her to his body. Her little hands press against his chest, feeling his heart pulse quickly against her palm. He presses a little kiss to her hair, gaining some courage before speaking.

"I don't want you to go," he starts," I've had more fun with you here these past few weeks than my whole time serving for this ship. I want nothing more than for you to stay, work for me, and be a part of my life. I like you, Monica, more than I'm willing to admit right now."

She stiffens, shoulder bunching and fist clenching, as he speaks. The words sounding like a melody to her ears.

"You like me," she asks with glee. Reebok pulls her away to look at her, smiling with a gleam in his eyes.

He presses a kiss to her cheek," of course I do, I'd be a fool otherwise."

Monica flusters, reacting with giddy as she grabs him and kisses him. He grunts, startled before overjoyed. He kisses her back, holding her dear while trying to fight back a wide smile.

"I want you to stay," he parts long enough to say," will you work for me?"

She chuckles, resting her head against his," what a weird proposal." he flounders at that, sputtering on his words. She stops him with a kiss," I'll work for you."

They sit amicably on the table, Reebok holding her as she drifts off to sleep. It seems this problem has weighed heavily on her shoulders for a while now, keeping her up. Though he rather she slept in an actual bed he can't deny wanting her in his arms more.

Steps echo from down the hall, bursting the private bubble they made here. Reebok looking over to the door catches sight of his head of security followed by two guards. He walks through the door, ready to speak before Reebok shushes him. The guards look from him to her, softening as they watch her sleep.

"Glad you found her," the head of security whispers," I'll let the crew know."

Reebok nods," can you also get some employment papers set up?"

He smiles," of course. Glad to have her aboard."

Reebok waves them out before scooting off the table, holding her as he walks out the room. He walks her towards his quarters, letting her rest in his bed for the time till her room can be arranged. Setting her down he tucks her in. He takes a moment to admire her, feeling calm at the view. With a sigh he turns away, thinking about all the neglected work piling up. A hand stops his retreat.

"Don't go," Monica grumbles half asleep. Her hands drop as she fully fades back into slumber, leaving reebok with a choice. He looks to the door then back to her, sighing in clear defeat as he kicks off his shoes.

Reebok crawls into bed behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist and falling lax into the bed. Monica clenches his hand in hers, holding it close to her chest with a satisfied hum.

"Night," he kisses her shoulder.

"Night," she mumbles back.

------------------------------

Taking next weekend off for posting, be my first weekend this year I won’t post original content. I’m taking the time to finish up the ‘12 tropes for christmas’ stories. I so far have 7 out of 12 done and i’m excited to get them out on Dec. 14th - 25th.

Check out my Archive | Masterlist | Main Blog

#meet cute #alien boyfriend #alien x human #exophilia #monster boyfriend #Enigma-IM #fluff

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meaningofmischief · 3 years

Text

Evil, Lying Scourge

Set immediately after the battle in the Timekeepers’ chamber. Loki and Renslayer go toe-to-toe as Loki creates the ultimately confronting conditions to force the truth of Sylvie’s Nexus Event from Renslayer.

The truth is devastating - can Loki and Sylvie survive it?

Loki and Sylvie were traumatized - that was near the only way to put it.

Hours ago they had resigned themselves to die together on an exploding moon.

They had been forcibly yanked into the clutches of the TVA at the last possible minute, restrained, separated, each subject to individual psychological tortures as all their remaining tatters of stability and freedom and friendship were ripped away from them one by one. Both prepared to meet their ends together again, and now even their impossible escape was ice cold comfort as they both examined in horror the head of the mindless android they had taken to be one of the three all-powerful Timekeepers.

Not to mention the barely suppressed passion each felt for the other that roiled away like a wildfire between them - burning both the longer it went unacknowledged.

‘Then who,’ Loki’s voice broke for stress, ‘created the TVA?’. Sylvie felt choked by a sudden rage. Hurling the head of the android viciously across the floor of the chamber, she spat: ‘I thought this was it.’ They both had, of course.

A low moan startled them and they whipped around, mirrors of defense for the next attack, but the despised Ravonna Renslayer still lay passed out cold from the hefty blow Sylvie had dealt her not a minute before.

B-15, the undisputed saviour of the pair of them, had finally regained consciousness after the massive strike to the head she had received at the hands of one of the Timekeepers’ specialist defense team. They had not treated her mercifully while she was down either, delivering unnecessarily cruel, wounding kicks to the woman they saw as the traitor in their midst.

Sylvie reacted as if by instinct and rushed straight to B-15’s side, running practiced hands down the Hunter’s limbs to assess for fractures or broken bones. Loki could only marvel - for all her uncompromising toughness, Sylvie’s unconscious impulse was to compassion, a quality that he found at times miserably difficult to access, which frustrated him to no end, especially when he considered how yet more painful Sylvie’s past had been to his own.

‘Nothing broken.’ Sylvie’s soft reassurance to B-15 snapped Loki out of his reverie. ‘But those arseholes didn’t go easy on you by any means. Do you think you can walk?’ There was a flash of fire in the resilient Hunter’s eyes and she opened her mouth to deliver a stinging retort before Sylvie broke out into a warm smile and there was a brief moment of kinship between these two fearsome warriors.

‘Still,’ continued Sylvie bluntly, ‘I’m not having you risk your life to save us only to pass out in one of these obscure corridors where no-one’ll find you for the next week. I’m gonna see you to the infirmary and you can’t stop me.’ She was busy helping B-15 struggle painfully to her feet when Loki murmured, gravelly, ‘Sylvie. Is that wise?’

Sylvie glowered. Whatever difficult feelings she had for this man, he was not about to tell her what to do. Luckily B-15 interceded, voice tight with pain, but determined nonetheless: ‘I know how we can do this. Variant -’, she checked herself, ‘L-Loki. Take out Ravonna’s Tempad from her jacket.’

Loki’s skin crawled but he nevertheless did as she commanded, crouching down to where Ravonna still lay knocked out, reaching inside her jacket to retrieve the rectangular Tempad, surprisingly heavy in his palm. He handed it uncertainly to B-15 who snapped it open and began pressing buttons with a confident ease that seemed to indicate she knew exactly what she was doing. ‘There,’ she said smugly after 30 seconds or so, ‘the warrant for my capture has been deleted. And don’t worry,’ her gaze flitted over to Loki and in that brief glance Loki knew that B-15 had perceptively ascertained the depth of his attachment to Sylvie, ‘nothing is going to happen to that Variant on my watch. The store cupboard for this unit is right next to the infirmary, so we’ll get her a uniform to act as a disguise on the way back.’ B-15’s eyes narrowed, and Loki knew she was fighting hard what must be a tremendous amount of pain. She handed the Tempad back to Loki and he felt incredibly humbled by the action. Sylvie helped her very gently to the elevator door. ‘Promise me,’ B-15 whispered through gritted teeth as she turned to face Loki one last time, ‘that you’ll bring this place to the ground.’ Loki nodded once, slow and solemn - forcing himself to believe that such a thing was possible when so much lay still unknown. He and Sylvie locked gazes, and Loki longed to cross to the elevator doors in a handful of strides, hold her so close to him, take her face in his hands… Stop. He forced himself to focus right now, for all of their sakes. He only held her gaze as the elevator doors closed, and then they were gone.

Loki exhaled, and it came out mostly as a sob. He closed his eyes to withhold the tears which he felt welling in their sea-green depths. He had held himself together all this while for Sylvie, but now, standing alone in the cold, misty chamber - he felt assaulted by uncertainty and fear. And sorrow. He so wished for Mobius, for his friend, who was always so grounded and strong - a master of strategy. Loki’s gift for style and verbal artistry were rendered useless in a situation such as this and he felt utterly incompetent and broken.

‘You can be whatever - whoever - you wanna be. Even someone good. I mean just in case anyone ever told you different.’

Loki’s eyes snapped open, shining with salt water and yet never so determined as now.

No.

He had the ability to stand up and make his own choices, and that started now. Not his first act of defiance against whatever cruel authority had created this suffocating institution of control, and certainly not his last.

He knew what he needed to do, and he needed to do it for Sylvie - while he had this rapidly diminishing window and before they set about trying to achieve the impossible in burning this place to the ground.

And before he told her that he loved her.

Loki stooped and grimly retrieved his Time Collar where it lay on the floor after B-15 had freed him of it. He was going to need it, unfortunately. He opened the Tempad and after a short while as he got to grips with its functions, a Time Door with a subtle magenta sheen opened up next to him.

Panicked breathing behind him.

Good, she was awake.

Loki wasted no time, seizing Renslayer none too gently by the lapel of her jacket. She foggily tried to resist him, but before her blurry vision had even cleared, she felt the Time Collar wrap constrictingly around her neck, felt Loki haul her to her feet and unceremoniously push her through the Time Door ahead of him.

