#because the moment after he drops the filter and accent | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

duuhrayliegh · 3 years

Text

europe - request

pairing: sebastian stan x singer!reader (seb!pov)

summary: singer!reader writes another song, this one is about seb

warnings: suggestive content (*wink wonk*), language, the works ya know

a/n: this took so long bc im not lyrically inclined and there isn’t even that many lyrics in here. i can’t even guys this was a nice break though. i liked the concept, i hope i lived up to your dreams. :)

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are both open loves!

check out my other writing on my full m.list

Sebastian was doing a press interview for his new movie. It was his first on television interview. First time being back in the studio for The Late Late Show with James Corden. First time since you and him had gotten together. He was eager to see what James had in store for him.

He was wearing a bright yellow shirt paired with a red leather jacket. His legs were clad with a different pair that he wanted to wear originally because you couldn’t get quite enough of his thighs. Had he worn the other pair, there would’ve been a prominent wet spot on one leg where you rode him to your own satisfaction. The memory made him bite his lip and adjust his pants to try to quell his oncoming boner.

“Good luck out there tonight, lovey. You’re gonna crush it.” Your voicemail warmed Sebastian’s heart. He missed you a lot, but you were currently on your own press junket. Your new album finally came out and your manager had been running you ragged. Sebastian was so proud of everything you’ve accomplished, and he wasn’t afraid to show it.

“Hi, Mr. Stan. You’re needed on deck in five minutes.” He nodded at the assistant producer who stuck her head in his dressing room. Sebastian ran his hands through his hair one more time before deciding enough was enough.

“Well, this is as good as it's gonna get.” He murmured to himself as he walked out of the dressing room. He rolled his shoulders, snuggling into the leather jacket encasing his back. Sebastian took a swig of a water bottle from the table backstage. He still got nervous when doing interviews, always worried that he’s going to say the wrong thing.

“And now I would like to introduce our next guest. You’ve seen him as Bucky Barnes in the Marvel Cinematic Universe for the last ten years. He’s played the borderline psychotic Jeff Gillooly in I, Tonya, and the corrupt Sheriff Bodecker from The Devil All The Time. It is my pleasure to introduce the one, the only, Sebastian Stan!”

James stood, clapping as Sebastian made his way to the main set area. He raised his right hand, his left remaining on his stomach. As he approached James, Sebastian switched hands, his left coming up as an offer for James to shake. Afterwards, James held his hand out to the chair beside his desk, waiting for Sebastian to sit down.

“Hi, Sebastian! It’s so good to have you back.” James’ accent broke Sebastian’s name up into three distinct syllables, bringing a smile to Seb’s face.

“It’s good to be back, man.” He grinned big, waiting for James to ask the first question. Once they got into it, the interview went smoothly. Sebastian was able to avoid giving out spoilers for his new project, leaving just enough to the imagination. James was in a fit of laughter after Sebastian had told a crazy story from being on set. James wiped tears away from his lower lashline, calming down just enough to catch his breath.

“Okay, so I want to move onto something else.” Sebastian sobered up quickly, unsure of where James was taking the conversation. “We want all the juicy details about your relationship with Y/N.” Sebastian’s brow raised as he pulled a face at James’ question. He laughed to himself for a minute before answering.

“Ya know, we really have you to thank for that.” Sebastian pointed at James, before bringing that same finger to rub his eye.

“Really?” The man’s voice pitched up, brows hitting his hairline.

“Oh yeah. We were only introduced because of your show.” Sebastian leaned back in his chair, remembering that night with you. The two of you had gone out for drinks, talking for hours at the bar and then even longer in his hotel room. He remembered waking up with you wrapped up in his arms. You didn’t have sex that night, but you definitely did the second night.

And oh god, if that second night wasn’t just as amazing as the first. The face you made whenever you climaxed danced it’s way to the forefront of Sebastian’s mind. Not good, definitely not good. He had to readjust himself in his pants again, crossing his legs to cover up his rather large problem.

“Yeah, we started dating that same week. Kept it quiet though.” Sebastian held his palm out in the air, bouncing it up and down.

“Right, right. And do you want to tell everyone how you did end up revealing that you and Y/N were an item?” Sebastian looked down at his lap, smirking to himself. “Or should we just play the clip?”

A clip played for the studio audience. It was Y/N doing her makeup for the Vogue Beauty Secrets Youtube video. Sebastian waltzed in the background of the shot. It then cuts to Sebastian kissing Y/N on the cheek, brandishing the hickey’s that she had sucked onto his cheek the night before. Mhm, I remember that night too.

Sebastian had surprised Y/N by coming to see her. He wasn’t doing anything and he missed you, so why waste a perfectly good opportunity. He spent the night there completely ravishing you until you begged him to stop. That night he proudly wore your thighs as earmuffs, burying his face in you. He really needed to stop reminiscing during an interview.

“How adorable. Was that planned at all? Or did you just do that because you could?” Sebastian shook his head, his right hand scratching at the stubble decorating his jaw.

“Oh, no. It definitely wasn’t planned. I honestly don’t remember if I knew Y/N was filming that morning, so I’m just glad I put on pants before I left the bedroom.” James laughed at Sebastian’s comment.

“Okay, so I’ve gotta ask your opinion on something though.” Sebastian made a hum of acknowledgement, signalling for James to continue. James leaned back, pulling out a cardstock of your new album. “So, this is Y/N’s new album, it just came out about three or four weeks ago?” The crowd clapped for you, and Sebastian cheered along with them.

“What do ya want my opinion on? If it’s the album, then I gotta tell ya, I loved it. Every single song on there is absolutely amazing.” James nodded, a smirk forming on his lips making Sebastian think he made a mistake.

“So you’re aware of the song Europe?” Sebastian smirked, nodding his head because he knew where this was going. “Would you like to tell us what that’s about?” James laughed as Sebastian stammered, looking for the right words. “I mean, let’s just read some of the lyrics.” James looked at the cards in his hands as Sebastian drifted into his thoughts again.

You had brought him into the studio before finalizing Europe. He remembers watching you twist your hands at your waist and continuously cracking your knuckles. Sebastian was curious because you hadn’t ever been like that when showing him a song before. Every question he had about your anxiety revolving around the song was thrown away when he heard it.

Europe was an ode to Sebastian, all of Sebastian. He couldn’t help pulling you down onto his lap by your waist as he listened. You were the only two in the studio, so the two of you were free to do whatever you wanted. The funny thing about that night was that there was a new track recording.

“Oh shit, Seb.” The dam broke afterwards, peels of laughter leaving your lips without explanation. Your right hand raised to your mouth, attempting (and failing) to quiet your giggles.

“Babe, why the ‘oh shit’?” You held up a finger to your lips, telling him to be quiet and listen. He strained his ears, waiting for his own ‘oh shit’ moment. Then, his own voice filtered into his ears, making him crease his brow in confusion. “What is that?”

“That’s the audio from when I first played you Europe.” Small giggles passed your lips again. “I was going to ask you if I could use, like, a sound byte from it for either the beginning or the end of the song.” Sebastian nodded, slightly amazed that you were so creative with your work. “But, I forgot to turn off the recording.” Sebastian’s eyes locked on your expression, waiting for him to connect the dots. He pulled a face and then,

“Oh shit.” His eyes widened, a huff of laughter escaping. “Wait, so it caught all of it?” Your lips rolled inwards, holding back laughs as you nodded your head. Sebastian raised a brow, his eyes flicking over your face. “Use it.” He had a few new hickeys after that night too, but not after decorating your body with a few of his own.

“Sebastian, I would like you to read a few lines from the song, please.” James handed Sebastian a card, a snort leaving Sebastian’s body involuntarily. He glanced at the cards, know the lyrics by heart already. He took a big breath, reading the lines that James chose. He threw him a look with his eyes, head tilting slightly toward the British man.

“Uh, okay, here we go.” Sebastian laughed to himself, blowing out a breath through clenched lips. He lifted the card again, “You know,” dropping his hand back to his lap while raising his other hand. “You know, she’s gonna make fun of me for this right?” James laughed, looking into the camera as if he was on The Office, then to the audience with a duh look on his face.

“Sebastian. We’re going to make fun of you.” The crowd didn’t hesitate to join in James’ amusement. Sebastian dropped his head into his hands, groaning loudly. “Do you need a little encouragement?” The audience began cheering and clapping for Sebastian.

“Fine, alright, alright.” He shook his head before starting. “Long nights with hickeys earned like a badge of honor. Teasing kisses, twisted sheets, all signs of true seduction.” Sebastian looked up from his hands, expecting James to say something. All James offered, though, was a wave of his hand for Sebastian to continue. “I never have to worry because all my sins are forgiven when I’m with you.” James held his hand up, stopping Sebastian from continuing.

“Okay, let’s dissect that, Mr. Stan.” James propped his elbow on his interview desk, placing his head at an angle in his palm. “What is this song about?” Sebastian’s lips curled inward, stopping himself from laughter.

“James,” Sebastian leaned forward against the arm of the couch. “I thought this was a family show.” The British man quirked a brow, sweeping both hands in front of his body gesturing to the studio.

“This is the Late Late Show, Sebastian.” He turned back to the audience, addressing them and the cameras. “And that is all the time we have tonight! Thank you to Sebastian for coming on the show with me tonight! And thank all of you for tuning in tonight. We’ll see you next time.” The producer beside the camera signaled that the show ended and Sebastian turned back to James.

“It’s a good song.” Sebastian smiled wide afterwards, saying his goodbyes to the crew. He was back in the safety of his dressing room when his phone started ringing.

“Hello?” He knew that it was you from the personally assigned ringtone you picked out when he wasn’t looking.

“The Internet is going to eat you alive.” Sebastian grinned as your peels of laughter trickled in through the speaker of his phone.

“Oh yeah, could you imagine if I told them that it wasn’t just random sounds at the end?” He could just imagine your smirk at his mention of your little addition to Europe.

“We’re gonna have to do that again.” Sebastian paused, waiting for you to explain. “Although I think next time we should do a visual along with the audio. You pickin’ up what I’m putting down Stan?” Sebastian smirked to himself, thinking about being able to watch himself bring you to the brink over and over again, even when you’re not together. His pants got tighter at the idea.

“I think we might have to look into that, Y/L/N.”

321 notes · View notes

adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy · 3 years

Note

i had a craving for some warm apple cider and it reminded me of etrry. he would fuck that shit up omg omg christian girl fall is totally alienrry he would love going to the apple orchards and shit

The first time he tries a pumpkin spice latte, his feedback makes Y/N’s stomach flutter with endearment.

Harry smack his lips as he savors the spices and cozy notes in the drink, furrowing his brows in thought as he picks through all of the different emotions the taste produces. After a moment, his entire body relaxes, and a homey smile makes its way across his dimpled cheeks. “It tastes the way a warm hug feels.”

Y/N’s lips twitch as she sips from her own drink, letting his interpretation sink in. He’s recently taken to relating flavors to feelings and experiences, and the analogies he conjures up always amuse her to no end. “That was pretty poetic of you.”

Harry simpers over the brim of the coffee cup, hugging it with both hands as indulges another gulp. “Thank you, I think.”

She can’t help but notice how big his hands are— how they easily dwarf the paper mug, and how pretty his nails look covered in sage green polish (she’d painted them that color for the sake of irony, and he’d thought the joke was hilarious). The more she dwells on every detail of his hands— the veins that chisel over the back as he tightens his hold, or the length of his nimble fingers, or the small alien hieroglyphic tattoo along the area between his index finger and thumb— the more her thoughts derail towards the graphic end of the spectrum. Specifically, how he’d had those same hands all over her body the night prior.

How they had been tangled in her hair as they stumbled towards her room blindly, too lost in the sensation of each other’s lips to give anything else much attention. How his hands had felt as they hurriedly coasted down her chest and along the bottom of her sweatshirt, pulling it off in one swift motion so he could taste every inch of her skin, his tongue leaving a sweltering heat along her cleavage. How they had gripped her knees and spread them open as he situated himself onto his stomach on the mattress, a faint white cast sheathing his irises as he’d seen the way she was already dripping in anticipation. How his palms had held her down to the bed as he’d bobbed his head between her thighs, his tongue lapping at her sloppily as he’d moaned into her clit, the sound wet and guttural as his back muscles visibly tightened while she’d tugged at his curls and scratched at his scalp. How one hand had grasped her hip desperately as the other wrapped around her throat, its first two fingers weighing on her tongue as she’d sucked on them feverishly, wisps of his name escaping her throat as he’d pounded raw pleasure into the pit of her tummy. How he’d whimpered and gasped into her ear as his nails dug memories into the skin of her waist, and how she’d caught a glimpse of his fingerprints this morning in the mirror, dusted across her flesh in the form of bruises.

Harry’s voice yanks the girl out of her head. “What are you drinking?”

Y/N isn’t really one to crave coffee during the afternoon, so she’d picked up a bottle of rosé on the way home from grocery shopping, right before going to the drive-through at the nearest Starbucks to get him his beverage. He’d seen a commercial for it on TV the other day, and had expressed his interest for it during breakfast as she’d shoveled scrambled eggs onto a plate while he cut up a green apple across the kitchen island, popping a slice into his mouth while neatly organizing the others along his circular platter. And how could she say no to him, especially when he’d been standing there with such a hopeful look in those olive green puppy eyes, his cheeks puffed out with fruit and her teeth marked all over his neck and chest.

“It’s, uhm—” She clears her throat roughly, expelling the image of Harry’s toned stomach and thick happy trail from her brain. She snaps her gaze up to meet his, and the blissfully unaware innocence behind his tone and over his features makes blood rush to her cheeks. “It’s rosé.”

Harry sets down his cup carefully on her coffee table, shifting further back onto the couch and slouching into the cushions, his legs spreading open casually as he settles in. “That’s a type of alcohol, correct?”

Y/N glances down at his thighs momentarily, where his mesh shorts are riding up dangerously high. “Yep.”

If he notices, he doesn’t to show it, seen in how his accent maintains the same nonchalant curiosity as before. He throws an arm around her shoulders easily, scooting his body closer to her own across the sofa. He’s gotten way touchier since they started sleeping together, and she can’t say she doesn’t like it. She likes it more than she should, probably.

“The same liquid in those spiked ciders you got me last time? The sour one that incapacitates you?”

Y/N scoffs lightly at his accurate description, willingly leaning into his torso and folding her legs up under herself as she props her wine glass on her knee. “Mmhm. But that only happened because you drank the entire pack like a moron, remember?”

Harry rolls his eyes at her chastising tone and flat expression. “How was I supposed to know?”

“Maybe you should have asked me before randomly drinking things from that shelf in the fridge.”

“You were in the shower.”

“You could have waited.”

“I was thirsty.”

“There’s a water filter at the sink.”

“I wanted juice.”

“There was grape juice beside the milk.”

“I wanted apple and the bottles had pictures of them on the label. My apologies for using my practical thinking skills and measures of deduction.”

Y/N sighs in good-natured exasperation, shoving him with her shoulder as revenge for his snarky comebacks. “Well, look where your practical thinking skills and measures of deduction got you— bent over the toilet bowl with puke shooting out of your nostrils. Now you know that anything with the word, ‘alcohol’ on it needs to be taken in moderation. Right?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good.” The young woman takes a sip from her glass, savoring it patiently as the sweet and tangy flavor filters through her taste buds. “Lesson learned, then.”

“Unfortunately.” The alien deadpans, pinching along the underside of her underarm just to feel her squirm and squeak. He smiles childishly at her reaction, giggling as she curses at him under her breath.

“You almost made me spill my drink.” She grumbles, getting comfortable once more against his warm body. “And this is the good stuff, too. I’d break the bottle over your head.”

“A bit rash, I think.” Harry snorts sarcastically, eyeing the pink moscato for a moment as it swishes inside her chilled cup, her fingers leaving smudges in the condensation. He then lilts his gaze back towards her own, his tone soft and full of wonder. “Can I try?”

“Promise not to throw up all over my floor again?” The girl quips tauntingly, jutting her chin towards her rug symbolically.

Harry exhales in surrendered embarrassment, lifting his hand and hooking their pinkies together. “Pinky swear.”

Y/N nods her head in the agreement, fending off a fond grin as she lifts the glass to his plush, rosy lips. “Go ahead, then, Area 51.”