The Asgardian bedchamber was light and airy and warm - a stark contrast to the cool, damp darkness of the place they had emerged from. Loki looked around briefly, instantly wistful, recognising the arch of the ceiling, the pristine white marble floor, even smelling the heady summer scents of his old home. It made his heart ache even more - if that was possible at this stage. He was quickly distracted, however, by Ravonna’s wild sprint away from his side. She had regained her full mental capacity now, but was seized by terror at the situation - at the mercy of the Variant and whatever tortures he could concuct for her.

Loki fiercely loathed to play the jailor - even to someone as worthy of harsh treatment as Renslayer - but he needed her attention. He turned the dial of the Time Twister and in an instant Renslayer was back at his side. Though the logical part of Ravonna’s brain knew it was fruitless, she tried to break away from him several more times, just as Loki had tried upon his capture. Eventually Loki seized her by the arm and made her turn to look at the scene before them.

Throughout the chaos the little girl seated on the floor had payed them no heed. Not that she could. This was what the TVA quaintly referred to as an ‘Observant Loop Cell’ - of course obnoxiously abbreviated to OLC. An OLC was designed not to punish prisoners into submission but rather to force them to reflect on situations they had experienced - made to watch those situations over and over and unable to help, hinder or manipulate any of the figures within it.

Loki himself had had no idea what to expect when he had found Variant L1129’s file on Renslayer’s Tempad, and created an OLC of the Variant’s apprehension. He had briefly had a vision of the young, out-of-control Goddess of Mischief, terrorizing Asgard - effecting pain and suffering, destruction and death so devastating that there was no choice but to send up a smoke flare, a Nexus Event. It did not fit in the slightest with what he perceived of Sylvie’s true character, but he could think of no other reasonable explanation. He did certainly not expect this angelic child, playing as any child would, with her toys. Loki felt a pang of unhappiness as he remembered his own childhood days, he never could play nicely. It was all borne of resentment and jealousy: Father would always ensure Thor had the most luxurious selection of toys, and he was anyway keen that both of his sons stopped messing around with playthings as early as possible and go out for battle training with the young sons of Asgardian nobility instead. Where Thor thrived in the competitive, loud environment of the training ground, Loki shrank into himself. Self-conscious, anxious, lacking the warrior’s bulk that all the other boys seemed to possess, the young prince found himself more often than not in a corner with a few books and some of the toys his father scorned - to make up his own stories in his own time. The other boys mocked him endlessly, tore pages out of the books, stole the miniature figurines of Valkyrie and other great warriors. Loki had eventually learned to be as harsh and cruel as they - only his power to hurt came from his intelligence rather than brawn.

This little girl was anything but harsh and cruel, hurt and isolated. Yes, she was alone, but she seemed to relish that independence - making her own stories up in her own time. ‘Dragon swoops towards the palace, but Valkyrie flies over, defeats the dragon and saves Asgard!’ she crowed, face alit at the conclusion of what had evidently been an epic story. Loki couldn’t suppress a small smile, though he knew that any moment there must be some great catastrophe which would set off the Nexus Event. Ravonna seemed to have frozen at his side - both were caught up in their individual perception of the events unfolding before their eyes.

When the golden Time Door opened mere seconds later, Loki gasped in disbelief, gaze flitting around the room and then back to Sylvie as he tried to ascertain what could have caused the Nexus and finding no evidence at all. Ravonna stiffened next to him as they both saw none other than Ravonna Renslayer - or more precisely Hunter A-20 - in clear command of the two Minutemen flanking her, hold out her Tempad before her and certify in a cold, triumphant voice: ‘There’s our variant.’ Sylvie’s eyes were huge and frightened as Renslayer continued without pause: ‘On the authority of the Timekeepers, I hereby arrest you for crimes against the sacred timeline’, as though she were addressing some notorious criminal and not a terrified little girl.

‘Where’s the Nexus?!’ Loki thought, increasingly desperate and distressed as the OLC Renslayer seized Sylvie by her skinny arm and wrenched her towards the Time Door. It all happened very quickly then. The Minutemen set their Reset Charge which immediately began its task of disintegrating Sylvie’s possessions - anything and everything that indicated that she had ever been in this room. Sylvie screamed, high-pitched, shaking in Renslayer’s grasp: ‘Wait!!!’. Loki resisted the urge to run to her aid, knowing it would be completely useless. Then Sylvie and Renslayer gone, followed by the Minutemen, the Time Door snapped shut and Loki and his Renslayer stood facing one another in a deafening silence in the handful of seconds of respite prisoners would receive before the loop started again.

Tears were clouding Loki’s vision, but he blinked them away angrily. ‘Why?’ was the only thing he said - in a voice several octaves below his usual speaking voice. Renslayer shook her head and pressed her lips together, though her chest heaved at the fraught situation. Loki growled softly and resisted the urge to hurt her - to make her talk.

No.

That was what he would have done in the past, he would not descend to such base measures now.

He didn’t need to, the loop was already starting again. Loki felt as though his heart would fairly break in two as he watched the young Sylvie skip into her bedroom, arms full of her toys, setting them out, beginning to play. ‘You’re going,’ he spat at Renslayer ‘to stand here with me and watch this as many times as it takes for you to tell me what the Nexus event was that made you rip an innocent young girl’s life away from her and force her on the run for her entire life. I don’t care how long it takes. You’re going to tell me.’

In reality that wasn’t exactly true - Sylvie and B-15 had almost certainly reached the infirmary by now and if Sylvie made it back to the Timekeepers’ chamber to find it empty, to think that she had been abandoned by her one companion (and perhaps more than that) in the universe… It nearly had Loki sending them both back to the TVA instantly. But Renslayer was breaking already, he could see it, as he forced her to watch the abject cruelty, cruelty at her hands, again and again. By the third viewing, Renslayer’s eyes brimmed with tears and Loki would gladly have wept openly. By the fifth, she started to hyperventilate, made to move away. Loki turned the Time Twister’s dial and she was jarred back into place. On the sixth viewing, just as the OLC Renslayer was about to seize Sylvie, she abruptly screamed: ‘Enough! I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you.’

Both breathed out in relief, when Loki pressed the button on the Tempad that cut the loop and everyone in the scene disintegrated immediately. He turned to face her and forced out between his teeth: ‘Do not try to lie to the God of Mischief. You have no idea how acutely I am attuned to falsehoods. You will tell me in every horrifying detail about this Nexus Event, or I will leave you in this Time Cell and bury this Tempad in the deepest crevice of the TVA where no one will ever, ever find it. Now TELL ME.’

Renslayer took a deep breath to steady herself, closed her eyes and spoke with a surprisingly steady voice: ‘The Variant was deviating from her role on the Sacred Timeline.’ Loki snarled: ‘Obviously! What was the deviation?’. Renslayer opened her eyes and locked her chocolate brown eyes with his green ones. ‘A Loki,’ she said, slowly, as though choosing her words carefully, ‘does not get to travel the kind of path that that Variant was on.’ Loki rushed to intercede, but Renslayer narrowed her eyes, warning him not to interrupt her.

‘It was a mistake that she ever got as far as she did. Our technology advances every day - it’s now so accurate that we can nip burgeoning Nexus events like this one in the bud.’ Loki was amazed that she could speak in such clinical terms about the organisation that had only very recently been revealed to have three mindless robots as its figureheads. But Renslayer’s voice ran with conviction which only strengthened as she continued: ‘Lokis are so very tricky. It’s an incredible rarity that any being is allowed so much leeway as they have been, and we have all had to suffer the consequences of that. You see, due to your natures as shapeshifters, this Variant being born the Goddess rather than the God of Mischief was no cause for a Nexus flare. But of course in the archaic society that you are raised in, the ridiculous difference in gender is of massive significance. Recall that only male heirs are permitted to succeed the throne of Asgard. In your case, informing you of your adoption would have caused colossal problems for King Odin - that would have had ramifications across Asgard, not to mention potential rebellion from you yourself. Odin was under no illusions of how much more intelligent you were than his legitimate son, and how that would have fused with the arrogance of princehood to create the ultimate cuckoo within the sparrow’s nest - an utterly unacceptable scenario. Far better to keep that knowledge from you, even if it did mean that you grew up confused and resentful - emotions Odin could easily ignore. Far better to have you treated as the bastard son, who he would insidiously try to manipulate to his own ideals, who might possibly one, highly unlikely day, be fit for the throne should Thor be killed in battle before his heir was old enough to succeed the throne.’

‘Of course, for a girl, Odin had no such concerns. He took the child from Jotunheim out of some scrap of pity, and because she could prove useful in negotiating with the Jotuns at a later date. A princess had no chance of succeeding the throne, not to mention an illegitimate one, who would likely be married off to some lowborn noble as soon as she had come of age. So Odin told the Variant of her adoption. And somehow, ludicrously, that knowledge failed to break the Variant, it only made her stronger. She took pride in her differences from her family and the rest of Asgard, her inclination to independence rather than company, her delight of mischief. Where she should have been enraged, embittered and vengeful, she was courageous, compassionate and creative.’

‘Excuse me,’ Loki hissed, interrupting Renslayer’s monologue, ‘where she SHOULD have been?’. Despite the fact that she had found herself at his mercy, Renslayer sneered at him. ‘Of course-’ she continued, seeming to try to gain the upper hand over him with the knowledge she was revealing, ‘a Loki is an evil, lying scourge, like you. Where would be the heroes of the Timeline without the villains? That Variant had a role to play, same as you, same as all of us, and she went off the path. Whoever heard of a heroic Goddess of Mischief?’. Ravonna’s voice cracked slightly on the last sentence as she bore witness to Loki’s murderous expression. ‘So what you’re saying,’ he replied with devastating calm ‘is that Sylvie lost her home, her family, her life, because she would one day grow up to be kind and just, to be her own person? Oh, no one is truly good or truly bad, but the TVA decrees that not to be so.’ His voice grew more intense and Renslayer shrank before him. ‘Because whatever devil puppetmaster is controlling the TVA, they like to have their play made interesting - with villains to cause destruction and heroes to save the day?’. Renslayer was at a loss for words, but Loki had heard enough. He pressed a button on the Time Twister he held and Ravonna sank ungraciously to the floor, unconscious once more. One of the functions the delightful Twister could enact was to reverse the prisoner’s physiological state - mainly meant for various exotic creatures the TVA brought in, that could effect all sorts of trouble as a result of their innate biology, but in this case merely necessary to give Loki a moment to take in what he had just experienced. He couldn’t quite do it.

Only concern for Sylvie forced Loki to action, and he opened up the door back to the Timekeepers’ chamber using the Tempad, dragging the unconscious Ravonna back through with him. Despite what he had said, he would never consign anyone to spend their life trapped in one of the hideous Time Cells. He removed her Time Collar too, and flung it to a far corner of the chamber, repulsed that it had had to come to him using one of the TVA’s disgusting methods of control to get the information he needed.

His thoughts left Renslayer entirely behind as the elevator doors opened and Sylvie emerged not a moment too soon, yanking off the breastplate and trousers of the TVA Minutemen she had worn as a disguise over her usual black top and trousers. Now that Sylvie’s purpose had been achieved, she too seemed utterly spent as she staggered over to where Loki stood staring at her. Both failed to speak for several moments and then Loki rasped, with a voice that sounded unused for days, ‘Sylvie. Sylvie, I need to tell you something.’

Sylvie’s deep blue eyes widened, her heart began to pound like a wild drum in her chest. ‘What?’ she could only say as Loki struggled to find the words for what he had just learned.

When it was over, they both started to cry.

Loki and Sylvie had never been ones for excessive, histrionic displays of emotion. They had had to armour themselves in toughness and charm and mischief and wit all their lives despite the turbulence that roared inside of them.

And now here the both of them stood, silent but for the ragged intake of breath as they struggled to bring themselves under some semblance of control.

Eventually they stopped. Each observed the other’s tear-streaked face.

‘Sylvie...’ Loki said again. The word seemed to ground him and her at the same time.

‘Not another pep talk please.’ Sylvie uttered with a weak attempt at humour, that fell flat instantly with the sheer desperation in her tone.

‘No. I have to tell you something else.’

Sylvie wasn’t sure that she could handle anything else.

Loki stepped closer to her, and avoided her gaze, his breathing picking up again.

Sylvie felt herself instinctively mirroring him, and forced herself to focus.

Loki looked her in the eyes.

‘We will figure this out.’

It really was too much.

‘How do you know that?’ How was there any certainty about anything anymore?

‘Because, uh -’ Loki’s near-gasping for air cut him off and he twisted his sweaty hands together.

‘Well, back on Lamentis…’ It was all too impossible to explain. Loki gestured helplessly, trying to find the beginnings of some clever story that had never failed to come to him with infinite ease before and now completely failed him.

He gave up. His arms dropped to his sides.

‘This is new for me. Um -’ Loki’s heart raced in his chest and the sound seemed amplified, obliterating his thoughts. They were a tangle of grief and passion and...and love - a tangle that was impossible to reconcile.

Loki turned his hands towards his heart, as though it could speak for him.

‘What?’ Sylvie breathed, hardly daring to speak, her own heart pulsing just as intensely.

They would figure this out. They would. Some very deep and very soulful part in both of them, inextricably linking one to the other, knew it. Loki clasped her upper arms, barely believing himself.

I love you Sylvie. Sylvie I love you. Sylvie I will always love you - you beautiful spirit of mischief. Sylvie, we are free and we will figure this out. I love you Sylvie, I love you.

‘If it were now to die, ‘twere now to be most happy.’ thought Loki, even as he felt the icy touch of Ravonna Renslayer’s weapon seize his heart and rip its chill through his body, as Sylvie watched him disintegrate right before her eyes which never left his - as he was transported to some realm of chaos where the God of Mischief would navigate the labyrinth back to his Goddess so that he could speak those words unsung softly in her ear before bending down to her lips and watching the TVA burn.

- Inspired by a fantastic suggestion from asgardian1112! More suggestions for future stories gladly welcome!

#loki #lokiseries #sylki #sylvie x loki #sylvie laufeydottir

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finelinevogue · 3 years

Note

hiii ! could you write something about harry stalking y/n's Instagram but her account is private, so he sends a request and she accepts and she follows him back, and harry likes her pics (which aren't many) and tries to find out if she do you have a boyfriend or something?

this might be quite short but i hope this is alright for you;

“What’s the correct reaction I should use when Harry Styles requests to follow me?”

You asked your best friend, Heather, as you were both lounging on your bed. She was sat up against the headboard and you lay the opposite way around, holding you phone to the ceiling.

It was just another simple day for the two of you. You’d worked a long shift at the local supermarket and Heather had worker her long shift at the cat shelter, both of you now just having some down time to relax and regroup your thoughts before you even thought to start on dinner. Heather, your best friend and roommate, was an absolute tyrant in the kitchen which meant you were often the one to cook dinner. Tonight was shrimp risotto, if you could be bothered to get out of bed to actually make it. However you were no grounded to your bed more than ever, shocked with the current notification staring you square in the eyes.

“Why?” Heather laughed at you, not noticing your heavily serious face to your question, “you having your daily dreams over the man again?”

Okay, you didn’t have daily dreams… Nightly dreams, maybe. You had liked Harry for a while actually, perhaps since he had cut his hair for a movie he had done. You weren’t a huge fan of his and listened to his music occasionally - like when you were folding laundry or on a long train ride - but you weren’t dedicated to him. He was cute and his voice sounded really lovely. He was definitely the face you used in your nighttime scenarios, but you would never admit that out loud.

“No,” you briefly paused to find the right words to say, “because Harry Styles just requested to follow me.”

“You— What!” Heather sprung up from her position on the bed, but you stayed still and eyes fixed to your phone.

“Appropriate reaction?” You asked again, handing her your phone so she could see for herself.

“Um, ascending into heaven, I don’t know do I? The really question is why the fuck haven’t you accepted it?” She was quick to answer your question and even quicker to ask hers, looking at you as if you’d just told her you were born with only one tit.

“Maybe because it’s Harry Styles!” You exclaimed, sitting up and looking at her now the same way she had just done you.

“Babe, honey, that’s exactly why you need to accept him.” Tossing you back your phone you caught it as you looked to her. God, what was happening? You’d been stacking shelves at a supermarket 3 hours ago and now you were about to accept a follow request from Harry Styles - like the same man who you think about every night before bed and yet know barely anything about.

“Oh fuck it.” You clicked accept and then followed him back, switching your phone off and throwing it down onto the bed.

“Did you..”

“Yeah.”

“So…”

“Yeah.”

Then you started to freak.

It hit you that Harry Styles could see all of your instagram photos - even the ones you were tagged in. Then you questioned whether he would even bother to stalk you? Was he that kind of person? How did he even find you in the first place? You had 489 followers to his near 50 million, so it’s not exactly like he just saw you appear in his notifications - you didn’t even follow him until 30 seconds ago. Let’s say he did see your photos, what would he see? For starters there’s the photos of you and your parents dogs and then just your parents. There’s you on the beach and you in the snow. There’s you with friends and still some posted of people you didn’t like anymore. It was okay.

“Do you think he’s wanking off to that picture of you in your lingerie?” Heather broke the silence.

“What?” You looked at her baffled by such a question.

“You know? The one you just posted like two days ago because it was body positivity week at the gym?”

Fuck.

You’d completely forgotten about that photo and you scrambled quick for your phone. God, you couldn’t let Harry see you like that. You’d felt really, really, good when you’d posted it, dressed in your black lingerie from Victorias Secret, but now you were insecure that Harry could’ve looked at the photo and… well, vomited maybe?