The alien snorts softly at the nickname, well aware of its origins now that he’s learned more about Earth’s relationship with extraterrestrial components. Those documentaries on the Discovery Channel are quite educational.

Harry sifts his mouth over the rim of the glass, making eye contact with Y/N to let her know he’s ready for her to pour the drink in. She tilts the wine, watching it funnel past his lips to gauge how much is an adequate amount. She pulls back, observing as he nurses the liquid pensively, his brows creasing like before as he distinguishes all the different flavors present. He smacks his lips again, blinking slowly as he forms his opinion, licking at a drop that had escaped the corner of his mouth.

“So?” Y/N inquires, raising an eyebrow expectantly. “What’s it taste like?”

Harry cranes his sight over to her, the studious expression on his face melting into one of slight smugness, as if what he’s about to say is something amusing. The left edge of his mouth jolts upwards, a sly smirk carving its way across his face as he presses his tongue along the inside of his cheek almost arrogantly, his eyes raking down her body in an objectifying once-over. His descent stops at her clasped thighs, which he focuses on for a few seconds longer than she deems acceptable, and then his gaze travels back up to lock with her own. There’s now a different type of darkness to the jade swirling around his pupils, electrified by something he has yet to express to her fully, but seems excited to do so.

The young man leans forward, and Y/N almost falls back at the sudden closeness of their proximity. He ghosts his lips over the curve of her jaw and across the slope of her cheekbone, stopping at the shell of her ear as if he wants to share a secret. He drags his pillowy lips over the area with every intention to rile her up, his skin cool and damp from the beverage, but unbelievably warm beneath the initial shock of that caveat. His breath carries the same juxtaposing sensations— it’s cold on impact, but heats up the farther it travels across the side of her face and down to the pulse in her neck. His words are low and heavy, but sultry and smooth like the wine they’d shared; a seductive whisper that intoxicates her in a fiery manner that no amount of alcohol ever could.

“It tastes like sex. It tastes the way you do between your thighs, and it feels the way you feel when I’m buried between your legs. And if I close my eyes and savor it, I can taste you whining my name into my mouth, and I can taste you begging for it on my tongue.”

#alienrry #enjoy <3

306 notes · View notes

secondhand-trash · 4 years

Text

Sun Shower

Kinktober 2020 — knotting

A/N: I need everyone to know that anything I write that has something to do with foxes is immediately self-indulgent, I cannot begin to describe you the joy I feel whenever I write about it

Pairing: kitsune!Miya Atsumu x f!reader

Description: Foxes, they mate for life.

Warning: feral foxtsumu, biting, oral (receiving), vaginal penetration, knotting, creampie, borderline cumflation but just putting it here to be safe

Word count: 4551

(more of the modern magic au here)

The sound of sizzling filled the small apartment you called home, the weak venting system of the old complex far too incompetent to truly stop the blended smell of oil from spreading everywhere.

You were laying on your couch that you bought from a second hand store when you moved in, one that could barely fit in the two of you if you sit any less properly. Atsumu had claimed that it would be alright, saying with his loopy accent that he could just turn back into a fox when you cuddle to save space. That, on its own was far too tempting of an offer to give up and so you used the money that you had saved from buying the couch that was technically a love seat to get high quality tuna sashimi to celebrate your first night in your new home.

It was a lie, he never did willingly turn into the cuddly fox like he said he would when you tried to get him to scooch over because his much larger frame was squishing against you, only pulling you above him in a position that defied human anatomy before dozing off to his nap again.

“You should know that foxes are deceitful creatures,” he mumbled in his sleep when you smacked his arm for him to loosen up his grip, “should have known better...”

Deceitful creatures indeed, who were infamous in folklores for casting illusions on innocent humans only to run away leaving nothing but echoes of laughter once their tricks were see through. Sometimes you would walk up to him and poke his chubby cheeks out of nowhere, replying with a smirk that you were checking if he would eventually show his true form when he winced.

You wondered if he had pulled any tricks to get you to be with him. You fell for him little by little with harmless bickering and occasional moments of sudden charm that had your heart beating faster. Even though you were groaning inwardly that you couldn’t believe you were swooning for Miya fucking Atsumu of all people when he was just deliberately pissing you off with his grinning face just moments earlier. But before you knew it, you had already gotten used to making space for him and his flicking tail that always accidentally hit you when he turned around.

You couldn’t say you were surprised when he brought you to the neighbourhood Inari temple that day, pulling you close to him by your wrist and confessed to you in a voice that he thought was incredibly swoon-worthy. You rolled your eyes when he tilted his head at you with a smirk that seemed out of place for what he just said, mostly because you could not believe this really was the guy you stayed up at night thinking about.

You could never forget how almost immediately after you returned his feelings. a droplet of water fell from the sky. You gasped when you felt the rain soaking into your shirt but was far too mesmerised by the way sun filtered through the rain and made it looks like threads of gold and silver appearing in the middle of a sunny day. Atsumu looked up at the sky and laughed, opening his palm to catch the rain while his other hand held you close to him.

“They say sun showers are the signal that the band to welcome the fox bride has set off,” he said, golden eyes glimmering brighter than the sun as he leaned down. His breath was warm against your lips when he spoke again before closing the gap, “the gods must be sending a message.”

Much later into your relationship after his perfect confession, you would learn that he seemed to be very friendly with the god that resided in the exact same temple he brought you to. If the god seemed to be casually good friends with your lover, who was to say that the “message from the gods” was not deliberately planned?

But trick or not, you could not forget the way he smiled when you told him that you also liked him with a grumble. Not one of his usual lop-sided grins or mocking lift of his lips, a real smile, the kind where his mouth could not be wider and he had to force them shut so he wouldn’t be showing his teeth. Nor could you forget the feeling of his tail that appeared out of nowhere curling over your leg when he held you close, the soft fuzz of his fur sending tingles all over your skin as if the feeling of his lips on yours was not enough to have you going haywire.

You could not say it was a scam when you fell for it willingly, that was what you believed.

Right now, the cunning fox was standing in front of the stove with one hand on his waist, his tail swaying side to side as he whistled a tune you had never heard of before. Sometimes, when you blinked, you would see the shadow of what seemed to be more tails swooshing around only for it to return to just that one brush when you focused again.

The number of tails a fox had was a sign of status and power, he had told you one time while he was forcing you to give him scratches with his head on your lap. The dart of red at the outer corner of his eyes furrowed when he scrunched his face up in comfort, whimpering in content as he moved his head around to make you scratch down on the right spot.

More often than so, his antics would make you forget that beyond grinning faces and smooth words, he was indeed a powerful youkai much unlike yourself. Until he would crouch down in front of you after an argument, turning leaves into all sorts of strange objects just to make you laugh even though you were determined to give him the cold shoulder. The soft glow on his skin when he curled up next to you on the bed after just coming down from his high making you admit that he did look whimsical at times.

Some foxes were the gods’ messengers, even though the same fox that might have been worshipped centuries ago was here singing off tune in your kitchen while cooking dinner.

Calling it “off tune” was a bit of a merciful statement, you sighed and stared at the ceiling as his singing got louder and louder. Standing up, you made sure your steps were light enough that even his superb hearing would not catch onto as you slowly made way to the kitchen. His tail was swaying like a gigantic paintbrush, and you held your hands out to focus on your target.

“Heh??????”

The chopsticks he was holding in hand dropped onto the frying pan with a clink as he felt the sudden grip on his tail. You could feel his fur standing up like a pompom under your hand, your lips curling up at his reaction as you continued to rub your face against the soft fleece.

“What, what, what are you doing?” he stuttered, his nostrils flailing when he felt a very untimely wave of heat rising in his core. Shivers run down his spine as you handsily toy with his tail, your nails scratching lightly at his skin beneath the coat as you ran your hands up and down.

“Nothing, just checking on your progress.”

Atsumu gulped at how nonchalant you sounded, your hands not once stopping. If you had peeled your eyes away from the floof that had taken up all your attention, you would see that his ears were twitching uncomfortably on his head. His shoulders tensed as he bit his lips, focusing on anything but how he could feel himself popping a boner if you don’t stop it with your hands anytime sooner.

His breathing halted to a paused when you put your chin on his shoulder, your hands still around his tail as you pressed up against his back. He could feel the softness of your chest through your thin shirt and it was not helping with how hypersensitive he was.

“The patty is starting to burn.”

“Huh?” he let out an incomprehensive string of curses when you let go of him with a light shove, his hands flailing to save the poor piece of meat that was crisping up under his lack of attention earlier.

He huffed, wincing at how long it would take him to get the burnt bits off the perfectly fine pan while thinking that he was definitely going to let his frustration be known later.

Atsumu leaped on you the moment you were about to pull your phone out to do some scrolling before bed.

“Tsumu, what is it?” you asked, letting your phone slide out of your palm as you stared flatly at the man that was pinning you down. He was smiling, like the scheming foxes straight out of a fable as he looked down at you. His pupils were squeezed into two thin lines, slicing his golden eyes into two halves. You could see the pattern like amber as he stared you down, the dart of black pulsating as he exhaled through his nose.

“You knew what you were doing.”

“Know what?” you asked again, this time slightly more amused than the last when the answer you were seeking for slowly appeared in your head. His ears were standing up on his head, the thin strand of fur at the very tip flicking as it twitched. His tail was swaying between his legs that trapped you under him, his position much like a predator that was ready to feast on his prey.

The chase was part of the fun too.

“You were railing me up,” each word fell off his lips with a short pause in between, his tone a special kind of sultry as he exaggerated the slight raise of his voice after the sentence.

Still laying flat with your face right below his, you glanced down at where a slight tent was poking against the material of his sweats.

Horny bastard.

“How did I rail you up?”

He snorted in bafflement, his head tilting like he could not believe what you just said as the wagging of his tail got wilder. “You know that my- hmph!”

You bite your lips to stop the chuckle from slipping past when he let out a choked whine the moment you hooked on leg over his waist and brushed the heel of your feet along his tail.

“Like this?” you said, widening your eyes to forge innocence when you could physically felt the fur on his tail standing up at the stimulation. His face was contorted, the nonchalant smile on his face replaced by a scrawl. You would not mistake the grumble from the back of his throat when your hand reached up to rub his pointy ears between your fingers, scratching your nails down on the soft fleece at the bottom as your feet not once stopped.

He glared at you, his eyebrows locking together in place when he felt the dull ache in his groins growing. His face was on fire, a flush dusting at the top of his cheek and threatening to spread everywhere else too.

“Or this?”

You were grinning ear to ear when you press your pelvis up against him with the help of your leg around his waist. What was only a small tent before was now a full on bulge and his tail stiffen under your foot at the pressure. His arms that were at both sides of your head was shuddering, his muscles flexing as you continued to blatantly feel him up.

One press of your heel on the base of his tail where the fur met with his hips was what made him snap. The animalistic growl that rumbled out from the back of his throat shaken you to the core when he latched on you, pinning you down by the shoulder with one hand while the other gripped onto your thigh that was still at the side of his waist. His lips were messy on you, forcing your mouth open with a bite on your bottom lip before his tongue dominated your senses. Muffled moans and breathy groans slipped out between heated kisses, his hand trailing down and groping anything he could get his hands on when you melted under his force and let him take the lead as he pleased.

You let out a breathy sigh when he released your lips and proceed down your neck, leaving trails of saliva as he went with the bites and sucks he left. His canines brushing against the sensitive skin had you whimpering, giving him the perfect opportunity to bite down. You yelped at the pain, your hand shooting up to find leverage in his hair as he licked at the sore spot he just clamped down on. The warmth of his spit left your skin tingling, the mark of his teeth still apparent to your senses with the dull ache that remained.

His hands clawed impatiently at the thin shirt that clad your body, slipping underneath immediately when you scurried to peel it off of you with a slight arch of your back in the brief removal of his weight on you. You arched against him when he took your nipple in his lips, licking and sucking on the sensitive bud that sent you into an overdrive of pain and pleasure. You moaned when you felt his bared teeth brushing against the perky tip, the air of the room feeling exceptionally chilly with the slight sheen that was left on your skin. His fingers replaced his lips when he moved to the other side, his hand kneading and fondling roughly with your breast while his tongue swirled around the other bud.

His hips were held up as he lost himself in the want to feel more, taste more of you. Out of the corner of your eyes that was threatening to shut tight in reflex, the vigorous flick of his tail was all you can see between your lashes. He looked like a wild animal waiting to pounce on his defenseless catch, the pointy tips of his nails hooking onto the band of your shorts before yanking down with a forceful pull. You arched yourself off the mattress while his lips trailed down from the valley of your breast to the center of your stomach. Nothing could stop you from whining out loud when he shamelessly shoved his nose against the thin cotton of your panties where a damped spot was starting to form, the loud inhale making you squirm underneath him and wanting to push him away in embarrassment.

“Tsumu, don’t-”

Your breath hitched when he cut you off with a snap of his head upwards at glare at you. The low growl that was gritted out from his bearing teeth had your knees weak, the sharp tip of his canines on show as he warned you from stopping him. The look in his eyes was dangerous, like he was about to tear you apart and it was shameful how it made your cunt clench around nothing.

You could still hear the purr from his throat when he dipped his head back down, his tongue poking out to lick a stripe up the crotch of your panties. He had your knees hooked on his shoulder, holding you in place as his tongue mapped out the print of your folds and making you threw your head back against the pillow. You bucked your hips forward, urging him to give you more and his ears twitched at your antics.

One finger hooked under the strip of fabric and you hissed when he shoved it to the side, revealing your pussy that was already coated with a thin shine. He did not waste a moment before latching onto your folds, his tongue that had always been anything but well-behaved parting your pussy and delving in. He groaned at the taste of your arousal, his tail tugging neatly to the side as he dug his fingers into the soft flesh of your thighs and pushing them back further.

He was lapping at you like he had been starved and you were the first meal he had, salvaging every inch of you as far as his tongue could reach and drowning in your scent. His hips were humping against the mattress, trying to relieve some of the ache in his pants that was fueled by the feeling of your skin right under his hands. Your voice came out as broken moans and pants as his tongue plunged in and out of you, the brief moments when he slipped his tongue out of you to catch a breath was when he smeared your juices coating his lips over your clit and sucking on the engorged nub.

Your panties were shoved to the side but the flimsy cotton was still too much of a constraint to the greedy fox and he let go of your legs with a displeased hiss before pulling it down until it was out of his way completely. He did not bother to fling it to the ground before scooping your knees up again, a high-pitched moan ripping from the back of your throat when he flicked his tongue furiously against your sopping folds, your toes pointing in pleasure with your panties still barely hanging on your ankle with how hasty he was at removing it from you just earlier. You felt your limbs numbing at the coil that tightened every time he growled between his teeth against your cunt, kicking your panties off of you before letting your eyelids fell from the white you were seeing in your vision. His name rolled off your lips in a cry when you cum around his mouth, his tongue rubbing against your walls encouragingly as he basked in the sweet sounds you were making.

The fox perked up from between your legs, his long tongue swiping across his lips to lick up your juices that was tinting across his face and strong jaws. His eyes were glinting when he rose up, ears pointing upwards as he took your quivering lips in his once again while his hands fumbled to pull down the band of his sweats. You whimpered into the kiss when you tasted yourself on him, his tail brushing against the side of your waist as the comb of fur swayed behind him now that he was bare. His cock was pressed against his lower stomach, the vein at the side pulsing and beads of pre-cum rolled down his length from the leaking tip. He held your legs up once again, the time pushing your knees all the way back until they were right against your chest.

He sucked in on your scent at the crook of your neck in satisfaction, loving how you were always smelt more euphoric after you were lost in bliss. Rubbing the side of his chin on your neck, you whined at the stretch pulling at the side of your thighs as he messily glided his cock across your folds that was dripping with the mixture of arousal and his spit.

Your soft moan overlapped with the feral grunt he let out when he pushed his tip inside of you with ease from the wetness, the stretch making your fingers dug into his back as he filled you up inch by inch.

Atsumu’s warm huffs of breath was moist against your neck, his nostrils flaring at how warm and tight you were around him. The first thrust set him loose as he focused on breaking you into pieces, each surge of his hips hilted deep inside you with how you were bent in half underneath him. Your brain was in a mush as his tip rubbed against your velvety walls, the vein at the underside of his cock creating extra friction and making your skin burn.