“Oh no, no, no.” You repeated as you went back onto Instagram, only to freeze. “Holy fuck balls.”

If your mother heard the tone of your tongue from the past 5 minutes, she would have you strung up on her washing line by your toes. Okay not literally, but something similar.

“What? What’s happened?” Heather pressed, nosy to the current situation.

“He liked the photo.”

“He what?” Heather shouted, a shit eating grin on her face.

“Oh my fuck he liked the photo.” You put the phone on the bed and got up off to stand up, pacing whilst your rubbed your hands over your stressed temples. “He liked the look.” You repeated to yourself, trying to convince yourself that this was actually happening.

Harry Styles had seen a photo of you in your lingerie. That is not something you’d ever thought you’d ever say, but there’s the fact. Like he’d seen you - your body. You paced the length of your bedroom, completely in your own head wondering where you’d go in your life past this moment. Crawling under a heavy rock to live forever sounded pretty good right now though.

“Have you done freaking out yet?” Heather asked sarcastically, watching you pace with your phone in her hands.

“No. Yes. Maybe. Is this an acceptable reaction?” You stressed your hands through your hair and cupped your hand over your mouth in shock that this was genuinely happening.

“So I shouldn’t tell you that he’s also sent a direct message?” She asked rhetorically, making you stop wearing a track into your carpet.

“He…”

“Yeah.”

“Saying?”

“Do you want to sit down first or…” Heather asked, clearly concerned you weren’t handling this all very well.

“No. I’d rather just collapse afterwards.” You nodded your head, egging her to continue.

“Okay…” She rolled her eyes and returned her eyes to the screen to start reading out the message. “Y/N—”

“Oh jesus.” You interrupted, clutching onto your desk chair as your legs went weak and you had to sit down. Heather laughed at you before continuing, her eyes lighting up as she skim read the message.

“I hope you’re having a lovely day. I hope you don’t find my follow request or liking of your photos too creepy or forward, it’s just I think you’re really beautiful and ever since I heard about you I just had to know who you were. If you don’t want to reply, that’s alright I understand, but if you would like to know me a bit more as I would like to get to know you then feel free to call me or just message back. If, however, you are already seeing someone I apologise for this message to both you and your partner. Wishing you all the best, H. x”

Breathe check. Yes, still breathing.

“Y/N?” Heather asked, noticing you were struck still.

“Okay…” You let out a shaky breathe, doing some internal meditation to try and calm the buzzing of nerves that were rushing throughout your entire body.

“Y/N?” Heather snapped you out of your attempt of peace. “What do you want to do now?”

“He called me beautiful.” You smiled at her she smiled back, happy that you were happy.

“He also said he had heard about you from somewhere?” Heather asked, having picked up on that important bit of information.

“And he wants to get to know me.”

“Yes, okay lover-woman, let’s focus here.”

“Right, yes. Focus.” You nodded your head, still in a dreamy daze.

“Should we call him?” Heather asked.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” You threw your hands up in the air, which shocked you both. “Woah, sorry. Do you seriously think he’s going to want to listen to me paralysed at the lips? No.”

“So, text?”

“Text, yes.” You sighed, coming to sit on the bed next to her and draft a message back to the man who was about to change your life.

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mldrgrl · 4 years

Note

Hello ! I love your fanfictions and i have a prompt for you: Scully discovers Mulder's secret talent. He gives the best back rubs. (ust to rst maybe ?).

Magic Fingers by: mldrgrl Rating: PG-13 to be safe

It was her shoulder, the first time. She’d been hunched uncomfortably over an autopsy table for too long in too cramped conditions - the best a small town without an official medical examiner could offer - and she had paid the price that night that a handful of Tylenol couldn’t cure.

And Mulder wouldn’t stop talking.

He went on and on, arguing not even with her, but with himself, changing his theory as rapidly as he thumbed through the latest photos. She tried to focus her attention on what he was saying, but the pain in her shoulder was too distracting and she was too weary.

As he droned, she reached up with her right hand and squeezed the top of her left shoulder. He didn’t notice her wince or her whimper, which was just as well. She closed her eyes, pressing as deeply into the aching muscle as she could with her fingers. It was somehow both more painful and less painful at the same time. Her brows drew towards one another in concentrated effort and after a few moments, she realized Mulder had finally, blessedly, stopped talking. She opened her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she answered, lowering her hand and unconsciously rolling her shoulder back. “My shoulder. It’s fine.”

He looked at her with his head tilted, plucking at his bottom lip with his thumb and index fingers. He scooted his chair over closer to hers and slid his pile of photos along with him. He picked up where he left off and he reached up, one-handedly massaging her shoulder as he pointed to different things in the photos he wanted her to see.

She probably should have told him to stop, but she was afraid if she were to open her mouth it would be to weep with relief. His thumb pushed into the back of her shoulder in the exact spot she needed him to and she had to bite her lip to stop from moaning.

With slightly trembling hands, she picked up one of the photos to examine the shape of some burn marks that he was insisting held a pattern that she couldn’t see. Without missing a beat, Mulder stood and shifted his right hand to her right shoulder and his left to her left. He leaned over her chair just a little, speaking down above her head as he continued on with a very firm and thorough massage of her shoulders.

“I, uh…” She blew out a breath and fought against dropping her head forward. “It looks...it looks…Mulder, even if I saw what you did, what does it prove?”

“You’re right.” He abruptly stopped his massage and his hands stilled on her shoulders. He gave her one last squeeze and then gathered the photos.

“Leave them,” she said. “I’ll look them over again in the morning, once I’ve gotten some sleep.”

He nodded and then looked at his watch and cringed. “Sorry, Scully, it’s…”

“It’s okay.” She got up to walk him to the door of her motel room. “Thank you for, um…” She gestured to her shoulder. “It feels a lot better.”

“Anytime.” He grinned and then wiggled his fingers at her. “They don’t call me Magic Fingers Mulder for nothing.”

“Who’s they?”

He shrugged. “People could.”

“Mmhm.”

“Night, Scully.”

“Good night, Mulder.”

****

The second time it was a headache that had been troubling her for the better part of an evening. They were very inconveniently on a stakeout, trapped within the confines of the front seats of their rental car. The headlights of passing cars would occasionally whiz by, the bright light making her flinch and try to surreptitiously sink below the dashboard. It was only when Mulder would press the binoculars to his face that she could discreetly rub her temples or pinch the bridge of her nose for some relief. She’d washed down a few aspirin with tepid coffee over an hour ago and the dull ache remained. She’d also made sure the glove compartment was well-stocked with napkins for any sudden nosebleeds.

“Give me your hand,” Mulder suddenly said.

“My hand?” Without thinking about it, she started to put her hand out to him, but then pulled it back. “Why?”

“I’m bored, thought I’d read your palm.” He put the binoculars down in his lap and turned his head to her and inclined his chin up at her. “I can help with that.”

“Help with what?”

“Your headache. Let me see your hand.”

“I don’t…” She stopped her denial short when she saw his brows go up. Reluctantly, she moved her arm up and held her hand out to him. He folded his arm over hers and held it steady tucked up against his side.

“This is the Hegu,” he said, pressing his thumb into the divot between the base of her thumb and index finger. In the same spot, but on her palm, he pressed with his index finger so that it was like he had her hand in a vice.

Almost immediately, she felt a lightness in her head. The pain hadn’t gone away entirely, but rather she was numb to it. She could still feel the thrum of the headache without actually feeling the ache.

“Tell me if I press too hard,” he said.

“It’s fine,” she murmured.

“Guessing they never covered acupressure in med school?”

“No, they didn’t.”

He moved his thumb in a slow circle, massaging her hand while keeping an eye on the suspect’s windows. Within minutes, she could no longer feel the pain in her head and finally she flexed her fingers and tugged on his grip every so slightly to indicate he could let go.

“Want me to do the other side?” he asked.

She wiped a hand across her brow. “No, I think...it’s gone, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He picked up the binoculars from his lap and put them to his face again. “Say something earlier next time. You don’t have to suffer.”

“Okay,” she replied, with no intention of keeping that promise.

*****

She’d been awake since 4:30 am EST and it was currently 8:42 am PST. That was over 31 hours by her estimation without sleep, on her feet, in the same boots she’d stepped into before heading to Dulles.

She hobbled into her motel room, barely able to muster the energy to remove her leather jacket. She tried to drape it over the chair by the window, but it slipped off the back and she left it on the floor. All she wanted to do was sleep.

Not bothering to turn the bed down, she crawled across the mattress and collapsed onto her back, sprawling diagonally and staring up at the popcorn ceiling. Mulder pushed through the connecting door only moments later, already in fresh jeans and bare-chested.

“I booked the next flight out,” he said. “We leave in twenty minutes.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” she muttered.

He chuckled and sat down by her feet. “Tomorrow morning,” he said, unzipping her right boot. She groaned as he pulled it off her foot. He took her left boot off as well and then pulled his legs up to sit cross-legged with her feet in his lap.

“Oh my god,” she said, when he slid his thumbs up her insteps. Her eyes slipped shut and she sighed.

“That good?”

“Don’t stop.”

“Careful, it’s talk like that that’ll lead to breaking the rules.”

“I don’t care. Don’t stop.”

He worked both feet at the same time for a few minutes and then concentrated on the left with both hands, massaging from heel to toe. She only let a few moans slip out. He moved on to the right foot and she winced when he squeezed the knuckle of her pinkie toe. She was fairly certain she’d developed a blister.

“Hurt?” he asked.

“Blister, I think,” she answered.

“Why do you wear them?”

“Why?”

“Don’t get me wrong, Scully, the heels, the boots, they’re sexy as hell-”

“Careful,” she interrupted. “It’s talk like that that’ll lead to breaking the rules.”

“But, your poor little feet.” He stopped massaging to gently caress the top of her foot.

“They’ll survive.” She wiggled her toes at him to hint that he wasn’t finished.

“I could’ve been doing this for you years ago.”

“It matters more that you’re doing it for me now.”

He stopped and her feet slipped from his lap as he uncrossed his legs. He hovered over her on his hands and knees and then bent down and kissed the corner of her mouth. She opened one eye and then reached up and pinched his chin before he could actually kiss her lips.

“It’s a stupid rule,” he mumbled, turning his head and pursing his lips to kiss her thumb instead.

“I didn’t tell you to stop.”

“No, actually, I think I recall you telling me not to stop.” He crawled back, returned to his cross-legged position, and took her feet back into his lap.

She yawned. “Just let me get a few hours in,” she murmured. “You should get some sleep as well.”

“You sleep. I think I’ll take the rental and head to Lady Footlocker and get you some sneakers.”

*****

How things have changed, she thought, as she knocked on his door. When she’d started feeling faint, feeling nauseated, instead of hiding away she went straight to Mulder. This thing between them was new, still in development, playful and flirtatious and fun. She’d never had to seek comfort or reassurance from him before, but she needed it now.

He brought her in, helped her into his bed and out of her shoes, wrapped his arms around her and whispered lovely things into her ear. The chill she felt left her and she was able to stop trembling. The nausea abated, but she still felt strange and restless.

“What can I do?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she answered. “I feel achy and tired.”

“The flu?”

“It doesn’t feel like the flu. It doesn’t feel like anything I’ve experienced before.”

He slipped out of the bed and turned off all the lights except for the dim vanity light in the bathroom. He came back with one of the sample-sized bottles of motel lotion and collected all the photos that had scattered across the bed when he laid her down.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” he said.

“Agent Mulder,” she murmured. “Are you coming on to me?”

“Only for the last seven years. You just finally noticed a few months ago. Can you sit up?”

She pushed herself up and tiredly brushed the hair out of her face. He opened the buttons on her blouse and she twisted her shoulders this way and that to free her arms. She unhooked her bra on her own and he rolled the comforter back and shoved the pillows aside as she pushed her slacks off her hips.

She laid down on her stomach with her right cheek pressed to the bed. Mulder straddled the backs of her thighs and kept most of his weight on his knees. The lotion he squeezed onto his palms smelled like lemons. Not unpleasant, but not ideal either. The next time he was inspired to give her a massage, she’d try to have something nicer on hand.

He started at the middle of her back and smoothed his slick hands up to her shoulders. She pushed out a small puff of air as she tried to settle and relax. He was quiet as he worked her shoulders and neck. No jokes, no witty remarks. She savored the silence and for once, allowed herself to just enjoy being taken care of.

“You really are good at this,” she murmured.

“I told you once before, they don’t call me Magic Fingers Mulder for nothing.”

“Yet you never told me who ‘they’ were.”

“Anyone who’s been lucky enough to have the magic fingers upon them.”

She smiled with the right side of her mouth and snorted lightly. He braced his hands on the small of her back and then scooted down closer to the backs of her knees. For her, it was at that point when the massage took a turn from gentle and comforting to unbearably erotic. And it wasn’t anything that he purposefully did, it was simply that her brain suddenly seemed to register the fact that her skin and his hands had gotten intimately familiar as of late and she started to anticipate what should come next.

It was hard work to be still when every drag of his fingers down her back and the slow slide of his palms up to the backs of her shoulders made her feel like writhing. Her pelvis ached and her stomach dropped and flipped and heat flooded her veins and made her skin prickle. She could feel sweat forming at her temples and low back from the effort it took not to push her hips up into his hands. Tears gathered behind her closed eyes and clung to her lashes before rolling slowly across her cheek and nose, dripping silently to the bed.

“Scully?” Mulder paused and placed his hand lightly at the back of her neck, thumbing her hair out of the way.

“I love you,” she breathed. “I…”

It took exactly two seconds for Mulder to respond. “I love you too,” he said. He bent down, touched his lips to the back of her shoulder and then continued with the massage. His touch was a bit firmer though, more confident. Saying those words out loud was like its own kind of release. She felt satiated and calm.

At some point, she felt Mulder move off of her and felt the blankets being draped over her. Half-asleep, she let her hand flop blindly across the bed, looking for Mulder.

“I’m here,” he whispered, sliding his hand into hers as he lifted the covers and slid in beside her. He’d stripped to his boxers. Warm flesh against warm flesh. She put her arm over his chest and slid one leg between his. “My little rulebreaker,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

*****

She was due in less than two weeks and she felt every bit as pregnant as she looked. She hadn’t seen her feet in a month and she couldn’t last more than twenty minutes without needing a bathroom. She loved it though. She loved feeling the baby kick; finding a little hand or foot or elbow pressed against her abdomen; or the time the baby had the hiccups. It was what she had hoped and prayed for.

What she didn’t love, was the constant ache that had developed in her hips and lower back. She had yet to find a position she could be in, standing, sitting, or laying, that offered any relief. She had asked about it at her last Lamaze class and the answers had been simple: take a warm bath or apply warm compresses, elevate the hips, try massage. She’d tried the bath, tried the compresses, and elevated her hips. None of it worked.

She was having a particularly rough day when Mulder knocked on her door. Things had been so strange between them since his return. She tried to understand his trauma, tried not to push, but she didn’t expect him to shut her out so completely. He had only recently started to express a hint of interest in the baby, but had yet to ask her the questions she knew he must have. He’d attended her last Lamaze class with her a few evenings prior and she had waited through the silence of the car ride home, willing him to say something, but he hadn’t.

“Pizza?” he asked, holding out his offering to her when she answered the door.

“Come in.” She pushed the door open and walked away to let him see himself in. Waddled, is more like it. She dug her fists into the small of her back and headed slowly to the couch. He was lucky she’d already been up, on her way from the bathroom to the kitchen when he knocked, otherwise he’d still be waiting.

Mulder followed closely behind and set the pizza box down on the coffee table. He shed his jacket and then pushed the sleeves of his sweater up as he headed to the kitchen for plates and napkins. He seemed relaxed, almost jovial. He brought the plates and napkins and then disappeared again, returning this time with two glasses of water. She eyed him a little suspiciously as he doled out the pizza.

“What, um...brought this on?” she asked, watching him devour nearly half a slice of pizza in a single bite as she blew the heat off her own slice.

“Thought you might need some sustenance,” he replied around his mouthful.

She stretched her back and sighed. “What I could really use are those magic fingers of yours,” she answered.

Mulder wiped his mouth with a napkin and glanced at her belly and everywhere else but her face. When he finally looked her in the eye he cleared his throat and then looked away, setting his pizza plate onto the coffee table.

“I can do that,” he said. “I’ve actually been...reading about it. There was, uh...a pamphlet at the Lamaze place. I brought it home.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “It’s fine,” she said. “I was joking.” She was actually only half-kidding. She would kill her beloved pizza delivery man for a massage from Mulder.

“You don’t want me to.” The statement was very matter-of-fact and a little forlorn. He turned away and stared at the coffee table.

“I just don’t want you to feel...obligated.”

“When have I ever felt obligated?” He turned his head towards her and glanced down at her belly again. He tapped his fingers together nervously.

“I suppose...never.”

“But, if you don’t want me to, I’ll...it’s fine.”

“I do.” She put the pizza back onto the plate without taking a bite. “I want you to.”

“Okay.” He stood and then sat back down again and leaned forward off the edge of the cushion. “Uh, it says the best way to do it is for you to lay on your side. Should we…?”

“You’ll have to help me up.”

He took her hands and helped pull her from the couch. She puffed her cheeks and expelled a puff of air with the exertion and then twisted the knuckles of her index fingers into her hips after letting go of him. He put the pizza away in the kitchen while she went to the bedroom to lay down. She took her robe off but left her cotton t-shirt and flannel pants on.