He was not shy with letting you know how much he was enjoying himself, grunting and growling in your ear as he jackhammered into with frigid snaps of his hips. His tail was stiff at his back, the fur on it spiking up as his stomach spasmed. His nails were almost painful on your thighs as he gripped onto you tightly, his broad frame completely towering over yours as he drilled inside of you in a force that felt like he was not going to stop until he shattered your bones.

“Tsu- tsumu!”

He groaned at the way you mewled out his name, your eyes struggling to stay open as a wall of mist glossed over your pupils that were blown out in wanton lust. Your hands clawed at his back for leverage before they found hold on his hair, a loud grunt falling off his trembling lips when your fingers scratched down on his ears.

His thrusts were short and fast, not bothering to bottom out of you completely before slamming back in. The position he had you in allowed him to plow as deep as he wanted, making your toes curl each time his tip slammed against the spongey spot in your lower stomach.

Your breath hitched when you felt the swell at the base of his cock starting to form, stretching your cunt out even more than he already did. He panted in your ear, nibbling at your collar and trailing his tongue along the marks that he had left as his primal desire started to kick in. You whimpered at the feeling of him filling and growing in you, your hands fisting his golden hair egging him on to keep slamming his hips down on you.

“So big...” you whimpered as his knot grew larger and larger, feeling like you were being pulled apart by the seams when he pushed the rounded base inside of you until it locked him in place. The burn from the stretch had you seeing stars and you felt the band in your core snapped when his thrusts turned into rigid humps from your cunt clenching down around the thick base of his girth. His chest was heaving as his breath got heavy, your legs pressed up against his shoulders as his brows twisted together.

Your head was thrown back but if you could look down and see your stomach, you could imagine the outline of his knot being visible even in your belly, pressing up against you and filling you up like nothing else.

The first time you experienced that, you jokingly told him that you could never try anything else after having a taste of getting your brains fucked out with his knot to which he replied with a humph that you should not even think for a second that he would give you the choice of having anything else.

That was a useless statement to make, because you were certain that no one could make you feel as good as he could.

Your pussy was fluttering around him from your high and the tension made him moan. His shoulders were tensed, shuddering as his cock pulsated inside of you. His jaw felt painful from how hard he was clenching it tight, his hands no doubt leaving bruises on your thighs with how hard he was gripping down on you.

A choked whine leaked out from his lips when he finally felt the pent up frustration in him coming out like a river. You whimpered at the warmth that rushed over you as he shot ropes and rope of cum in you, his body stiffening on top of you as he bit his lips from the pleasure that had his mind in blank with no thought other than how you were all wrapped up around him. The was a faint glow on his skin as his muscles clenched, the dart of red at the corner of his eyes like they were actual spurts of flames as he lost control of his power at a moment of vulnerability.

The specks of gold reminded you a lot of the sun shining through the droplets of rain on the day he told you that he was in love with you.

He held you there for a while, the fat load of his release making you felt like you were about to combust from how much he was cumming. The knot at the base of his cock slowly eased down, allowing him to give a few sloppy thrusts before pulling out of you. The last few spurts of his cum splattered across your lower stomach as he heaved, the sticky substance that filled you up gushing out with each flutter of your sensitive cunt. You felt used and worn out, the feeling of his fullness still lingering even though it was just his release mixed with your juices that stuffed you now.

“You,” you said with a pant as Atsumu flopped down on you in content, “are an animal.”

“Low blow...” he mumbled, his cheeks squished out as he laid on top of your chest. It was an amazement how fast he went from feral beast to this harmless looking baby that had his face buried between the soft mounds of your breasts. His tail was now swirling happily behind him, brushing against your legs in a steady rhythm. The softness did help to coax you down, and he grumbled in satisfaction when you put your hand on the back of his head and rubbed his ears gently.

“You better clean up the mess you make later.”

“You’re ruining the atmosphere," he complained with a pout, smiling a little at the snort you made. He pressed a light peck onto the center of your chest, nuzzling his face against you before looking up at you with his jaw leaning on you.

Fine, you would have to admit that Atsumu always looked cute when he was in his post-sex clingy form with his tail curling around your leg and ears flicking at the top of his head.

“You know,” his words sounded off with how he could barely move his lips. His eyes were squinted into two thin curls on his face that was tilted to the side, pressing his ear against you to hear the steady rhythm of the pounding of your heart, “foxes mate for life...”

You wanted to tell him that you do know, because he told you that every time he was feeling mushy. When he just woke up, when you two were in the bath together, when he was in your arms like he was now, he liked to remind you every now and then that he was ready to do all that with you for the rest of his life as long as it might be, like how he seemed genuinely overjoyed when the drops of rain fell from the sky as you told him that you loved him too.

So you stayed silent, and basked in the simple bliss of knowing that the universe had sent a message and it was that you made the right decision choosing each other.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu smut #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu imagine #miya atsumu imagines #miya atsumu smut #kinktober 2020

1K notes · View notes

austarus · 3 years

Text

HR Wells x Reader - Reversal of Denouement

*A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me. It belongs to its rightful owner.

**Please don’t forget to comment, like, and reblog. It means a lot to content creators of all kinds!

***I’d also like to thank @grimtamlain-writes for being my beta reader.

Word Count: 8251

MASTERLIST

A low groan left HR's lips. His body felt numb, his chest ached - tingled as his heart beats steadily. Is it beating? The darkness of his eyelids eased the stinging coming from his mind – it wasn’t so bright. The headache formed there. His body screamed at him as the novelist made the slightest of movement. His left shoulder in particular had protested in desperate agony. He couldn’t move it very much, the area succumbed to restraints of some sort. HR’s throat felt raw as his body throbbed, the blood coursing meticulously through his blood vessels. The sound of a soft voice greeted his ears, but his eyes refused to open.

"I... you, HR... even if... see it." The voice was so familiar, so gentle. So sweet. "Should... better." A drop of water hit his numbed hand, static still prominent there from the little movement his body had done. “I wish…” The dark-haired doppelganger could only understand fragments of what the speaker was saying. He felt a pressure on his hand, tender skin holding onto his before something tickled his forehead. Feather-light. What was it? Who was it? A few moments passed and he heard nothing, the novelist only assumed that the voice’s owner had left. He didn’t want to be alone right now though, not with the darkness.

It had become unbearable.

Since... Since when did…? How...? Oh. Right. Savitar... Am I dead? Is this where spirits wait for their turn to pass into their designated afterlife? Have I really...? Events from earlier resurfaced to his mind, his senses coming together. Right, had to protect Iris. For Barry – it was my fault Savitar had gotten to her. My big mouth. Even if Barry didn't really see me as a helpful friend. At least... At least I proved Savitar wrong, who ironically is a version of Barry. That's hella twisted. He huffed out a breath before venturing back into the calmness of sleep. Maybe a little more rest will help?

***

HR cracked an eye open: this time, harsh filtered light had greeted him. The novelist grunted in pain, adjusting himself slightly to assess where he was. What day was it? What was the time? How long have I been here? A yawn left his lips this time, his throat and mouth as dry as a desert.

“Well look who finally decided to wake up?” HR’s eyes met Cisco’s, who stood with a tablet in hand. “How’s sleeping beauty feeling?”

The Wells doppelganger cleared his throat. “Like I’ve gotten assaulted by an Amtrack bus, and not the good kinds.” HR’s baby blue eyes scanned the room, landing on the flower vase that was set on a table near him. Blue forget-me-knots and pink hydrangeas stood proudly in their vases, nurtured well. HR felt his heart swell, his eyes not daring to leave the delicate petals that accented the med bay in better tones. Cisco handed him a cup of water to which HR downed it immediately.

“Amtrack does trains.”

“Not on my Earth, Francisco.” The author couldn’t help but ask, his eyes lingering on the flowers once more. “Did Tracy bring those?”

Cisco pursed his lips, an odd look present on his face. He wanted to tell HR, but… “No. Um, she didn’t.” Tracy had been visiting, though it had become some sort of a nuisance to all her complaining at this point. She hadn’t even known HR for that long, anyway.

“Oh?” His shoulders dropped subtly in disappointment. “They’re beautiful, I was just wondering and…”

“Let’s just say, a special someone’s been… dropping by and bringing a new flower each day. That’s all you’re getting from me, Aurora.” Cisco reasoned with the Wells doppelganger. The mechanical genius knew, but it wasn’t his place to say. It killed him, but… “I wouldn’t move around too much, if I were you. You’ve got a fractured shoulder and that chest wound. I’ve been told to relay the message that you’re to be on strict bed rest until that shoulder further heals.” HR lowered his gaze to see the cross-body sling. He clenched his slinged hand and unclenched it to bring some feeling into the limb.

“What about my chest?”

“Miraculously, that’s been healing really well since day one.” Cisco kept the talk real, showing the injured doppelganger the schematics and pictures. “You got lucky that it missed your heart by a centimeter.” A stab wound like that should have… I wonder if she knows that I know.

HR blinked at the seriousness in his injury, the looming idea of death from his decision. “How long was I out?”

“A week and a half.”

“What?” HR’s eyes widened in disbelief. “I-”

“HR!” Tracy’s sudden voice pierced the room, stunning Cisco and triggering an ache in HR’s head. The grad scientists shuffled over to him, both forgetting that Cisco was in the room. “HR, my love, how are you? Are you feeling okay? Is there any pain?” He continued checking his friend’s vitals and adjusting dosages to the IV and morphine administered – as per your request. The room was growing ever louder with HR and Tracy. Tracy embraced him, minding his injuries as she continued to fuss over him. It made the Wells writer smile, yet… his heart didn’t swell as much as it used to.

Odd.

Cisco sent you a quick text while the two were preoccupied, but you were already at the Labs. You stopped just outside the entrance, the wall and dimly light hallway obscuring you from who remained in the med bay. They wouldn’t be able to see you from where you stood. A shaky breath left you as you clutched the Freesia flower in hand. Your heart shriveled in your chest as you backtracked. Hearing his voice is enough. After all, with Tracy around you couldn’t be near him – those dirty and hateful looks she’d send you. Best to keep my distance, I guess. You couldn’t help but sneak a peek at him though, the man who had unknowingly captured your heart and would never reciprocate your love. You pushed down the lump in your throat. Hastily, you sent Cisco a text to check on the flowers. Silently, you trailed away from the med bay and to the upper levels of STAR Labs. I wonder if he liked the flowers. Standing at such altitude with the wind blowing lightly had calmed you a bit. Looking down at the flower, you gripped it tightly before you began to pick off the petals one by one. The little moments you had with the goofy novelist surfaced to the forefront of your mind with each petal you held. Your little curious escapades. The little talks. The nights you’d visit him when Tracy wasn’t around.

“He loves me, he loves me not,” You murmured, a stray tear trickled down your cheek. The freesia symbolizes unconditional love and honor. “He loves me, he loves me not,” Your voice cracked as more tears fell. “He loves me, he loves me not…”

***

A frown presented itself on HR’s lips as he tilted his head to crack his neck. The crack relieved him tremendously. It didn’t make sense. The novelist mused to himself, setting aside the current chapter draft he was working on. The voice I heard was… different. It didn’t sound like Tracy’s. HR couldn’t get that voice out of his mind – the tenderness that was laced in the tone of that voice. Nothing like the slight shrill in Tracy’s. He eyed the flowers once more that day, their presence was prominent. If Tracy hadn’t brought those, then who had?

The team had helped situate HR in his room in order to vacate the med bay should another imminent event occur. He had overheard Cisco tell Wally that you were preoccupied with something in Star City – a bit of disappointment twinged inside him. HR had taken up doing bits of physical therapy for the rest of his body without moving his shoulder as much. His shoulder and arm remained in a crossbody sling. The flowers sat on his bedside counter; he tended to them as best as he could with the limited movement he had. Tracy protested that they don’t need to be around, but the novelist was vehement on keeping the plants. HR won’t deny the fact that he had gotten annoyed several times with her around when he needed thinking space for his writing. He couldn’t write with noise and nonsensical chatter, especially if it’s mainly coming from someone who doesn’t want to really listen to his input. She’d go on and on about her scientific research and such, but wouldn’t hear a word from HR regarding his writing. The longer the novelist was confined to his room for rest, the more he had time to think – to contemplate. Yes, he liked Tracy, but… it just seemed that she didn’t really see HR. She does all the talking; she doesn’t really ask about how I feel about things or ask me about my life, even things about Earth-19… It’s like she doesn’t see me for anything other than a pretty face. It’s not even my face that Tracy sees, just Randolph’s. Was I too quick to jump at the first person who showed interest in me? Had I rushed into ‘forever’ with her?

He tabled those thoughts for now. HR reached for his laptop; one hand opened it to start it up. While the device loaded, he grabbed his black-clear glasses and set them on his face. If anyone saw him as such, they wouldn’t be able to tell the physical difference between him and his handsome, yet grumpy doppelganger. Except for the eyebrow scar, but that was obscured by the glasses. HR did a couple of searches with a concentrated look. Surely, it was the person with that… angel-like voice.

“Hydrangeas,” HR whispered as his eyes skimmed over the text that had popped up. “The hydrangea represents gratitude, grace and beauty. It also radiates abundance because of the lavish number of flowers and the generous round shape. Its colors symbolize love, harmony and peace.” The Wells doppelganger scrolled further. “Pink hydrangeas symbolize heartfelt emotions.” Interesting. HR continued his research, glancing at the other flower type that resting in the vase. “Forget-me-nots symbolize true love and respect. When you give someone these tiny blooms, it represents a promise that you will always remember them and will keep them in your thoughts. They are also considered a symbol of fidelity and faithfulness.” A particular link caught his eye, he clicked on it. The novelist read to himself the text once more, “Based on Christian lore, the story about forget-me-nots is that God was walking in the Garden of Eden. He saw a blue flower and asked it its name. The flower was a shy flower and whispered that he had forgotten his name. God renamed the flower as forget-me-not saying that He will not forget the flower.”

HR swallowed thickly; contrary to popular belief around here, he wasn’t stupid. Sure, he wasn’t a science-based genius, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t an expert on other aspects of life and had basic common sense. The author was emotionally intelligent and intact with the world around him. These flowers weren’t picked out on accident. But who would do that? Who doesn’t want me to forget about them? The dark-haired man shook his head slightly as he shut his laptop. A surge of sadness welled inside him at the notion of ‘being forgotten’. Who had he done that to? He’d get to the bottom of this mystery in due time. Right now, I need to jog my memory on what I was writing. A hand found a rough draft paper, his eyes scanned over the words he had typed out. His brows creased as the written notes he’d made on the paper as well. (Y/N) … I had… What had I been writing about again? The novelist read each line, each note he had made no drafts and scratch paper.

The hairs at the back of his neck stood up as realization hit him the more he had read on. The drafts, the notes, all of it – the little novel he had been writing regarding his adventures. But this particular part of his story – the ‘angel’ in his story. The one who stuck by him since coming here, the one who had given him a safe space… And the one he hadn’t seen since waking up. How could he forget? HR lowered the paper; his eyes became half-lidded as guilt shot through him. Before Barry had gone to the future and gotten hints of Tracy with her Speed Bazooka, HR had been working on his book. A book that he had pushed off to stick with Tracy and help in any way that he can to make the speed weapon possible. He had gotten distracted from doing the things he loves. A few conjectures arose in his mind as he slipped his glasses off, one arm end pressed to his lips. His heart hammered into his chest; you were among the last faces he had seen before passing out that night.

The irony. How could I forget that (Y/N) was the ‘angel’ in my story?

***

“Look at you, up and at ‘em.” Cisco strolled into the lounge with a cheeky grin. The mechanical genius didn’t take HR for granted anymore, not with the stunt he pulled. No, Cisco willingly checked up on him – not just for you, but for himself. HR had truly become one of his close friends in the end, especially with all the advice about Gypsy. “What are you cooking up this time?”

“Just an omelet with a side of bacon and toast, Francisco,” HR turned to the mechanical engineer who continued to tinker away at the schematics to get Barry out of the Speedforce. He offered Cisco some with a gesture only for the scientist to politely decline. “I haven’t seen (Y/N) anywhere. Um, is she also…?”