Mulder stood in the doorway watching her arrange the pillows - one under her head, one between her knees, one clutched to her chest like a teddy bear. He hovered there until she was in place and then he stepped out of his shoes on his way over to the bed.

“The guides said not a lot of pressure,” he said, one hand hovering over her shoulder. “Long strokes and...if anything hurts or doesn’t feel right, you tell me.”

“I will,” she said.

He finally knelt behind her, but it was still a few more moments before he touched her. She sighed immediately, even the soft pressure of his thumbs above her tailbone was immensely gratifying. She groaned and his hands flew up.

“Too much?” he asked. “Hurts?”

“No, it’s good,” she assured him. “Feels really good.”

“Okay.”

For the first time she could remember, his touch was tentative. He’d never hesitated over her before and she hoped it was only because the health scare she’d had with the baby made him nervous, and not because she made him nervous. He gradually became less timid and her muscles were singing in appreciation.

“I want to confess something,” he said, suddenly, but didn’t stop massaging her.

“Okay.”

“I saw your chart when you were in the hospital. You’re...38 weeks now.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not the best at math, but...when you felt sick, in Oregon, does that mean…?”

She swallowed hard and shifted her eyes to glance back at him. “I found out the night you went missing.”

“Oh.”

There was an extended silence. She counted the slide of Mulder’s hands up and down her back. Fourteen passes and he said nothing more.

“Is there anything else you’d like to know?” she asked.

“I didn’t really know what was happening when I woke up. I thought...I thought years had passed, at first. I thought you had tried the IVF again or had moved on...with someone else.”

“You could’ve asked.”

“You could’ve just told me.”

“I didn’t want to push.”

“I was afraid of what the answer might be.”

She sighed and then he stopped and rested his hand on her hip. She took it, laced their fingers together and brought his arm up and across her waist to rest on top of her stomach. He shifted and laid down behind her.

“I saw something else,” he said.

“What?”

“You’re having a boy.”

“We’re having a boy,” she confirmed.

He pressed his face into the back of her head and breathed deeply. His chest swelled against her back and she pulled him closer until he fit snugly against her.

“When do you think we…?” he asked.

“After you went chasing crop circles in England,” she said. “I think.”

“I remember.” He pulls his fingers free from hers only to rest his whole hand fully on her swollen belly. “Scully, I’m not much of a catch right now - unemployed, recently raised from the dead, terrible cook, and I’ve been known to be a bit of a short-sighted, selfish SOB at times, but all I know is that one day we were in Oregon and we loved each other and suddenly it’s six months later and everything is different, but I still love you and...and I’m pretty good at keeping my fish happy and I tell great jokes and I can promise to give you really good massages every day for the rest of...for as long as you’ll have me. If you’ll have me.”

“Mulder,” she whispered, hugging his arm to her chest and pulling his hand up to kiss his knuckles.

“You don’t have to answer right now or anything.”

“Shut up, Mulder.”

“Okay, but-”

She cut him off by turning her head and pulling him into a kiss. It lasted only a few seconds, but it was enough to end any doubts for either of them. She snuggled back down into his arms and he tightened his hold on her.

“Magic Fingers Mulder strikes again,” he whispered.

She rolled her closed eyes, but smiled.

The End

#i wrote this #xf fanfic #humor #fluff #msr #scully deserves all the massages #Anonymous

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deepperplexity · 4 years

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A/N: Pt.2 of Train Ticket Madness [pt.1] - Imagine request by avisfortunae @ Wattpad: "I wonder if Snape has ever been on the internet?"

Summary: You went with professor Snape on the train, and then a bus - all the time the air bristled with the tension between you both and when you finally arrived at his home you felt overwhelmed and lacking. But he puts those thoughts out of your mind, and the darker side of you comes crawling out with a need to submit. Enticed by his commanding presence. As your mind betrays your thought of him as a master - in the bedroom - he gives you a nickname. Only for you...

Pairing: Snape x Muggleborn Reader

Setting: First a muggle train, then a muggle bus and finally Snapes home

ABBR.: │ (y/n) - Your Name │ (y/l/n) - Your Last Name │ (e/c) - Eye Colour │(s/c) - Skin Colour │

Word Count: 5083 (yeah, a bit long but...)

Warnings: PG15, Swear Words, Sexual content, Soft Dominance

Masterlist page // Masterlist post

The train bumped along, thudding and squeaking noises could be heard from time to time. But you could not hear it. You did not notice the bumping or the people getting on and off, on and off, finding seats, standing around, walking by. No, you noticed none of them. No other person mattered; only the man sitting beside you.

Your knees were touching; however, he did not spare you a single glance. He hadn't since you both had sat down on the worn-down seats of the smelly train. You could not find any words to utter, neither did he speak. There was only a thick silence between you - like a heavy fog settling in for the night. What do I do now?

The thought had you frozen. Unmoving. You barely even blinked, afraid to miss the moment he would look at you; acknowledge you in some way. But he did not. The train ride seemed to go on an on and you still weren't sure why he did not just apparate? He could, could he not? You could so why would the amazing professor be unable to? I don't understand, we literally could skip this whole damn train ride and just go instantly where ever you want to- "It is not that simple." His sudden words made you yelp and jump a bit, unprepared for the gruff voice sounding so close to your ear.

He looked down at you from the corner of his eye for a moment, "You may not know this, but there are people who would gladly keep tabs on my whereabouts. Using magic to travel leaves traces. Traces I would rather avoid at this particular moment." You hung on to every word he uttered in that low rumble of a voice and he was right, you didn't know and you had no clue as to why he would want to keep his whereabouts secret. How would one even trace him? He's not underaged, he doesn't have the Trace on him?

"There are other ways..." he growled, "illegal, yes, but these people, do not care about such things." You shrunk in your seat, perhaps because how heavy his presence suddenly got or because his voice felt like a weighted blanket. "I, don't understand," you said with a low voice. He just huffed and shifted his gaze away from you. No explanation came and the silence-fog laid thick around you once again.

You had left the train, you scurried behind him as he took larger, longer, quicker strides than you were used to. You walked slightly behind him through the little station; all around you people were on their way somewhere - their destinations clear in their minds. Yours was not. You had no idea where you were heading - still you followed Severus like a lost little puppy. Just happy to be close to him.

His billowing coat was like a storming cloud on a windy moonlit night. You took care not to touch it, afraid of what the fabric would have felt like. Afraid of breaking the little spell you held on to; the little spell that kept him with you, allowed you to be close to him. You peered up towards his face, half-hidden behind the black hair the surrounded his head like curtains. What I'd do to run my hands through it... You scolded yourself for allowing your thoughts to wander again. He can read you mind stupid!

You both stepped into a red bus, he led the way but stepped aside once you were near all the way back in the bus - he nodded with his head for you to sit in the seat closes to the window. As you were moving towards the seat you brushed up against his chest. You could have sworn that you felt his heart pound beneath those layers of fabric.

Your cheeks blushed slightly, he arched his brow in that oh so gorgeous way and you looked at him through your lashes for a mere second before taking your seat. Your heart raced, your pulse roared in your ears and his divine smell reached you despite all other smells trying to invade your nose. You breathed in a long, steadying breath through your nose as you hoped he didn't realise what you were doing. Sage, peppermint and that smell that was all him filled you. Made you tingle in places nobody else had ever reached. Without physical touch.

The bus rolled into traffic and that silence became heavier for every stop you passed. His knee touched yours a few times and each time a jolt went through your body as if the stormcloud had released lightning. Breathe (y/n). Just breathe, you told yourself over and over as small beads of sweat were misting the skin of your neck. He was so close, to close, yet not close enough.

I don’t even know where we are going… I’m such an idiot! Yes, by all means just follow the growling man with the extreme presence and let him take you where ever he pleases because you are nothing more than a little puppy happily wagging your tail for you master! MASTER?! Where the fuck did that come from? Your cheeks blushed and you hid your face from him by looking out the window. But you could feel how your face, ears and chest were burning up with - well embarrassment, yes but, excitement too perhaps?

You hade struggled for the last 30 minutes with your thoughts, his presence, his smell, the jolting and burning sensations that seemed to have travelled all through your body. “We’re here,” he said and the low rumbling that was his voice caressed you like a night breeze. You nodded and trailed after him out of the bus. You had no clue where you were. You had never been in that town but the bus stop sign said ‘Cokeworth End’ at least so you were still in the town he had bought train tickets for - when did he have time to buy them? I left, he came straight after me? No? You pondered about the tickets for a mere moment.

His hand landed at the small of you back - you were instantly electrocuted by jolts of all kinds of emotions. Your body went stiff, rigid, and at the same time, it felt as though you melted. Somewhere deep inside something was soothed by that simple little placement of his hand. That tiny touch that was all new to you. “This way,” he said and gave you a little nudge. You needed that little push as you were apparently frozen in place. All thought going towards that large hand steering you softly but swiftly.

You walked in a brisk pace, between houses and along some wider streets. All houses looked the same. The air was thick and heavy; but not in a good way. Dark clouds loomed above your heads and everything seemed to be dampened. At some point, Severus’s hand had started to push a bit harder, “Quickly,” he had murmured and you obliged. Where are we even- “Here,” he said and it interrupted your thoughts.

He stepped up a few steps and unlocked a black door. In to a house, a home. No, wait? No fucking way! His house?! What the- I can’t be here! Alone. With. With him?! I can’t, I can’t be here! Your thoughts rushed and you took one step back. Severus turned around. His face harsh, his skin looked paler and those deep onyx eyes were swirling with some unknown emotion. Something you had never seen in those eyes before but much like that expression he had worn in the tunnel over two hours ago. Horror, it looked like horror and fear. It made you gulp.

“Inside,” he huffed, “please…” he added with a clipped yet softer voice. You shook your head, I can’t go in there! That’s his house, his home! It’s not for me to enter! The conflicting emotions you held about wanting to enter, wanting to see, wanting to smell and sense the imposing man’s home battled with the fear of entering, the fear of crossing a line, the fear of being alone with him in the comfort of his own home. “Inside,” Severus said once more and gripped your arm, he hauled you inside with one harsh movement - yet it didn’t hurt and his grip was not too tight. Just assertive.

His home was small yet had enough space for all comforts of a home from what you could see. You were, in all honesty, a bit overwhelmed. You looked around, your eyes wide as they took in as much of the home as you possibly could. From the worn carpet on the floor to the somewhat dusty lamp in the ceiling, from the paintings hanging on the walls to the books stacked just about everywhere. There were trinkets, vials, bottles and what you believed to be jars of different potions ingredients on every available space.

But the house was not cluttered not dirty. It wasn’t unorganized our messy. There was order and everything was neatly placed. “Your, your home…” you mumbled and the chuckle that sounded from behind you made you turn. He was looking at you, his eyes bored into your own. Onyx coloured to your (e/c) ones. “Do not look so surprised. Despite rumours, I do not dwell in a dungeon. Neither do I live my life completely bound to Hogwarts. I do have a life besides my work and I do have a home besides my quarters at the school.” His voice rumbled and bounced against the walls in the little hallway.

Your head hung slightly, you had not meant to offend him. That thought had not even occurred to you. YOu had never listened to rumours like that when you attended Hogwarts. “(y/n),” he said and to hear him say your name reminded you of that little puppy once more. You eagerly looked up at him, had you had a tail it would most likely have been wagging. Wagging ridiculously.

He took a step towards you, you took a step back - why? You had no idea. He intimidated you, made your brain stupid, your fingers restless and you skin burn with a longing to touch and be touched. He halted, as did you. Your arms came up and wrapped around yourself. “Do not be afraid,” he said and his voice was soft. Yes, soft. It rumbled but softly like soft waves caressing a beach. You looked at his face, then your eyes wandered down. You counted the buttons and your fingers tingled with the need to unbutton them all. “I-” you had no idea what to say as your thought were invaded with thoughts of his naked skin against yours, his rough hands caressing, grabbing, stroking and exploring.

You imagined ripping away his cravat after having untied it slowly, twelve buttons… Twelve buttons to undo… What, what would you do if I reached for you? What would you do if I wanted to undress you? Explore you? Kiss you? What would I do, if you’d let me rove over your body… Enjoy it, find it, stroke it… Love it... Your cheeks flushed. You felt hot and bothered as heat curled through your body like a hungry snake. Wrapped itself around every limb. It suffocated you. Slowly. Deliberately.

Memories flashed in your mind. Potion class. A billowing coat. Thundering heart. Pounding between your legs. Lonely nights in the dorm. Cold eyes. Unyielding lips. Dismissive huffs. Cold shoulders. Years of denial. Years of hiding. It rushed towards and through you like galloping centaurs. You were panting. Light sweat started to mist your skin and your hands shook.

What would you do, what would happen, if I unbuttoned those twelve buttons… If I kissed you… If I loved your body as I love your mind and soul..? “(y/n).” The single word of your name left his lips in a silent breath. It danced in the air. Your eyes grew wider as the realisation hit you. He had yet again read your mind. But before you had a chance to blush further or yell words of intrusion he stepped towards you.

It caught you off-guard. His movements were so graceful and swift. He grabbed you, fiercely. Your body suddenly pressed against his. His cold hands landed on your body, one at the small of your back pressing you towards him, one at the nape of your neck holding you tightly to he could look straight into your wavering eyes. “Do, not, play, with me…” His words were a rush of breath - so silent yet so strong. It heated your face and his grip tightened as your own hands travelled up to his shoulders.

“S-severus, this is, this is wrong.” Your words stilled him, his body seemingly frozen. “Why?” he simply asked without letting you go. You stuttered but pressed out the words. “We were student and professor, your amazing and wonderful in every sense, I have longed for you since; since forever and you… You…” Tears pricked at your eyes and he placed a soft, oh so feather-light, kiss on your forehead. “We were. Not any longer. My feelings for you, this, is not new. It is ancient as the world. It has been forever and will be forever. My affection and want for you are unparalleled,” he said before leaning slightly back so you could see all of his face. The hooked nose, the thin mouth, the harch lines and the dark circles under his eyes. It all was perfection, to you.

You could not fathom what he was saying, how could his feelings for you be ancient? How could it be as old as the world itself? It confused you to no end but at the same time, you were filled to the brink of explosion with joy and relief. “Severus…” you mumbled his name and he gave you another one of those smiles. I just want you to kiss me, kiss me and be done with it… “No, (y/n), we will never be done. But we will begin,” he said and you had no time to collect yourself before his lips were pressed to yours. His grip hard and firm, his pounding heart could be felt against your own chest as he pressed himself into you.

Jolt after jolt travelled through you. Your hands snagged in his hair, he was moving you backwards. You did not care. You feasted on his lips as if you were a starving dog given a chunk of meat. No, no you were feasting on him as a puppy would lick its master when he came home - with joy and excitement. ...like you were my master… The thought rolled through you and Severus broke the kiss. You whimpered at the loss of contact. “Call me that again and we won’t make it to the bedroom,” he warned gravely and your face heated as your legs felt unsteady. “Get out of my mind…” you breathed while panting form the kiss.

He growled and lunged for your lips again. You took every stroke and lick of his lips, every press was answered eagerly by you. It was no secret to you that part of your love for him was his power, his presence, his way of being. It was a big part of him and that domineering, harsh part of him was what had lured you in from the beginning. You; sensitive, soft, kind (y/n) had been bound to a grim, unyielding, brutal man of seemingly never-ending darkness. You were frightened yet enthralled by the man. You feared his darkness yet knew that there could be no dark without light and the darker the shadow the brighter the light behind it.

You were moving again, up some stairs, you stumbled several times yet he held you firmly - kept you from falling. His strength was unyielding and your body was light to him. “Severus…” you panted as he opened a door behind you with a slight squeak. “Hush,” he said and kissed you yet again but this time he travelled down your chin and landed on your throat. The warmth of his lips was searing. The bedroom was dark and you could barely make out any details. Not that you even tried. You were too occupied by him. His lips, his hands, his breathes.

He pulled at your jacket, you shed it on the floor. Your shirt was next, he didn’t even bother with he buttons as he just ripped it open to expose your (s/c) skin to him. “Your beautiful,” he murmured and kissed your collarbones one by one. His hands held your hips, they were cold yet burned you. I, I can’t, I need… Like a puppy needs petting from its master I need- Severus’s growl rippled through the heavy air and he raised himself up to his full height. “Do not play with me, do not call me that unless you want to play…” His words were harsh and his eyes wicked. Ignited as you had never seen them before. You swallowed harshly.

You fingers trailed down from his hair, over his shoulders and towards the cravat. You looked up at him through you lashes with a wicked smile. You, master, have no idea what I’ve been dreaming of… You did not say the words out loud, that was too much but in mind, you could speak however and about whatever. You were braver in your mind than in your words. He arched an eyebrow towards you, you untied the cravat and pulled it from around his neck. You tossed it behind you in hopes of it landing on the bed somewhere back there.

“(y/n), careful now…” You gave him a small yet wicked grin as you moved to his many buttons of the frock beneath the billowing coat. You stopped before touching the first button. You instead grabbed the shoulders of the coat and pushed it off his shoulders. He let go of your hips to let the coat fall to the floor. “Thank you,” you said softly and his hands were back on your hips. Holding you firmly. To steady you or himself you didn’t know.

Your hands move to the first button again and slowly you began unbuttoning all twelve buttons. The tension was heavy, the aris seemed too still and no sounds were heard. As if the house was locked away somewhere - hidden somewhere no others could reach. It was just him and you.