“Oh, you know how she’s like. Either up in the vents or chilling in her birds’ nest on the roof. And on that note, our resident hummingbird has become quite the firecracker.”

HR raised an eyebrow at his friend. “How so?”

“She punched Savitar square in the face then decked him multiple times over when Barry brought him in. Harry had to be the one to pull her away – well, more like carry her away kicking and screaming bloody murder at him. It sounded badass; wish I had been there to see it.”

The Wells doppelganger gritted his teeth at the mental image of Harry carrying you – touching you. The thought ruffled his feathers for some reason. HR expertly masked his irritation, turning the stove off and assembling the food on his plate. “Why?”

“Because he hurt you, HR.”

“…”

“He almost killed you.” And that was unforgivable, especially to her. “We almost lost you. She almost lost you.”

A rough sigh escaped HR as Cisco had sent him a knowing look before exiting the STAR Labs lounge. The Earth-19 man chewed on the inside of his cheek. Only a fool would misunderstand Cisco’s subtle intentions. HR knew what he had to do – he’d been reflecting on his time here, thinking about the people around him, about the relationships he’s formed. The novelist glanced outside – the sun shined, the birds chirped, and the trees rustled with the wind.

And the world continues to move on.

***

“When are you going to tell him?”

“…” You tensed at the abrupt voice. You snapped your head up, eyes darting to find Cisco approaching you with pocketed hands in his gray-black jacket. He wore a Bulbasaur shirt. The clouds surged by with the intensity of the breeze. Your hair blew over your shoulders slightly. Tilting your head, you turned back to watch the city. Days had passed and you refused to see HR, content on what Cisco had been telling you. He’d been recovering tremendously well, but… you didn’t really want to hear about what he and Tracy were up to. It wounded you. “Tell who, what?”

“You know exactly who I’m talking about, Ms. I’m-going-to-put-my-feelings-in-a-box.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ohohohoho, no. I am tired of the love eyes, the lingering gazes, the pining. It ends.” Your best friend came to sit down next to you with that frustrated look on his face. “I know you have powers.” Your heart stopped in your chest at his accusation. “I know you used your powers to heal HR.” You bit down on your lip, not wanting to validate his statement. Cisco saw “I analyzed the wounds, looked at his healing at a microscopic level. I’m not Caitlin, but even I can pick up a few things. His cells were excelled to heal, but there were residues of your genetic markers at the wound point. You stitched his wounds together, cell-by-cell. My point is: why didn’t you say anything? Your powers are a-”

“-A curse.”

“What?”

“They’re a curse.” You threw a hard look at Cisco, making sure your hands wouldn’t touch him. “I can’t be playing God, Cisco. And… it’s unpredictable, volatile. I could either heal the life in my hands or take it away. I could rip someone ‘cell-by-cell’, Cisco. There’s no ‘in between’, not this time. He got lucky with my powers. He got lucky I didn’t make things 100% irreversible.”

“But why didn’t you say anything?” Cisco eyed the gloves you wore; it wasn’t the season for leather gloves.

“Because I didn’t want to give anyone false hope.”

“You don’t want to give yourself false hope, you mean.”

“…I can’t even heal a plant, Cisco. No matter how hard I tried, it wilted further. It’s a curse.”

“That’s not guaranteed every time, you know. It takes practice – discipline to get your powers to work with you instead of for you.” He nudged your shoulder with his, turning his gaze to the flock of birds drifting through the wind. “You know, he broke up with Tracy.”

“Ok?”

“Happened a week ago. She didn’t take it well and let me tell you. Tracy Brand was livid – the rage and yelling were off the charts. I think she has Harry beat. I knew it wasn’t going to last anyway, it was too superficial to begin with.”

“Uh huh.” You tried to sound uninterested, but deep down you were relieved. You heard a little ring in your ear. You wondered…

“She’s gone, won’t be coming here anymore.

“Ok.”

“So, go make your move.”

You turned abruptly to face him. “Cisco, have you thought that maybe HR doesn’t want to dive into a relationship right away? That… maybe he needs space to focus on himself?” All were things you had contemplated for yourself before.

“And what better way to do that than with a new roommate.”

“Excuse me?”

“Surprise, you’re getting a temporary roommate while we fully fix up things around the labs. I volunteered you since you have the space and the patience to deal with HR.” Your blood froze in your veins.

“Francisco Ramon, I am going to-”

“-Thank me, you’re going to thank me.” He had already breached away before you had the chance to strangle him. Heat rushed to your cheeks at the idea of HR living with you, even if it was a temporary living arrangement. You scolded your heart for beating loudly in your chest. One hand gripped tightly to your other. An audible sigh escaped you as your mind played with the idea.

Shit, what am I going to do?

***Day 1***

Cisco blew out an exhausted breath, setting down another box on top of a box in the guest room. You and the mechanical genius had been breaching back and forth with HR’s things as said novelist was crippled. His arm would take about another four weeks to heal. About 20 percent of shoulder fractures are displaced and may require some type of manipulation to restore normal anatomy. Occasionally the rotator cuff muscles are injured or torn at the same time as the fracture. Fortunately for HR, his rotator cuff muscles weren’t as damaged. This can further complicate the treatment. Therefore, in that time, HR would just be handling the lighter stuff, bless his heart. The novelist entered the room with his black backpack slung over his functioning shoulder – it was the last thing that he could carry.

“I think there’s one more box left,” HR pointed with his thumb towards his back direction, the breach closing behind him.

“I’ll go get it, not a problem. Why don’t you two get started on unpacking, huh?” HR shrugged with one shoulder and stepped away to set his bag down by the bed. Cisco threw a cheeky look your way when HR had his back turned, his eyebrows wiggling. ‘Have fun love birds,’ the scientist had mouthed at you. You flicked him off with a deadpanned look. Instantly you dropped it when the Wells doppelganger turned as Cisco snickered before he breached away. He gave you a confused look, but you waved it off.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For allowing me to stay obviously. And for all the help since I’m, well, a bit tangled up at the moment.”

He was referring to the cross-body sling that clung onto him like a spider. HR rubbed the back of his neck, and you didn’t miss the way his bicep flexed at the motion in that gray short-sleeve shirt. Calm the fuck down, it’s just a toned muscle. You’ve seen things like that before. The puppy-like smile HR sent you had your cheeks warming up. The gentle smile that made your heart melt all over again. You cleared your throat as you reached for a box. “It’s no big deal, HR.” Undoing the tape seal with scissors, you opened the box- and the first thing you see are a pair of handcuffs accompanied by a silky black blindfold.

“What’s in the box?”

A little noise left you as you shut the flaps of the box, trying to seal it again. The flaps remained downward in the box. “Nope, nothing. Just some clothes here. I’m going to get that one box from the living room.” You had backtracked right into the door, your nose throbbed in response at the collision. “Ow,” you muttered to yourself, rubbing the skin.

“You ok?”

“I’m fine,” your response was quick, but not rude. A deep chuckle made its way to your ears as you scrambled out the room, your heart hammering in your chest. Your thoughts scolded you for being so awkward and flustered around him. Be cool, just chill out… The man you’re hopelessly in love with is just living with you temporarily, it’s not like anything will amount from this. You picked up the last box in the living room, hoping that just clothes would be in here and not anymore kink toys. I mean… I have toys, too. AW SHIT, I HAVE TO HIDE THEM!

HR’s eyes never left you as you made your panicked exit. He let out a little breath before shuffling over to the box you had been attending to. Immediately, he face-palmed hard when he had opened it with one hand. His face felt impossibly hot at what you had seen. She must think I’m an idiot or something. His mind thought back to when you helped him shop for some new clothes then it had gotten ruined from a meta. His hand fell away from his face, the image of your kind grin imprinted in his mind. I am an idiot, though. A fool.

Once Cisco returned, you three continued unpacking HR’s things for the time he’d spend here. The labs were still in ‘piss-poor’ shape according to Cisco and that he’ll need to consult with Harry and Wally regarding repairs.

“HR, how are you showering?”

“Um, like a normal person?” A dumbfounded look crossed HR’s features as he set the plate of sandwiches down. The novelist had knitted his eyebrows at Cisco. He had taken up to experimenting in the kitchen when he wasn’t writing. The tea and coffee were still brewing in your kitchen.

“No, I mean with how your shoulder is injured,” Cisco snuck an evil look at you, you returned it with a glare, “must be hard handling it alone.” You knew exactly where this dumbass wanted to take this conversation, so you stayed silent as to not get caught in the crossfire.

HR thought to himself for a moment. “Just a bit, but I’ve gotten used to the mild discomforts and pain. I can mostly reach everything thanks to my long limbs. But I think the nice thing is that it’s an internal issue, not an external one. An external injury or wound would require me to really have help with showering that way the area doesn’t get infected or irritated with the contents of soaps.” A laugh fell from his lips, but his mind wondered what his friend was playing at while you were around.

“I’m just saying, if you ever need a hand well,” Cisco trailed off with a smirk, chomping on his third sandwich.

Oh, I see. Devious, but a futile effort. “I’ll make sure you’re the first one I ask for help,” HR teased with a smirk of his own for Cisco to drop his in disgust. A cough escaped you, which had HR’s eyes land on you. Your eyes met for a moment before you deviated your gaze. HR felt hypnotized for a moment. Hm… The engineer quickly recovered from HR’s snide remark.

“Alright kids, I’ll be going now. The labs require some diligent work that I, a capable and distinguished engineer, could only do.”

“Yet, we still have the occasional security issues,” You sipped your tea once the snarky comment was out. HR stifled a chuckle, but you heard it. The corners of your mouth lifted slightly at the notion.

“Hey, that’s not fair. They always come up with something new to invade our space by.” Cisco pointed a finger at you, mocking a hurtful expression on his face. It dropped into a sneaky smile. “Make good choices and always use protection, you two!” He breached away before you could throw your cup at him.

***Multiple Days Pass***

Through his time here, you noticed HR fueled to write what’s on his mind in the guest room. You could only assume that he continued his adventure story. Sometimes he would venture out for some coffee or take a walk to give his creativity a break. Keeping that in mind, you gave HR the space he needed as well as all noises to a minimum. You knew he liked the quiet atmosphere to pour his heart and soul into words as he did research for a scene. Pulling your jacket on, you compiled a list of groceries before you stepped out of your apartment. Locking the door, you headed out to the store picking up a few necessities as well as some snacks for HR. Like Harry, the novelist can easily lose himself in his task – which meant that he tended to forget about eating and such. You found a bag of Jitters coffee beans, adding it to your cart of items. Buying some snacks and fruit, you’d leave a note in the kitchen of the snacks when he emerged from his writing cave.

On the way back, you stopped by at Iris’ studio to check up on her. A few groceries for her as well were in hand. Cecile and you did your best to visit Iris. But you can’t deny that you blamed her to a certain extent. Had she spoken up once she had left Savitar’s place disguised as HR, HR wouldn’t have been hurt that night on Infantino Street. Surely, she could have contacted her father or Cisco or something. The transition could have been smoother. HR wouldn’t have been… The journalist was faring; she pushed through the pain and as Barry had told her ‘to keep living’. So, Iris did. She hadn’t been herself since Barry went into the Speedforce – she pushed too much, the smile wouldn’t reach her eyes sometimes. You sympathized; she lost the love of her life. But you almost had too.

“How are you?”

“I’m fine, just… taking it one day at a time.” You nodded at her response, a small smile on your face. “How are things with you and HR? I heard of the temporary living conditions.”

“It’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m in my bubble and he’s in his doing his writing.”

“Right. Nothing going on whatsoever?”

“Iris.”

Iris set her cup of hot chocolate down and raised both hands in mock defeat. “We all saw it. We all see it.”

“See what?”

“How smitten you are for him.”

“I’m not-”

“-Don’t say you’re not. If you weren’t you, Harry wouldn’t have to pry you off Savitar before you clawed his eyes out.”

“…” You just looked into your tea, the honey that settled at the bottom. Iris placed a sympathetic hand on your shoulder, but you didn’t look at her.

“The heart will want what it wants, (Y/N). Pushing your feelings into a box and denying it out loud won’t change things.”

“I know.”

And my heart wants him, over and over again. Even if he can’t see me.

***

HR tapped his pencil against the desk at a steady pace. His mind wouldn’t focus on the words in front of him, on the scene he wanted to set. Instead, it kept drifting further from it. Further towards you: your eyes, your smile, the kindness that you held; the serenity that your existence held as the world continued to turn and chaos had unfolded at each turn. HR didn’t see much of you while he was here, the novelist missed your company. You were here, but you weren’t really here. You were either in your room or at the balcony with a book or on the couch with your Switch. He didn’t want to bother you, but… sometimes HR just wanted to sit beside you and pull you close to talk. To hold you in his arms and ask you about your day, to understand what you were thinking. HR cracked his back in a stretch from where he sat on his bed, being mindful of his injured shoulder. It didn’t hurt as it had originally done a few weeks back. The Wells doppelganger noticed that you were careful to avoid touching him or him touching you. Not even a hug that you used to graciously give him. You were especially guarded with your hands. A rough sigh left him as he threw his pencil down. The frustration was setting in, he was getting nowhere. You consumed his thoughts. HR wondered if you were revolted by him but doesn’t verbalize his thoughts to you. He didn’t think you’d give him your truthful answer. Maybe she is revolted by me. She did find the cuffs and the blindfold… No, she knew about the cuff stage thing well before that.

The sound of the front door greeted his ears followed by the soft tune of music. A frown made its way onto his face. Might as well take a break. HR stretched once more when he fully stood up, a little noise of relief left his lips. He cracked his back once more before smelling himself. For safe measure, the novelist sprayed a bit of cologne on himself and turned off the candle he had on. He mentally noted to take a shower after dinner since his last was yesterday. He liked the feeling of being clean, to be honest. HR carded a hand through his hair. I need a haircut soon, too. Yeesh, I feel like I’m letting myself go. Once I’m all healed it’s back to proper cuts and the labs’ recreation room. He wanted to go back to lifting weights and doing yoga for body stability purposes – especially now because of his shoulder. HR rested a hand on his chest, the wound had healed completely, but a scar remained. Upon entering the kitchen, he saw the groceries on the table and heard you whisper along with the lyrics. The music was set to a low level that your whispers were audible enough. He watched you sway a bit with the tune.

So please don't break my heart

Don't tear me apart

I know how it starts

Trust me I've been broken before

Don't break me again

I am delicate

Please don't break my heart

Trust me I've been broken before

The guitar tune pulled at his heart, feeling the raw emotion behind the lyrics. He eyed you for a moment. HR cleared his throat to make his presence known, he knew you didn’t like to be snuck up on. However, a little gasp left you from where you were. “You went out shopping?”

You looked up from where you crouched to put away the cereal. “Uh yeah, we were running low on some stuff.” You shut the cabinet and went to the other items you had bought. The music continued to delicately play.

“Need any help?”

“Um, sure. Uh, just set these into the cabinet on the left.” Normal, be normal. He’s not going to eat you or anything. Distance is good. Distance keeps you safe. You didn’t meet his eyes, the eyes that’d pull you in and never let you out – your heart shook with him here and the song that played. You were hoping HR wouldn’t come out while you prepped dinner to have a sort of peace of mind. The next song played before you could stop it-

My last made me feel like I would never try again

But when I saw you, I felt something I never felt

Come closer, I'll give you all my love

If you treat me right, baby, I'll give you everything

“I like this song,” HR started as he was finishing up with putting his side of the groceries away. Another guitar-like song that brought out the soft feelings of love and rejection. HR mused to himself if fate had planned this out. If this was some sort of sign or a cruel joke… You had stopped yourself from clicking the button to skip the song at his comment. You don’t know what possessed you to let him indulge in another song that you’ve cried to late at night. “Hey, I can cook dinner tonight. I have something I’ve been wanting to try. I’m not that crippled so I can manage with a few cookware.” HR chuckled to himself, a goofy grin on his face. Your heart leapt in your chest; his grin caused a small smile to pull at your lips. “You can wash up first?”

You swallowed thickly, your eyes meeting his icy blues. You felt your cheeks warm up slightly as the nerves crawled up your spine. “Oh, ok. Cool, yeah. Can’t wait to see what you cook up.” You nodded, ducking your head away and shuffling out of the kitchen with that shy smile on your face. You missed the longing look he had sent you as you fastened your steps to head to your room.

God I love that smile. What goes on in that little head of yours? We used to be so close… before Tracy came into the picture. HR pulled out the spices and the chicken breast. He shook his head and proceeded to prep the food with his one useful hand. I need to consult Francisco.

***

“We need to talk,” HR’s voice broke the silence in the side lab of the Cortex. He had breached to the labs using the Breach Extrapolator after he had showered and such. His damp hair was pushed back in HR’s normal style.

“About what?” Cisco raised a concerned eyebrow at the writer, stopping what he had been doing.

“(Y/N).”

A nervous laugh left Cisco as he went back to attempting to make the necessary modifications to the Speed Bazooka. Tracy was reluctant to help the mechanical engineer after the breakup. “What about (Y/N)?” Cisco put down his screwdriver. “Did you do something weird to her?”

“What? No! I- we used to be closer. We always talked, we’d hang out after a long day here at the labs.”

“Uh huh.”

“And, maybe it’s just me, but things have changed.”

“How so?” Cisco was wondering what conclusion HR was leading himself to.

“Things changed when Tracy came into the picture.”

Cisco made a little ‘o’ with his mouth with a little nod before closing it. He pushed a rough sigh past his lips, he was getting really tired of this puppy love game. “Why do you think that?”

“Francisco, she flinches when I get close – almost when I touch her… Does she hate me?”

“I think you and I know the answer to that one. But I think the real question should be: Why do you care so much? Why does it bother you? Do you love her, HR?”

The novelist tensed a bit. “…” HR pursed his lips as Cisco walked around the table that the speed weapon was mounted on. Blueprints were scattered on one table while the glass board held variables and equations he could not decipher. “What?”

“I said what I said,” the mechanical genius smoothly responded. One look at HR and Cisco knew that he was baffled by his forward words. But they needed to be said. “Now run along and use that head of yours to think about what your heart wants. Barry isn’t going to get himself out of the Speedforce.”

***

Cisco’s words mulled through HR’s mind as he breached back to your apartment’s living room. Only the lamp light on the side table was on. HR’s eyes landed on you, who laid on the couch with the book you had been reading on the back ledge of the couch. The novelist took off his shoes and set down his bag. He had detoured to the bookstore, looking for the next installment of your current book. The Wells doppelganger had assumed you didn’t buy it yet as it was vacant from your bookshelf. The gentle giant stepped silently closer to you; the dim light cast over you like a glow. There were slight bags under your eyes. She hasn’t been sleeping well lately. Spotting a large and fluffy blanket near, HR grabs it and lays it on top of you. He remembered you mentioned to him prior that you easily get cold, especially at night. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, HR contemplated something before his body moved impulsively. The novelist placed a gentle kiss on your forehead; his lips lingered for a few more seconds. Pulling back, HR watched your chest rise and fall. He turned the light off and stumbled over to his room with his phone light guiding him. He knew what he was going to write. Cisco’s question pestered him enough though.

Do you love her, HR?

HR took one look out his door before shutting it, his heart squeezed tightly in his chest as he whispered, “Goodnight, my angel.” Only the shadows that lingered were a witness to the fondness laced in those simple words.

***

You woke up with a start, you hand instantly smacking right into your chest. Heavy breaths left you as your nerves were in overdrive. Cold sweat beaded your skin as you gasp for air. It was another night terror – the same one for a few weeks now; a new way in which you caused HR’s death. Swallowing thickly, you screw your eyes tightly shut and whisper the mantra that calmed you down. After a few minutes, you started to regain control of your breathing – the thoughts that ravaged your mind finally ceased like the tides subsiding after a tsunami. You blinked languidly, hating nights like these. They weren’t rare, but they weren’t an uncommon occurrence. Deciding that you needed to step out for some air, you did so with the intent of getting a glass of water from the kitchen. Your fingers found the lights for the dimmers in your room, setting it to its lowest setting for you to see yourself out.

Cracking the door open, you were instantly met with the scene of HR passed out on the couch again. He’s been doing that for around two weeks now, the couch his new base of operations. His mouth was slightly open as little snores escaped him. A lovestruck smile crossed your features at the sight. Papers were littered around him, on the ground, and on the tables. Must be the manuscript he’s working on for his final draft. I hope I can read it at some point. Coming back from the kitchen with the water in hand you couldn’t help but stop to admire the sight. You noticed the glasses still perched on his face. Moving as silent as a ninja, you inched closer to pull off the glasses from his face. They’ll break if he keeps them on while he sleeps. Then he won’t see for shit when reading things. You nibbled on your bottom lip as your eyes drifted to the papers. One peek won’t hurt anyone. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Seating yourself on the ground, you leaned your back against the foundation of the couch. You were opposite to where HR’s upper body was. If there were any telltale signs of him waking, you’d hightail out before he could fully wake up and process what you were doing. Picking up a small stack, you started sifting through them. Your mind became engrossed with the words – the beginnings of the story he had spun about his adventures as to how he came to Earth-1. Then… mentions of an angel eluded you. It couldn’t be Tracy, could it? I know they broke up, but… on the other hand, it doesn’t mean that he can’t say that she was his angel at the time. Like a character development thing leading to their break up?? Well fuck, I don’t even think he’d mention such a personal thing in his book. I know I wouldn’t… would I? I don’t know. A little smile danced at your lips while you read on about the synonymous things regarding Team Flash that you failed to notice HR rouse from sleep.

“Do you like it?” Lethargy intertwined his words. A stunned noise left you as you clutched the papers. You turned to see HR rubbing his eyes before gazing at you.

I could get lost in those eyes if I stared too long.

“Uh, yeah, its- it’s really good,” you stuttered, setting the papers down in your lap. Embarrassment of getting caught gripped you. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind you taking a peek. I don’t have anything to be ashamed of in it.” HR shifted his lithe body to sit next to you on the ground.

“Oh.”

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“No.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“It’s not that important, I’ll be ok.”

“If you say so,” HR’s shoulders sagged slightly. “I’m here if you want to talk.” You nodded at him, whispering a little thank you. HR ran a hand over his knee, he took a glimpse at you who stared at the papers. He noticed what chapter you hand been reading – the angel was making an appearance in the story. The hair at the back of his neck stood while you thumbed the words on the paper back in forth, just lost in your mind. Your hair was messy from sleep, the bags under your eyes were still there. It killed him how you wouldn’t confide in him anymore. But he didn’t push you. You would open up to him if you wanted to or not, even if he wanted you to do so as so his mind can be at ease with knowing what’s going on with you. Cisco’s question sprang up in his mind once more before he licked his lips, his eyes watching you. “I do.”

You gave HR a strange look. I do, what?

“Tracy wasn’t her.” Realization struck HR the more you whispered with him.

“Huh??”

“I heard this voice before I woke up.” The novelist fully turned to you with intense eyes, the enlightenment in them – the fire that burned brightly. “The tenderness in it could rival any tasteful delight in the multiverse.”

“A voice?”

“Mm, it made me think that only a heavenly deity would have such a voice.” You remained silent as he spoke. “I never got to hear that voice since my coma… until now?”

You tensed at what he was insinuating. “Now?”

“How could I forget?”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“How could I forget about you?” The baritone huskiness in his voice made you melt with the way he said those words. You swallowed, trying to calm the butterflies that raged in the pit of your stomach. “The flowers that were left – beautiful, delicate, yet meaningful. You left those after visiting me.”

“…”

She didn’t deny it. “But you never visited when I was awake because of Tracy.”

“She hates me.”

“And I was too blind to see that until I broke up with her, she threw quite a fit.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because you must have loved her so much that it would be hard to let go.” She was your angel, after all.

“She didn’t even know me. Truly know me.”

“… Did she hurt you?”

“Slightly, but the bruise is gone.” You and he were silent for a moment. Only the sound of a distant car horn was heard from the streets. “You didn’t deny it.”

“Deny what?”

“The flowers, the visit…” HR licked his lips as a rough breath left him. His nerves were climbing, but he needed to do this. “Cisco told me what you did to Savitar when you saw him. How angry you were that Harry had to pry you off him – I was so angry.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t know then… but I know now.”

“And?”

“Tracy was never the one written in my story – she didn’t care. She didn’t see me for anything other than a pretty face obsessed with coffee. You did.” HR tucked your hair behind your ear, carefully gauging your reaction. He saw how you tried not to flinch away from him. “Do you hate me?” He asked as he retracted a hand from you, happy that he was at least getting through to you.

“Never could I feel such a way towards you.” You hesitated for a moment before testing the waters. You started to explain, “I- the night you were stabbed by Savitar I… I just broke. I pushed Tracy away, I had Barry rush you back to the labs. You were dying, unconscious on the gurney and… I got to work trying to resuscitate you. I had Cisco take care of Tracy while I worked, I needed space to think clearly, but I couldn’t. When- when the others were preoccupied with Iris’ appearance, I used these powers.” It was now or never. “I was desperate. Your life was hanging by a thread- I didn’t think it was going to work, but nothing else was working. You were bleeding so much. But I had to try. I…” Your glassy eyes locked back on his, your hands pulled close to your body. HR understood now why you never tried touching him. Why you are avoiding getting too close. “Cisco found out, he confronted me. But these powers, life isn’t guaranteed. They’re volatile, unprecedented – regardless of how I feel in the moment the balance can tip between giving a life and taking one.” There was a tightness in your chest as your voice cracked, “I’m cursed, I could hurt you.” I’m dangerous.

“I don’t think you will.”

“You don’t know that!”

“But I do,” HR reached a hand out to hold yours. Tension filled your heart as panic started to settle. “You wouldn’t let yourself hurt me. It would pain you too much.” HR squeezed your slightly shaky hand, his other hand still bound by the cross-sling. “My life is in your hands.”

“How can you trust me so much?”

“Because love cannot be built without a foundation of trust.” He placed a sweet kiss on the knuckles of your hand. “And understanding.” He took the other and kissed it, baby blue eyes shifted back to yours with such intense emotion. The adoration that filled the author to the brim for you. Just for you. Only you. The one who saw him for everything and anything that he is. His safe space – the one other thing he wanted to be for you as well. He wanted to eliminate any fears that resided in your heart, the pain and doubt that remained.

“Do you hate me?”

HR cupped your cheek tenderly as he leaned close, your heart wanted to stop as blood rushed to your cheeks and ears. Your half-lidded eyes shut slowly as his lips skimmed over your own. “Never in my life, angel,” the novelist whispered as he captured your lips in a tender and sentimental kiss.

Never in my life could I hate the one who my heart has yearned for.

#harrison wells x reader #harrison wells #hr wells x reader #hr wells #hr wells imagine #the flash cw #the flash #harrison wells imagines #earth 19 harrison wells #cw #cisco ramon #tracy brand #iris west #Iris West-Allen

119 notes · View notes

backtothefanfiction · 3 years

Text

WHAT BENNY DOESN’T KNOW| Chapter One

A TRIPLE FRONTIER STORY

Summary: After your mission starts going tits up and you find yourself being held at gun point, your groups big secret is about to come to light.

Warnings: Mature 18+ ONLY!! Guns, Violence, Hostage Situation, Shooting, Murder, Sexual References, Some Angst. (This Chapter is purely set up but there will be plenty of Smut in future instalments, not to mention drama galore, especially where Frankie is involved.)

Word Count - 3429

A/N- Hi all, I hope you enjoy my little self indulgent piece I’ve been working on. This is a female reader insert so I do use she/her pronouns, I hope this doesn’t bother anyone or make them feel uncomfortable, I just always vision myself as my insert character and I just end up writing with my own pronouns. Although I have re-read this a couple times, I did write this and proof read in the early hours of the morning so there may still be mistakes, if you find any I’m sorry. Also I cannot wait for you all to see where I’m taking this and the drama that is gonna go down. Will Benny find out everything in the end? Let’s find out.

CHAPTER ONE | WHAT BENNY DOESN’T KNOW

Your feet danced silently across the sun spot covered floor boards as you made your way down the upstairs hallway of the house. You stayed close to the walls, your gun held tightly to your vest, finger always close to the trigger. You sensed a figure move across the hall behind you. You looked back over your shoulder as the brim of a cap stuck out from the corner of a door frame. You and Frankie locked eyes and he gave you a silent nod to let you know he had your back. You took your next tentative step forward towards the last room at the end of the hall. Creeeek.

You froze, your foot half in the air as you waited to see if your target had noticed. You heard a slight click from behind you as Frankie adjusted his gun ready just in case. You slowly moved your foot, placing it down on the floorboard next to the one that just creaked, so you had a better stance. The room at the end of the hall remained silent. You looked back to Frankie and he gave you a reassuring nod once again.

“We're all clear down here and we found the money.” Pope's voice came through the coms. “Fish? Magpie? How's it going up there.” There was a noise on the stairs causing both yourself and Frankie's head's to whip around to see Will. Frankie held up a fist to him. Will gave a silent nod as he readjusted his hand on his gun.

Frankie's response was hushed. “Give us a sec.”

You took your last few steps down the hall to position yourself across from the slightly open door. Frankie swiftly moved down the hall, stopping with his back against the wall, the barrel of his gun, ghosting the door frame. He signalled his hand indicating for you to take focus on the left side of the room, he'd take the right. You gave a nod to show you understood taking a quick look down the hall to check Will had your six. When you looked back to Frankie he was taking a slow calming breath, focusing himself. He gave one final nod and you both stormed through the door.

Just like every other room you'd checked, it was clear. You both relaxed, calling it out as Will came into the doorway. “There's nothing up here Pope.” you said into your com.

“What do you mean there's nothing up there?” Santiago Garcia's voice was frustrated as it came through the com.

“What you don't trust me? There's nothing fucking up here.” You said again as Frankie and Will did a double check of the other rooms.

“I'm coming up there.” You rolled your eyes. You and Santi had both gone into similar lines of work post service and you couldn't be mad at him for not trusting your judgement, you would probably do the same had the roles been reversed.

“Jesus Fucking Chr-” you started to mutter to yourself but a sound behind you caught you off guard. Shit.

“Put down your gun.” came a voice behind you. Of course this house had a secret fucking room you missed. You made a loud example of dropping your gun on the floor, alerting your team mates to the threat in the room with you.

Frankie stormed back into the room first, gun aimed at the ready. You sneered as the barrel of a gun was jammed into your back and your wrist was grabbed, your arm being forced behind you. “Fish what's going-” Will's voice fell as he too came back into the room, Frankie holding a hand up to him in caution.

“How many of you are there?” the man behind you spoke, his accent thick.

“We've got two more guys downstairs.” Frankie's voice came back calm.

“Iron head what's going on?” Pope's voice came booming down the hallway. Will held a hand up to him.

“All of you in here where I can see you.” The man said. You grunted as he twisted your arm again, leading you backwards so he was in a better vantage spot in the room. Frankie never lowered his gun as he stepped around the room to maintain his shot at the man behind you.

Will and Santiago slowly stepped into the room, both their weapons aimed ready. Santiago, not wanting to risk reaching for his com instead yelled out. “HEY BENNY, COME UP HERE!”

Everyone was silent as the sound of heavy footsteps made their way upstairs and down the hall. “What's everyone doing up here-” his question was cut off as he quickly surveyed the situation in the room. He quickly berated himself for leaving his gun downstairs but calmly checked himself, spotting your gun on the floor and forming a plan in his head about how he'd acquire it.

“All of you put your weapons down.” The man's heavy accent cut through the silence. When none of the men before him moved he raised the gun in his hand to rest against the side of your head. “I said, put your weapons down or I'll shoot her.” None of the men moved.

“Boy's it's alright, you can put your guns down. He's not gonna shoot me.” You said, your voice too light hearted for this situation.

“Yes I will.” the man bit back pushing the gun harder against your head.

You calmly turned your head to look at him. “No you won't, and you know how I know that?” You raised your eyebrows at him. “Because you need me to get out of here. You know the moment you do any actual harm to me, these men won't hesitate making your body drop, right where you stand. You're goal here, is to get yourself out alive, so you need me alive. So in conclusion, no, you're not going to shoot me.” You roll your eyes turning your attention back to your boys. “Boy's it's fine. I'm fine, just drop your weapons.”