As you released the last button his frock coat opened fully - revealing a black shirt with more buttons. You pulled at the frock coat and it - with some force - came of him. You were panting, his chest was heaving. Your heart pounded and your own blood seemed to roar in your ears. “Don’t gawk,” he said harshly as you were indeed gawking at the many, many little buttons of his shirt. Your fingers were already feeling a bit numb and your hands were shaking. You were too aroused, too eager, you had longed for too long after this moment. It could not come fast enough for you. Fucking buttons! You roared in your head as you scowled at the black little buttons. Severus chuckled and let go of your hips.

He pushed you slightly backwards, your calves hit the end of the bed when you stopped moving. He deftly unbuttoned your pants and pulled them off together with your shoes and socks - you had no idea how he did it but you were nearly naked in an instant. He’s experienced… Too, too experienced maybe? You suddenly felt shy and scared of what was to come. You didn’t have a great deal of experience, a little but apparently not enough to satisfy him. Maybe I can’t, maybe he won’t… Maybe I’m not good enough for- “Schhh, no more. Do not belittle yourself or the pleasure I find in you, you have no idea (y/n)... No, idea,” he said harshly in a low rumbling growl.

His words echoed in your heart and groin. You nearly whimpered as his finger stroked you jawline softly but with intent. He held your gaze for a moment before his eyes flicker to your mouth. “Lay down, pup,” he said oh so softly. You obeyed and lowered yourself down to the bed before moving upwards. He roved your body with his dark eyes, a wicked gleam to them that had not been there a moment earlier.

He ripped open his shirt, no buttons scattered. They just slid through their holes as if obeying a command from him. You whimpered and panted as he stood before you, shirtless. His pale skin glowed form what little light came through the two windows in the room. You let your eyes linger a bit before you watched as his hands deftly undid his pants and got rid of the rest of his clothes in some swift movements that were somehow graceful.

You wetted your lips as he stood before you in all his naked glory. He was not what you had expected. He was not what you had thought. He had a slight belly, yet his body was not fat or untrained. His thighs were wide and looked ridged. His manhood was far from what you had ever dreamt of. Not in your wildest dreams had you been able to imagine such pride of a limb.

“Approve?” he asked with a rumble, you had no words for him. Only a nod. He gave you a small smile and took the two steps needed to arrive at the foot of the bed. “You take away all my thoughts of right, you obliterate all my walls, you, (y/n), make me a monster of lust…” His words washed over you and it felt as though they had been inside of him for a long, long time. “Spread your legs, pup,” he commanded with a soft bite to his dark voice. You obeyed instantly.

Sweat misted your skin as he crawled up between your legs. He kissed end nibbled, licked and stroked with his lips and tongue. You whimpered and bucked as he reached the apex of your thighs, right by your groin. He gave you a final, soft lick before travelling up your belly. Over your chest with a light flick of his tongue over each nipple that was stiff with arousal. “Severus…” you panted as his mouth kept travelling towards you own. “Pup…” he breathed against your cheek, “look at me…” You moved your head and looked at him as one of his cold hands travelled up the side of your body and the other kept him steady by the side of your head.

“Say it, once more. I’ll listen to your mind…” He said, seemingly he understood that in actual words you were not as brave, not as strong or vulgar. But in mind, you could tell him, you could ask him. You could say the things your dark side longed to utter. Love with me, touch me, connect with me in every way physically possible… Master… Your thoughts were hushed and your skin showed the heat that swirled through your veins from the thoughts, his touch, his proximity.

He smiled; a soft yet wicked smile. His onyx eyes gleamed and seemed to turn black as he leaned in and kissed you fervently. The passion he held for you leaked through as his movements quickened. Hardened. “Mmh, pup…” he mumbled before he dove to your groin - licking, suckling, stroking and loving with his lips and tongue. You whimpered his name as he drove you towards your destination of climax.

“Open your legs, pup.” His command was harsh and you obeyed instantly. “That’s it, good pup.” You felt embarrassed and endeared, belittled and empowered by his nickname for you in this game of dominance. He kept up his play of torture as his hands kneaded your thighs and hips. His skin misted with sweat and his breaths seemed harder and faster - just as your own were.

Your hands fisted in his hair and he hissed as you tugged but you felt, you could simply tell, that he enjoyed your harsh grip of his black tendrils. “Severus…” you whined as he built you up, up, up. Forced you to climb higher and higher. He gave one final stroke of his tongue and left you right on the edge. Every muscle in your body was tens, every nerve ending tingled and you felt such a need for release that tears pricked your eyes. He took his sweet time to climb your body, his skin rubbing against your own as he laid atop of you.

You pleaded, begged and writhed beneath him. Yet he gave you no release. “P-please,” you whined as tears rolled down your cheeks and he kissed them away. “Tell me you’ll stay,” he said. His voice was void of passion and heat, void from lust and feeling. It was a hollow sound that stabbed you right in the heart. Wrenched around like a rusted blade. Wha- what are you talking about? I, I don’t, what? You had no idea what he was asking you or what he wanted. You could not wrap you overheated brain around his words or his empty voice.

“Tell me you will stay, (y/n). Please,” he breathed and laid a light kiss to your temple. You shuddered as his manhood poked you. He was just as aroused as you, you could feel it. Yet he could speak with such hollowness. I will say whatever you want me to say... “I’m not asking for what I want you to say, I’m asking for you to stay, be mine, live with me. Be mine,” he growled and heat came back to his voice, passion spilt from his body like waves of heat.

Your heart quickened. Your brain went blank. The passion coiling and writhing within you became a dull ache. The world fell away as the reality of his words hit you like a bag of bricks. “You- you want me?” you stuttered, your voice half chocked. He only nodded, he did not look at you and you felt as though he was afraid to do so. As if something would change if he did. “Is it not obvious that I want you (y/n)? Have I not bared myself for you? Brought you to my home? In to my bed…”

His pride poked you again and it drew out a small his from you as the passion and arousal surged and came back with full force. “I will stay, forever.” You said the words with finality. There was, after all, nothing you wanted more than him. He was everything, even though you did not really know him you knew him more than most. You knew him, you felt him. He knew you, he felt you. There was something, a bond or bridge between you and nothing would be able to destroy it. I will stay with you until the end of time… Sev… You let your thoughts ring clear as the tears rolled down from a new reason

“Submit to me… Pup,” he said and the game was back. You were his, he was yours. A Master with his puppy. The idea thrilled you and you started to let him in. You submitted to him as you had never surrendered before. You gave him everything, let him take whatever he wanted as he gave you so much more in return.

Together you climbed, him between your legs, pounding relentlessly while stroking and petting you. He gave you soft kisses and harsh licks from time to time anywhere he could reach. Higher and higher you went until there was no more space to climb, as the world fell away from underneath your feet and you both fell through a core shattering climax. He moaned your name and it was the most glorious sound you had ever heard. Unlike him, you panted his name in a rush. Too consumed by the burning sensation that filled your body and too rallied by the tensing of muscles and tingling of nerves.

It took a long while before you could breathe again. It took even longer for your body to relax. But what took the longest was realising that you had been asked, and said yes, to stay with him. Be his. Be with him. But… what, what does that mean exactly? “It means,” you jumped slightly from his sudden words, “that I love you.” You went utterly still. Frozen. “It means, I will be yours and you will be mine.” He gave a kiss to your shoulder before he rose up on his side, supported by one arm as his other arm draped over you. “It means, we will live together and love each other in every way possible.”

Your body tingled again, it was all so sudden and your day had been brutal and wonderful. You were tired and wiped out. He just smiled and kissed your soft cheek. “Sleep,” he said in that rumbling voice of his. But you could not follow that command. “No,” you said softly, “no I don’t want to sleep. I want to lay here with you - until today becomes tomorrow…” Fear crept through you, just in case midnight breaks this spell and I lose you forever along with anything resembling a life.

Your thoughts were dark and Severus seemed to not be pursuing your mind at that moment as he only kissed the top of your head and pulled the cover over the both of you. You snuggle din close to him and he seemed unsure of what to do. It made you smile, “Just hold me, please,” you said softly, sweetly. “I have never done that before,” he said as he tentatively allowed you to curl up in his arms, your head against his chest. “I figured, don’t worry, you’re already doing it perfectly…” You mumbled as you felt that post-climax heaviness take over your body. Perhaps I’ll sleep, just, just for a moment…

You fell asleep in Severus’s arms, to the steady thumping of his heart and his strong arms wrapped protectively around you. You could have sworn that you felt him smile right as sleep claimed you. Right as you left reality only to be disappointed by your dreams since nothing could compare to your reality now.

Hey guys! So this took a long time to get posted but I just wrote this entire thing - today, like right now. xD It was a challenge I tell you, but I’m hoping you really liked this fic! ^^ Also… Writing sexual scenes so that the reader can be a male (have a male gender) or a female (have a female gender) is damn hard guys! O.O But, I think I managed, what do you guys think? xD

[Oct:2020]

Masterlist page // Masterlist post

Taglist: @lizlil

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