Benny gave a quick glance to his right, at his brothers. Both Santiago and Will reluctantly followed your instruction, making a show of calmly lowering their weapons and placing them on the floor. The only one of them who didn't move was Frankie. You locked eyes with him. You saw all his emotions and care for you in his eyes, his determination to keep you safe as he fought with every fibre of his being to not lower his weapon, to just shoot this guy right where he stood. You're eye's pleaded with him softly. “Fish, it's okay.” It took a moment, but he too followed suit, slowly lowering his weapon.

“What's gonna happen is we are going to slowly head for the door.” The man pointing the gun at you said calmly. “You're friends are gonna stay right where they are.”

“Okay.” you said back calmly. This wasn't your first hostage negotiation but then again, you'd never been the hostage before.

“Okay.” he reiterated as he pulled your arm and slowly edged you towards the door. You watched the boys closely. You could see in Santi's eyes he was desperate to say something. You kept your glance on him a moment longer and his mouth began to open, your voice came out first.

“Do you remember that time in Italy?” you addressed him calmly as your feet still moved backwards towards the door.

“Yeah...” Santiago said tentatively, the man behind you jostling your arm as he began to step into the doorway.

You felt the man lower the gun from your head to your back, pushing it against your left side, a caution to be quiet which you ignored. “With that guy at that club.” You continued, your eyes locked with Santiago trying to get him to understand. “And you tried to impress me when you shot him, but I just got mad...” You too were now stood in the doorway. You stopped. “well.” None of the men had ever seen you move that fast. You reached your arm to the gun poking at your side, taking it from the man's hand. Before he'd even realised you'd taken it your whole body swivelled around as you twisted the gun around in your hands, raising it and shooting him point blank in his forehead. His body hit the ground with a thud. Your eyes didn't leave the man as you fully took a moment to take him in as you lowered the weapon in your hands.

There was a giddy squeal and the sound of Benny bouncing around excitedly behind you. You turned around stepping forward to hand the gun off to Santiago, finishing the statement you were making before. “Consider us even.” you said, raising your eyebrows to him.

“Oh my god! Did you see that?” Benny continued to bounce around the room. Will and Frankie only just taking a sigh of relief as you moved back towards the body now lying in the doorway. Benny finally came to a stop. “Is anyone else slightly turned on right now?” his filter not stopping the question, quickly permeating the room with it. There was silence from the other three men as you bent down to rummage through the dead sicario’s pockets. The radio silence to Benny's question was deafening to you. You slowly sheepishly turned your head towards the other three men who were still yet to say anything. You're head turn hadn't been slow enough though and you caught the look that Santiago, Frankie and Will quickly shared, before looking at any opposing point of the room they could.

“Well I guess I know what you boys don't talk about when you're out with Benny.” your statement cut through the thick silence. You took a quick look at Benny just long enough to see his face fall. You stifled a small snigger as you turned back to the body in front of you.

“What?” Benny's voice rang out. “What is it you don't talk about when you're with me? What did I miss?” the youngest man searched his brother's faces for answers. They continued to remain silent.

You pulled yourself away from the body, blowing straight past Benny to Santiago. “Does Will know about Italy?” Santiago remains silent but a quick look over to Will and how he's looking at you tells you everything you need to know. “So he does know about Italy.” you say coyly, your gaze turning back to Santiago.

Benny is beginning to get antsy, moving about the room. “What happened in Italy?” Nobody answers Benny and you continue your playful interrogation.

“How much does he know?”

“All of it.” Santiago responds. You look to Fish then back at Santi.

“Even...?” You can see Will's eyes fixed uncomfortably to a spot on the floor out of the corner of your own. Frankie beside him started to relax, his own legs becoming fidgety as he began to rock on the balls of his feet, the conversation making him uncomfortable.

“All of it.” Santiago says again. You suddenly notice Frankie become tense once more. It takes a moment for your brain to process why, but then it's fitting it together. The creaky floorboard in the hallway. You reached out for the gun in Santiago's hand quickly whipping around just in time. BANG. Another body hits the floor in the doorway.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” Benny practically squeals again. You turn your head back to Santiago, he has that look in his eyes. The same look he gave you that night in Italy. A warmth suddenly hits between your legs and you have to take a deep breath and centre yourself.

“I thought you said downstairs was all clear.” You say handing the gun over to him again.

“It was.” Santiago's voice was low as he tried to retake control of this situation, but the two of you both knew it was long gone. It had been gone the moment you mentioned Italy.

You took a step back, Benny still hopping about giddily. “Seriously did nobody tell him.” Your eyes roamed over to Frankie's. They locked for a fraction of a second before he purposely turned his gaze away from you. He still slightly resented you for the whole Italy incident. Your eyes finally fell on Will who was now silently looking at you, well aware you were the one fully in command from here on out. 'Wow' you silently mouthed.

“What the fuck am I missing out on?” Benny butted in again, his voice whining like a child.

“We'll tell you when your older.” his older brother finally said, not taking his eyes off you for a second.

---------

Your fingers were swollen red and sore as you carried yet another heavy bag of cash to the van. You quickly dropped it onto the large pile Frankie was loading into the back of the van parked outside the front of the house with a thud. You took a moment to regain your strength ready to go back for the last few bags, watching as the veins in Frankie's muscles strained as he lifted multiple bags at a time, swinging them into the van. You watched as he stopped a moment, realising you were still stood there, a hesitant look on his face, like he wanted to say something but didn't know if now was the right time to say it. You watched as the emotion inside him quickly built from whatever inner conflict he was having. He practically threw the next bag into the van.

You took a tentative step towards the pile of bags, picking one up and lifting it into the back of the van. “Don't do that again.” you heard the man beside you growl.

“Do what? All I did was put a bag in the van-” “Don't gamble with your life like that.” Frankie snapped at you.

“He wasn't going to shoot me.” you tried to keep your voice calm as you reached for another bag, but the slight irritation in how Frankie was treating you was clearly niggling at you.

“You didn't know that.” He said stopping everything he was doing to stare at you.

“Yes I did.” you snapped as you threw the bag in your hand, into the back of the van. You felt him grab your arm, pulling you round to face him. His hand remaining firmly around your wrist. You felt like your skin was burning under his touch.

“No. You took a gamble and began running your fucking mouth off, you were practically taunting him the whole fucking time-”

“He had the safety on.” You spat back at him, cutting off his rant. He looked at you half in shock, half in curiosity.

“What?”

“He had the safety on the whole time.” you said your voice softening trying to make him understand, but the look on his face was slow to change, almost like he still didn't believe you. You snatched your hand out of his grasp. “But thanks for caring.” You laced the statement with a slight venom, almost challenging him. He looked at you longingly then. So much of your relationship with one another going unsaid and sitting heavy between the two of you.

“You know I always fucking cared-” “No.” your voice was commanding.

“What?” he said slightly hurt and confused.

“Frankie, we're not doing this now.”

“Doing what?” Santiago's voice cut between the two of you as he made his way out of the house, a couple of the money bags in his hands.

“Nothing man, nothing.” Frankie said as he took a step back from you. He lifted his hat from his head, using the back of his hand to smooth the hair beneath it, attempting to look anywhere but at you as you went back to loading the bags into the van.

“Benny's just packing up the last two bags.” Will said as he came out to the van. He didn't add the bags in his hands to the pile, instead putting them straight into the back of the vehicle, pushing you out the way so he could get through.

You took a step back to survey the three men before you, as Will and Frankie began working together to haul the last of the bags into the van. “So you guys really telling me Benny knows nothing at all, and I'm not just talking about Italy.” The three men turned to look at you. This was the first time ever you'd been alone with the three of them together since all this started and you were dying for some answers.

“It never came up.” Santi sheepishly answered, shrugging it off.

“But the three of you have talked about this shit?” you questioned, quickly becoming bolder.

“Why, you been feeling your ears getting a little bit hot chica?” Santiago began teasing you.

“No.” you fired back a little too quickly shooting him a death look at the same time. You were surprised though when, instead of Santi coming back with another quip to continue teasing you, it was Will's voice that filled the silence.

“You know I'm beginning to think she get's off on the idea of us talking about her and debating over who did her better.” He said with a low chuckle. You shoot daggers at Will for the low blow but it only makes him smile.

“Well William, if you truly do know everything, then you know it's no competition and you already know who I think the best was.” you are quick to rebuttal, your voice taunting.

“The best at what?” Benny's voice questioned as he brought the last bags out to the van, throwing them in the back.

“Fucking me.” you say shooting him a wink and a cheeky grin. Your voice is so nonchalant when you say it, he knows you're saying it to taunt him. It sounds like such an exaggeration, like the farthest thing from the truth, a lie just to wind him up. He scoffs irritated as you raise your eyebrows at him and make your way towards the front of the van, away from his view. But what he doesn't know, that his brothers do, was that it was completely true. You had just taunted him with the truth and gotten away with it and damn were they impressed.

Santi practically chokes as he tries to hide his laughter, sputtering and coughing from how blatant you were. Will gave a small snicker before looking to his brother with sympathy, patting him on the shoulder. Frankie closed the doors to the back of the van, practically skipping around the side of the vehicle after you. You look back to him and he shoots you a look as if you say 'you're playing with fire' as he reaches out to open the door for you.

You give him a sickly sweet smile in return. He rolls his eyes at you as he leans against the door, waiting for you to hop into the van first and slide past the steering wheel, into the middle. You climb onto the seat but pause, looking directly at Frankie. He truly turns his head to look at you now, the serious look on your face when you address him. “You know it was always you right?” you asked him.

With everything that had happened between you, he genuinely hadn't known, but he could tell by your face you weren't talking just about the sex anymore. He wanted to push you further but the passenger door opened on the other side of the van as Santiago climbed in. When Frankie looked back to you, you had already turned away.

He took the drivers seat beside you, slamming the door shut a little bit too hard. He fumbled with the keys in the ignition. 'Why had you had to drop this on him now?' he thought to himself.

“Fish you okay man?” Santiago's voice rang out in the silence. Frankie's head snapped towards his best friend but his eyes somehow ended up landing on you. He took a moment to steady himself, his fingers going into autopilot as they once more placed the keys into the ignition, turning it over. The van roared to life.

The three of you watched as the Miller brothers took off in a separate car in front of you. “Alright man let's go.” Santi said slapping the dashboard and Frankie put his foot down on the accelerator, following the car in front back into the cover of the trees around them.

Let me know if you want to be added onto the tag list for this fic. I also won’t be adding names just from likes again like I did with the announcement post so if you want to be notified you have to put it in writing for me.

@icanbeyourjedi @theshiningharmony @darnitdraco @kesskirata @wyn-dixie @rosiefridayrogersunday @actual-spawn-of-satan @clydesducktape @asta-lily @honey-hi @heythere-mel @heidi-toevs @wigofokoye @choricenter @goodgriefitsawildworld @lostgirlheather @d0uwannkn0w @justdrawings101 @nicotinebirds @bisexualolympus @babyratt19 @cookiecat22 @itspdameronthings

#triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #reader insert #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #santiago garcia #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia x reader #will miller #william ironhead miller #will miller x reader #benny miller #what benny doesn’t know #fanfiction

292 notes · View notes

waywardimpalawriter · 3 years

Note

“I’m done. I’m done trying so hard only for you to never even look in my direction.”

With Marcus Pike? Maybe BFFs to lovers because I want it to end happy? Thank you 🙏

Love of his life

Pairing: Marcus Pike x best friend!Female Reader

Characters: Marcus Pike,

Setting: five years after the last episode Marcus was in.

Rating: PG:13

Warnings: 2,774

Summary: Conversation overheard leads to feelings of regret at the chance not taken. Will he take that risk and go for who he wants or let it slide away just like the past?

Word count:

Notes: Written for the lovely @hnt-escape asking for the prompt “I’m done. I’m done trying so hard only for you to never even look in my direction.” Will be in bold in the story. I hope you enjoy sweetie.

Tag List:

Forever tags: @chickensarentcheap @jedi-mando

Pedro Pascal tags: @evyiione

Staring into the caramel colored liquid ceramic mug warming your hands, thoughts clouded by a certain brown eyed man and how to handle the feelings you’ve harbored since grade school.

“Trying to divine this weeks lotta numbers from you coffee sweetie?” Soothing southern accented voice breaks through the fog smile in the sweet lilt.

Head snapping up to look towards the blonde, grin firmly in place over her ruby lips, “I wish, would donate at least half to research the antiquities we have that no one’s cataloged yet.”

“Wow devoted,” chuckling, walking over to the Keurig k-cup spinner to pluck the last Colombian dark roast pod. “What or should I say who’s on that gorgeous your mind that’s got your brow furrowed deeper than the Mariana Trench?”

Not wishing to discuss your thoughts right now, you deflect to ask, “Those things waste so much Donna and bad for the environment. Why don’t you just buy the bulk grounds?”

“Great way to keep from answering the true question,” baby blues lock, sincerity written deep and meaningful. Knowing she’s only trying to help having confided many times your dilemma those feelings you’ve held on to for so long brings about. “I don’t know why you haven’t told him sugar I mean you came to DC…”

“For this job Donna, Marcus turned up later… not much later,” last few words muttered into cooling coffee you try to hide behind while taking a sip. “I didn’t upheave my life for a man,” not sure who you’re trying to convince more yourself or Donna.

Established in your position at the museum a month before Marcus’s transfer and at the time he’s heavily invested with one Teresa Lisbon. Memories flood through like film reel before your eyes. Of that very night he comes to you heartbroken bags in hand with no one beside him and no real place to go. Promising yourself to shove your feelings aside and help him get back on steady legs. Even letting him stay till his place became ready to move in.

Loud snort greets your ears, breaking you from memory lane. “You keep telling yourself that and while you’re at it keeping him friend zoned when your clearly in love with him does neither one of you any good. He ain’t gonna wait around forever sugar trust me on that one,” hurt coloring her tone speaking volumes of her own pain. She looks away to watch the final drops of coffee land in her mug. You know exactly why she’s not looking at your right now, the hurt she tries to hide behind the bubbly personality. Fixing her coffee up just the way she likes to hide her own pain she’s shared a few times.

“How,” licking your lips slowly, mug placed beside you on the counter to clasp your hands in front of you. “I’m not even sure how or where to start Donna. He’s my best friend knows me inside and out I don’t…”

“Do you love him?” Simple question with no easy answer as grey blue eyes land on and pierce you with their intensity.

“I…” wringing those hands her question chases thoughts around your head. Finally giving the heart answer, “I love him, just unsure if he loves me in the same way. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to change the dynamics of our relationship and loose what we have for a what if.”

“Oh sweetheart I know it’s not easy to bank on what if’s but trust me when I say that man loves you in ways I’ve never seen and I’ve seen a lot.” Giving you a teasing wink then sobering, “Why do ya think I haven’t tried to snag him up myself?”

“Cause he’s not your type?” Joke sounding stupid to your own ears, glaze dropping to your shoes. “What if… what if I’m not his type? I mean you’ve seen the women he’s gone out with before. I’m hardly in the same league.”

“No your in a league of your own sugar.” Head nodding in understanding Donna comes over resting a hand on your bicep giving a gentle squeeze. “Compensating maybe even trying to replace the one he truly wants sweetheart. Don’t let a good man slip away especially since you love him.”

“I do, he’s,” head shaking at a loss for words to describe Marcus. “Amazing and sweet, the kind of man that’s so easy to love and care for. I’m lost truly without him.” Happy tears blur your vision for a moment thinking about him. How he’s always at your side just when you need him without notice at times. Sixth sense when you need those late night pancakes from the best diner in town. Watching old movies after a crappy break up, snuggled together with popcorn and beer, snacks of all kinds. Snap shot of his face filters across your vision, “I’m gonna tell him in fact,” glancing down at your watch finding end of day fast approaching. “Would you close down for me Donna I need to tell him now before loosing my nerve.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice sugar go get your man,” nodding towards the doorway you start for, coffee long forgotten in favor of someone more sweeter. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

“There’s things you wouldn’t do?” Cheeky grin highlighting your features, the sound of crinkling plastic reaching your ears so you look down. Frown replacing the smile at finding a small bouquet of blue tipped carnations laying on the ground. Bending to scoop up the beautiful flowers knowing only one man would’ve brought these. “Shit,” curse flying from your mouth while your feet start to eat up the distance towards the back doors bouquet held firmly in your grasp.

Missing Donna yelling about your keys and belongings, to not forget about the storm rumbling in the background. Wide smile forming watching you go hoping you’ll catch Marcus just in time.

While you pray with each step taken you’ll catch him in time to explain. Thoughts running rampant wondering what he heard and didn’t. If the reason for the dropped flowers has to do with the fact he thinks you love someone else. That last thought spurs you on into a run, thankful for the flats you wore today instead of customary heels you normally wear. Eating up the distance you burst through the back doors into a curtain of rain meeting your eyes as more curses fly from your lips. You pause eyes narrowing through the gloom looking for Marcus’s car, his back, hair surely plastered to against his head. Something to point you in the right direction. At the right moment a flash of lighting illuminating the darken skies, makes you jump but press on determined to find him. While stepping out into the pouring rain, clothes soaked through low rumblings of thunder taking your calls out for Marcus away with the howling wind.

Tears form and slide down cool cheeks, still franticly looking around but coming up empty till you catch the flash of grey out of your periphery. Whipping around you head in the direction calling out his name praying there’s a break in the rain so your voice carries to his ears.

And for a moment that one split second he catches a sound other than the storm raging around him. Sweet desperate voice calling out his name, giving him pause in dragging footsteps. Looking around but seeing nothing but the driving rain, drops soaking his suit and blurring his vision. Before turning to resume his path the voice calls out again, nearer and stronger than the last time.

His doubts cloud the mind, accusing him of hearing things the wind brings from other parts of the parking lot. Till a vision dressed in black slacks, creamy silk blouse, hair and clothes plasters to your body appears in front of him. Hand raised in the vain attempt to keep the rain from your face as you search for him.

Eyes lock surprised deep chocolate orbs meet the relief in yours, “You’re gonna get sick sweetheart go back inside.”

“No,” single word yelled out as you near Marcus, gripping his bicep and moving closer to speak into his ear. Warm breath making him shiver despite the cold rain trying to drown the both of you. “Why’d you leave?”

“Saw you busy didn’t want…” shaking your head Marcus swallows catching sight of the flowers in your free hand.

“You dropped these why?” Hurt lacing the tone in your voice as you bring the small plastic wrapped bundle up between you. “Thank you.”

Eyes dart between the flowers and your eyes unsure how to answer your question as so many of his own chase around his mind. Wanting the truth Marcus gather’s his courage to ask, “Do you love him?”

Confusion coats your veins, drawing up your brows with the same emotion till it clicks. “Yes, very much in fact you just doesn’t know it.”

“I’m done,” pain etched into his voice heart aching behind its prison of bone and flesh. Misunderstanding the look in your eyes and the words your spoke. “I’m done trying so hard only for you to never even look in my direction. I just can’t do it anymore it’s so much worse than any of the other.” Taking two steps back from your touch that sears the skin under heavy suit jacket and starch white cotton dress shirt. Gaze dropping to concrete unable to look into your eyes a second longer knowing he’s lost the chance. Internally cursing himself for waiting so long, letting other’s in his heart when the one woman he’s wanted all along stood by him through all life’s ups and downs.

Frowning at the loss of touch, his words sinking in you step forward he matches with one back. “Marcus,” soft achingly tender voice reaches out towards him. Heard now the rain has slowed to light drizzle. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to tell you I love you? Not as a brother or best friend, but in love with you.”

“What?” Single word choked off on a gasp, eyes reaching your smiling orbs trying to find the jest. Only seeing genuine love backed by worry and fear that he doesn’t truly have the same feelings. “You never told me.”

“You didn’t tell me either Pike so we’re kinda in the same boat,” carefully reaching out for his nearest hand tugging him back towards you. “So many times I’d try to tell you, to explain, to see if there’s a chance for us. Every time someone else got my shot. I gave up almost for good this time.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Moving closer, warm palm coming up to cup your cheek from apple to jawline. Thump brushing slowly over soft delicate skin drowning in your eyes as you rubbing your cheek into his large palm. “Never would’ve guess you felt the same way.”

Not sure how to answer the first question, so you joke instead. “Not only good at picking out a fake piece of art but putting on a good show.” Trying to infuse a little lightheartedness into the tense moment. “Gonna call Oscar see if they’ll give me one of those little golden guys for my performance. Not Ingrid Bergman worthy but I can hold my own,” nervous little laugh leaving your lips that Marcus brushes his thumb over the bottom lip. Stuck dumb by the action breath shallow before held while trying to depict the emotions running through those sweet brown eyes. “Say some Marcus.”

The tremor in your voice shakes the shocked cobwebs from his mind to focus his thoughts. Picking up that you haven’t answered his first question, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Which time?” Breathy sigh leaving your mouth as you try to gather the right words. “Not to mention your my best friend Marcus I didn’t want to fuck that up especially if you didn’t feel the same way,” taking a breath fresh rain mixes with the warm subtle cologne Marcus wears. “Couldn’t risk loosing you and changing our relationship for a what if.”

“And now?” Cupping the other side of your face, keeping your chin tilted upward, eyes searching the depths of yours. Finding the peace he’s missed out on with everyone who came before. Home written in your embrace, sweet light flora scent wrapping around his senses reminding him of just who he needs.

Swallowing, pink tongue coming out to wet your lips, a path he follows with rapt attention. “I recently became enlightened by a good friend reminding me sometimes you need to take those chances.” Both arms wrap around his neck, flowers still clutched tightly, free hand carding through rain soaked strands at the back of his head. Blunt nails scratching gently over Marcus’s neck receiving a shiver that vibrates through your body and has nothing to do with the cool air or wet clothing.

“And you want to take that leap with me?” Inching closer with barely a millimeter’s breath between your lips. Eyes still wide open assuring each other and finally showing the truth and need.

“I think this is the beginning of a beautiful love affair,” cheeky smile splitting your face at the crinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes. Knowing full well you’ve gotten the quote wrong on purpose.

“Here’s looking at you kid,” deepened voice sending tingles of excitement racing down your spine. Slightest brush of his chapped lips to yours bringing a sigh and parting your mouth that’s captured and devoured.

Angling your head just right as he licks into your sweet coffee tasting mouth mixing the minty freshness of his. Low groan whispers between your lips, which moves and changes. Nibbling his bottom lip, slipping your tongue over the bruised skin to sooth before sliding back into the warm cavern of his delectable mouth. Dreams having no merit on the real kiss that makes your toes curl a moan of your own existing to join with the groan he’s let loose. Air becoming much needed and you part to rest foreheads together.

“I love you to have for a long time,” admitting his feelings frees a part of him held back for so long. “I’m sorry for all the missed opportunities but if you’ll let me I’ll make them all up to you.”

“Start by taking me home to change then out for pancakes,” bright smile blooming over your lips that press into his. Unable to stop yourself from giving another tender kiss while wrapping your arms around his shoulders tighter. “And kisses lots more kisses,” mumbling the words into his mouth while initiating another kiss for emphasis.

Only breaking when someone clears their throat you both turn to see Donna standing there with your purse in hand. “No making out in the parking lot you two take it home,” grinning extending your purse towards you. “Just remember don’t do anything I would,” before turning to start back towards the museum. “Congratulations by the way took y’all long enough.”

“There’s things you’d do I wouldn’t Donna,” you call after her shaking your head before looking back up at Marcus. Catching the look burning in his eyes, “I’m guessing pancakes won’t happen tonight huh?”

Soft smirk slides over those kiss swollen lips, “Later but right now I have other plans.” Tugging you against his chest for one last deep drugging kiss that leaves you weak kneed and panting.

“Care to share those plans?” Snuggling into his arms as you both head the last short distance to his car.

Opening then crowding you into the corner of the door hands braced on either side to lean in placing a soft chase kiss to your cheek. “Making up for all the missed time and then later,” pausing to brush his lips over your ear. Whispering the last words with gentle puffs of air floating across your skin. “I’ll make you those pancakes and lick the syrup from your lips afterwards and any other place you’ll let me.”

“Only if you’ll let me return the flavor,” mischievous smile stretching across your lips, ducking under his arms to slide into the car. Finding him still standing there, you tug on his jacket gaining his attention.

Darken eyes meet yours, “I’ll even paint you like one of my French girls,” sending you a playful wink while closing the car door and running around to the drivers side. Marcus slides in, key slipping into ignition, simple flick of his wrist the car flares to life and he’s backing out heading for home and a new start filled with promise.

#Request #Marcus Pike x Female Reader #Marcus Pike x FemReader #Marcus Pike x F!Reader #Marcus Pike Fiction #Pedro Pascal Character fanfiction #The Mentalist Fiction

58 notes · View notes

adonis-koo · 3 years

Text

to the moon and back

Summary: Sometimes the distance in relationships really does make a strain and sometimes...it can really make quite the experience, at least in your experience with your boyfriend who only lives half way across the world...

Pairing: Jungkook/Reader, theres like,,,implied Taehyung/Reader if you really squint

Genre: angst, smut,

Word Count: 6.4k

Tags: long distance relationship that I accidentally projected way too much of my own personal experience into 😃, Jungkook just really loves MC, skype sex, I am sorry, mutual masturbation, a little praise kink, Jungkook says baby in korean a lot and once again I am sorry, sex toys, a lil overstim, nothing too crazy tbh, dirty talk, dom!jungkook and sub!MC 🤑

Note: I missed ldr!Jungkook and MC which is based off this sorta imagine I did for them! So I cured it by writing a lil bit about them!! :)

“Hey Jungkook…”

The said man in question suddenly perked up from where he had been looking down, half his hair tied up and he was rubbing his eyes, he looked tired these days and sometimes you couldn’t help but feel bad. Long distance relationships weren’t always what they were cracked up to be and it wasn’t like you were intentionally looking for a ball and chain at the time...

But well, it was a long night, you were slightly drunk and in a long dry spell so you thought, what the hell? When you signed up for a sub/dom dating website. Again, your intentions weren’t to actually date someone, you were just slightly drunk and horny, and waking up the morning after your phone had been blown up by your now boyfriend. It was innocent at first, you both had a good laugh (to somewhat of your embarrassment) about the whole drunk thing and you were just curious to get to know him.

It was from there you had learned he lived halfway across the planet in South Korea and not only this but when you began exchanging photos he was by far the most beautiful man you had ever seen. One thing led to another and eventually you both decided to make it official.

You were used to this of course, you had never actually met him in person and sometimes you felt a little apprehensive to do so, you knew it would hurt Jungkook severely if he ever found out but still...sometimes it felt like you just didn’t know him as much as you wanted too.

Time zones were a literal hell, by the time you woke up he was getting ready to sleep and most the time texts weren’t sent until the next day, video calls were rare and usually had to wait until the weekend. It sucked.

Jungkook, if anything, had been trying to convince you to at least fly out to see him, he even offered to pay for your ticket as he was- ahem- apparently in the chain of business for a really well known exports corporation and was a supervisor so he lived very well off in comparison to yourself, who was still in college and buried in debt with little to no money left outside of the expenses of living.

But again, you were just...nervous...flying by yourself, to a country you had never been too, to meet a man you had never met...You knew realistically everything would be fine, Jungkook was exactly who he said he was, he wasn’t some criminal that was going to murder you and sell your body parts on the black market but…! You just wanted to be safe! To be careful even if that would never happen.

“Hm?” Jungkook hummed, it was a late saturday night for him but he always stayed up just for you, just to be able to talk to you, to see your face, even if you went hours not talking to one another while he worked and you studied. He told you he just enjoyed looking over at his monitor and seeing you.

Currently you had been curled up on your pillow scrolling on your phone and occasionally admiring your boyfriend’s side profile and strands of hair long hair that fell from his face, “Why did you learn English?”

Jungkook raised his brow a little before suddenly laughing causing you to shift a little in embarrassment feeling as though you had said something dumb, “Well,” He rasped a little, he had been brushing up on his english ever since you started dating but he was also a little self conscious of his accent despite you saying several times over how much you adored it, “English is mandatory to learn in school but I learned extensively due to my family traveling a lot for business and work. I once spent a whole year in New York when my father was employed overseas, that was actually how I became so fluent, classes are fine but experience always teaches best in my opinion....” Jungkook’s lips curled into a smile as he hummed once more, “Which means your studies in Korean would be easier if you visited…”

Flustered you rolled onto your back as you pressed your pillow against your face, “Jungkook…!” You whined wiggling in your best as you heard his laugh filter through the speaker, “I need you know I really need to stay and study for my finals, it makes up for over forty percent of my grade!”

“Not even for winter break?” Jungkook let his lips jut into a pout as he laid his chin against his hand, “Jagi I have a bed that’s way too big to sleep in all by myself, are you gonna make me downgrade?” He sighed dramatically as he fell back in his computer chair pulling his hair tie out as his hair fell at his cheeks as he began to fix it.

You ignored the heat immediately flushing between your legs at the deep rasp of his voice, “My mom’s expecting me to come home to visit for the holidays Koo…” You frowned as you peeped out from behind your pillow to find the massive pout on your boyfriend's face as he sunk in his seat.

“Sometimes I think you’re just embarrassed to tell people we’re in a relationship,” Jungkook mumbled as he sat up in his seat, running his fingers through his hair as he sulked, obviously trying not to let your rejection make him upset but even through a screen you could always read his moods, sometimes too easily.

“That is not true!” Your voice was immediately serious as you sat up, fixing your laptop as you set it in front of you, Jungkook was once more slouched in his seat, his hand resting on his cheek as he looked away from the screen, “That is not true Jungkook, I-...” You sighed, “I can’t just drop all my responsibilities here to visit you, you know this, you know hard I’ve been studying for finals and how much my family has been wanting to see me…”

Jungkook didn’t reply for a moment but you could’ve sworn you heard something akin to a scoff escape his lips, “But you still haven’t told your family...have you?”

“I haven’t had the chance…” You were immediately trying to defend your reasoning when deep down you felt bad that well...he was right...to a degree, but what were you supposed to tell you family? You met your boyfriend on an offshoot website based around sexual play and not only this but he lived half way around the world.

“You talk to your mom on the phone weekly Y/n,” The longer Jungkook looked away from the screen the more upset he was getting and you could tell and yet you felt so helpless, it wasn’t like you could just reach over and grab his face, or simply hug him and apologize. Once again, you found yourself at a loss of what to do or say.

It wasn’t that you wished you hadn’t met Jungkook, you’d never in your life change that night, but sometimes you wished things weren’t so complicated and that your fears wouldn’t get the best of you. And you did speak some truth, even if you weren’t nervous to meet Jungkook in person, it didn’t change the fact that you wouldn’t be able to go now with finals approaching and your family expecting you for the holidays.

“I’m just,” Jungkook inhaled sharply before letting out a sigh, “I just feel so frustrated sometimes, I want to be with you, not part time, half time, or only at night. I want to wake up with you in my arms every single day. And I can’t do that, hell I can’t even get a phone call during the week let alone a text at the same time of day if I’m lucky. We just had a work party where everyone brought their partners and I couldn’t bring mine because she lives in America.”

His upset was beginning to make you upset, it felt like your gut was being grinded and it wrenched in an unpleasant feeling as you spoke, “Look I’m sorry okay? I can’t help it that this is where I live, I understand you want to be with me, you don’t think I want the same thing?” You put your hand on your chest, trying to keep your voice level as you swallowed harshly, “But right now, I can’t help it Jungkook. The holidays just aren’t a good time right now…”

“Then what was the excuse during the end of the summer when you weren’t even in school and your parents didn’t want to see you?” Jungkook replied, his jaw clenched and hurt in his eyes as he questioned you, “Or was it still because you were sick in the middle of july?”

“I just met you!” You cried out now beginning to feel genuinely hurt at your boyfriend questioning the sincerity of your feelings, “I wasn’t going to fly out to Korea to meet someone I had only been talking to for three weeks! Jungkook this is-”

“I’m not embarrassed to be with you! God, that is literally the last thing on my mind right now! I’m embarrassed at the way we met, I’m embarrassed that I- I somehow have to explain to my family that my boyfriend lives in South Korea and that I’ve never met him and somehow explain to them that you aren’t some serial rapist or human trafficker out to sell my kidney! Because that’s exactly what I’m going to hear! And I’m sorry I just haven’t been ready to deal with that!” You couldn’t even stop the tears from flowing down your face as you pressed your hands to your eyes, “It’s easy for you to talk about us because you’re an adult who lives debt free by himself in his own apartment with your own secure job and you don’t have to answer or deal with anyone, even your own parents! That’s not how it is for me Jungkook.”

Your head was lowered as you tried to muffle your sobs that was the only thing that filled the loud silence that filtered the air, running your hands through your hair as you took a breath. You could hear a sigh on the other side before Jungkook spoke, “Y/n…”

“You know what,” You sniffled as you straightened up, “I’m not in the mood to talk anymore,”

“Y/n! No! Jagi listen-”

“No I’m done!” You argued back as you wiped your face with the sleeve of your hoody, “I don’t want to talk to you right now. Goodnight.” You clicked the end call button before closing down your laptop. Sitting now, staring at your distinct reflection on the black screen before bursting into a new set of tears.

Your phone’s ringtone was immediately set off as you sobbed, picking it up as you harshly punched the decline call button before it quickly popped back up on the screen only for you to press it even more vehemently. Your phone lit up several times being flooded with messages from Jungkook trying to convince you to talk to him but you immediately turned off your phone as you collapsed back against your bed, weeping against your pillow as you tried to ignore the pure hurt that filtered your veins despite it being justified.

God you shouldn’t have even said any of that to Jungkook! Really it was your fault you hadn’t seen him, you had made excuses all because you were just scared. He was probably going to break up with you now...Squeezing your pillow tight you closed your eyes as you muffled your sobs.

“Girl why are you staring at your phone?” Lisa sighed in exasperation, “Don’t tell me…Oh shit…” She sighed as she watched your eyes begin to pitfully water, “What was it this time?”

“I’m a horrible person be-because I can’t just fucking suck it up and tell my family about my boyfriend and- and I can’t just go visit him!” You were already wiping your eyes despite not even crying yet and you refused to ruin your mascara in a public store. The bookstore was quiet as ever and the barista who worked the cafe was still sorting magazines out on the rack not even paying attention to you both but still you had to keep up your ideals or else you’d be crying all the time.

“You are not a horrible person oh my god!” Lisa raised her brows before scoffing, she pointed a long acrylic nail at you as she spoke, “That boy needs to calm his hormones, you are strapped for the rest of the holidays. Y/n! Come on, seriously you need to draw some boundaries with him! Just be honest and it’s going to save you both a lot of trouble.”

You sunk in your seat as your lips began to tremble making Lisa sigh, “How many messages did he send this time?”

“Twenty four.” You mumbled.

“Jesus Christ.” Lisa groaned as she pressed her hand against her forehead, her bangs which had been melded together with hairspray not even moving an inch, “What even started this fight!?”

Lisa was not only your closest friend but most times she was also your voice of reason which you knew was most times right but still you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed as you twirled your straw that poked through the lid of your iced coffee, “Well it was innocent at first, I just asked him why he learned English when he was younger and it translated into him saying experience taught him best which meant going to Korea would help me with my own language studies.”

“Why can’t you just be honest with him!? Seriously! Y/n!” She gave you her premium disappointed look as you whined, kicking your feet as you covered your hands over your face knowing she was right, but!

“That would literally crush him!” You replied feeling defeated as you slumped in your seat once more, sighing as sadness filled you, “It feels like…” You poked your tongue into your cheek as you exhaled in frustration, “No matter how hard I try, I just always end up hurting him. Jungkook would be so hurt if he knew my main reason for not wanting to see him.”

Lisa raised her brows as she scoffed, “No he would not! If he’s so desperate to jump on your pussy he’ll come to America and not only meet you but he’ll be meeting me as well the first time. This relationship is a two way street Y/n-”

“He has a whole team he’s managing Lisa, he’s told me he’d visit if he could schedule the time off but-”

“All I hear is an excuse,” Lisa clacked her tongue, “Fair is fair, you’re just being cautious as anyone should be when they’re talking to someone over the internet,” She curved a brow before snorting as she sipped her drink, “Now listen, do I think he’s a kidnapper that’s gonna kill you? No. Do I think he’s a fuckboy that just really wants to smash you? Maybe, it’s your relationship. Do what you want but regardless of whether your reasoning is legit he should respect it regardless.”

You deflated as you sighed, scrolling through his messages where he had profusely apologized several times and went on to explain that he just really wanted to be with you and never meant to dismiss your feelings on the matter. You hadn’t replied yet which made you feel even worse but truthfully, you just really wanted to talk to see him tonight on a video call and talk things over.

“Anyways, it’s time to boss up bitch,” Lisa pulled out the three textbooks from her bag before dropping them on the table as she offered a smile, “We got finals to prep for, we’re in the two week countdown so we need to cram as much as possible.”

Sighing you glanced down at your phone one last time before turning it off knowing the temptation to look over Jungkook’s messages would be too tempting. Putting your phone away you pulled out your notebook along with your own textbooks as you nodded, “You’re right, it’ll at least take my mind off of it…”

You could only hope.

You had spent the last ten minutes trying to gas yourself up, Jungkook had stopped texting around lunch time having obviously given up and giving you space as this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened and he knew if he just gave you time you’d eventually reach out to him.

Like right now, except you felt severely embarrassed for your actions this morning and you knew you could have handled things in a better and more mature way then you had, regardless you were struggling to even send a text at the moment let alone video call him...Checking the clock on your phone you sighed, it was already 1pm in Seoul....

Jungkook if anything was probably on his computer sulking while playing video games as he usually did on his weekends off when he wasn’t talking to you. Sucking in a breath you knew you needed to talk to him now because if you didn’t you’d have to go the whole week with stale texts that never went over well and you weren’t working with much to begin with, you didn’t want to make it worse. Sighing, you sat down on your bed as you began to type.

[10:25]

‘I’m sorry I haven’t replied to any of your messages :( can you video right now?’

You chewed on your lip anxiety immediately spiking in your head as you wondered if you came across too much like a victim...Or maybe you should’ve just not mentioned the not replying to his messages and just asked if-

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of the skype call sounding with Jungkook’s name under it, grabbing your chest you collapsed onto the bed as you made yourself comfortable, shying away from the camera as you grabbed your pillow in insecurity before accepting the call.

“I really am sorry Jagi,” You couldn’t even open your mouth before Jungkook’s worried expression showed up on your laptop, the hoodie covering his head and just as you expected his puppy like eyes were glossed and filled with sadness, “I- I didn’t realize how much stress you were under and I shouldn’t have been so careless. This is the only time during the week that I get to see you and I really don’t want to argue…”

You curled up against your pillow as you mumbled, “I should be the one apologizing, I know how much it means to you for us to be able to see each other in person and I need to make the time for us to be able to do that it’s just…” You had meant to tell him the truth but- “I just have a lot going on right now but I didn’t mean to take that out on you, I know you just want us to be together...”

“Oh jagiya,” Jungkook sighed, longing filled his face and his fingers twitched a little as they ran through his hair as if wishing he could just hold you close to him, “It’s okay, I’m just glad you wanted to talk. I didn’t want the whole week to drag by without being able to talk to you, you know you always make my day better…”

And just like that your chest blossomed with warmth as you curled up, hiding the smile that began to creep on your lips as you squeezed your pillow, “Not as much as you make my day. Especially when you send those tease pictures for me right before I need to go to bed.” You would never get enough of that addictive feeling of talking to Jungkook, his smile was always infectious.

And just like that you watch, just like every other time, in amazement at the way Jungkook’s personality switches like a light, the innocent sweet smile that was once on his lips is suddenly twisted into a cocky smirk and he leans back his chair, his long hair is slightly messy but just enough to make him look truly wicked, “Oh? Is that right gongjunim? I thought you’d appreciate it?”

Said photo in question was sent thursday night when you were prepping for bed and Jungkook had very obviously just gotten out of the shower in the mirror selfie he had sent that displayed the chiseled abdomen and broad chest and not to mention the….ahem package he was sporting beneath the thin towel that he had purposely clutched with his free hand.

Yeah...that nearly destroyed your right hand.

“Well I did…” You immediately coiled up, no matter how many times this happens with your boyfriend- which is nearly every weekend, you always end up getting shy despite your thighs furiously pressing together and wetness building up in your panties, “Maybe a little too much…”

Jungkook pressed his tongue into his cheek as his smirk widened, just his stare made you press your face into the pillow as you heard his chuckle, “What? What did you do?”

The fact that he skipped to the golden question made you whine as you kicked your feet, you could hear another laugh from him as you curled up once more, “You know…” You mumbled, feeling your face burn as you pressed it against the pillow.

“No baby I don’t.” Jungkook pouted but his voice rasped and something about saying baby in english with that accent of his had your fingers twitching as he puffed a breath of air in cockiness as he hummed, “Why don’t you tell me hm?”

Shifting against the bed you shook your head, “You know what I’m talking about…”

“Do I?” Jungkook challenged as he raised a brow, his beginning to clench as he slipped into his dominant headspace, tucking his tongue into his cheek as he asked, “If you can’t use your words would you rather show me? Be a good girl and show me, yeah?”

Your words were muffled as you replied, “I had help…” Your face felt like it was practically on fire as you rubbed your legs together as you heard him laugh, “Then be a good girl and go get it jagiya, I’ll still be here.” You gave Jungkook a good laugh as you nearly scrambled out of bed to get your bullet vibrator off it’s charger before diving back on the bed making your laptop bounce as you sat up right.

Jungkook meanwhile had pulled off his sweatshirt and repositioned his camera to expose his lower body, the familiar sight of his plump cherry lips exposed in that forever tainted smirk as he made himself comfortable in his chair, his thighs spreading apart and the indent in his sweats showing off proudly, “Good girl kitty, now I want you to take off your clothes, all of it.”

You wiggled in your comfy sweatshirt feeling a little shy as you began to shed your clothes, “The bra too baby,” Jungkook coaxed as he licked his lips, his cock tightening and becoming harder at the sight of your flustered, shy expression as you unhooked your bra, there was nothing more this man wanted then to suckle on your nipples that immediately hardened against the chilled air of the room.

Jungkook’s hand found its way to his bulge as he palmed himself through his grey sweats, “Panties too baby, I know you’re shy but you need to be a good girl and take them off. And remember your words.” He added with a low growl.

“...Yes sir.” You mumbled, feeling chilly and exposed to nothing more then the camera on your laptop and Jungkook of course before you pulled off the panties you wore, arousal sticking to the fabric that stringed before you tossed them aside, your eyes unable to stay off his hand that kept stroking his bulge.

“Good girl,” His lips twitched into a sadistic smile, “Now spread your legs jagiya and show me what you did to that photo I sent you, every little detail baby.” You whined as you looked away from the camera, “Jagiya…” Jungkook’s voice deepened a little in warning, “Are you gonna make me get out the controller?”

Outwardly you’d completely deny that but inwardly....The idea nearly had you frothing out the mouth, but reluctantly you did as he asked, the chilled air nipping at your exposed warm wet folds had your levels of arousal that much higher and you could hear a soft verbal moan from Jungkook as he squeezed his hand over his cock, “Shibal,” He muttered a few other words in korean that you could only half make out before he spoke once more, “You’re so fucking wet baby. Play with yourself, don’t make me wait.”

Tenderly you slipped your hand between your thighs, flinching a little at the cold that seeped from your fingers that met in opposition to the heat radiating off your cunt, arousal met your fingertips as you dragged them up you slit before rubbing slow circles around your clit, your lips parting a little at the idea of it being his fingers doing this to you.

Jungkook let out a little scoffed laugh, licking his lips as he pulled down his sweats just enough to free his throbbing cock, a sight you’d never fully get used too and had your mouth watering at just the sight. He was much thicker then he was long but he certainly wasn’t short, the vein on the underside of his cock displayed and you could even see his tip beginning to weep as it became red, “How bad do you wish those were my fingers playing with that little clit baby? Put those fingers inside your cunt baby,lay back and use your toy to make yourself feel good for me.

Situating your laptop before you laidback, opening your legs once more as you began to transition to your subspace as you closed your eyes, imagining his fingers dragging up your inner thighs.

Letting your eyes open you whined at the sight of lube slipping from his cock as his hand slowly pumped his shaft, his lips parted at the sight of one finger slipping inside your cunt before pulling out and adding a second finger. You could just imagine those long thick fingers filling you up while fitting up against your g-spot.

Fumbling with your vibrator you turned it on, switching the setting to a low pattern before carefully placing it on your aching bud. You had anticipated your reaction just as you did everytime and yet every time you still jolted, your walls tightly squeezing around your fingers as a whined squeak escaped your lips.

“Fuck princess that’s it,” Jungkook edged you on, his tongue in his cheek as his hand squeezed around his cock before he used his free hand to grab his own toy, the fleshlight that nearly always turned you into a mess, “Bet that little hole can hardly fit your own fingers let alone my big fat cock, right baby? Yeah?”

Your thighs were twitching as pleasure was rapidly buzzing against your clit and your walls kept squeezing around your fingers as you desperately tried to reach to your g-spot in need for an orgarsm to make up for all the anxiety and stress you had been under the whole day, “Yes! Yes sir! Ah- Mmph need you! Fuck, please! Sir.” You whimpered as your hips jolted to fuck back against your fingers.

Jungkook pushes the opening of the flashlight over his tip as he let out a soft moan, his hips fluidly began thrusting to the point your walls were so tight you could hardly move your fingers just at the idea of his cock forcing its way inside you, you just knew this mans stroke game was good and proved it every fucking time he took out that toy.

Watching his cock disappear with every thrust inside his toy as his lips parted a little wider this time, “You want this baby? You wish this was your pussy I’m fucking nice and deep?”

Your body was too excited for all of his dirty talk as you squirmed shifting the buzzing vibrator to the sweet spot of your clit as you squeaked, trying to keep yourself from being too loud as your roommate was home, “Want it! Want it so fucking bad! Please sir! Sir!”

You were embarrassingly horny and this made worked you up every single time, your hips we’re stumbled and your walls were rapidly clenching in excitement as his thick cock rocking it’s way in and out of the toy that you could just imagine was your pussy he was fucking nice and slow, making you feel his nice fat cock with every killer slow thrust.

“Oh Jagiya,” Jungkook moaned out, “Don’t tell me my kitten is already close?” He chuckled as he watched the way your body withered the way it always did when you were close, his eyes feasting on the way your pussy was stretched so delicately against your small fingers and the way your thighs clenched and your feet kicked, “Do you need to cum so soon?”

“Please! Please! Sir! I- I don’t think I can-“ Your thighs clamped together as your lips fell open, unable to even wait for his blessing as your orgasm ripped through your body, your toes curling as little whimpers escaped you, you could hear a long moan from Jungkook as you liddedly watched his hips stumble against his flesh light, hand running through his hair while he fumbled something in Korean.

“Baby fuuck,” Jungkook’s voice lowered as he moaned, “Cum again princess, cum for me baby I wanna hear you make those noises again for me. Keep those little fingers stuffed inside yourself.” Jungkook’s hips kept stuttering against his toy, his cock throbbing desperate as his moans became breathy at the sight of you obeying him. You were always such a good girl.

Your fingers were aching but your desire to watch him come undone was even greater as you began pushing your fingers back against your g-spot once more, feathery whines escaping you at the feeling of pain beginning to mix with pleasure at the consistent thrum of the vibrator against your clit.

“Ah! S-sir…!” You whimpered quietly as your walls suddenly clamped around your fingers once more, “I- ah! I don’t think I can…!”

“Yes you can,” Jungkook growled his hips bucking up into his toys faster his cock throbbing and squeezing in pleasure at the sight of your arousal slipping from your soaked cunt and the sight of your tits bouncing at the way your body kept squirming, he could only imagine what it would be like fucking you tied up and left to his mercy, “And you will,” He snapped with command, “You’re gonna be a good girl and cum for me again princess. I wasn’t fucking asking.”

Your legs immediately twitched and your breath hitched as you cried out, your back arching at the way your body listened to him so easily on command, your walls tightening around your fingers rapidly and pleasure seered into your clit as the orgasm roughly filled your body, “Ah Jungkook! Fuck, fuck, fuck…! Fuck! Ooh!” Moans escaped you louder then you intended as your hips desperately fucked into your fingers to ride the powerful orgasm you experienced.

Jungkook moaned softly as his hips bucked one last time into his toy before cum was filling it up at the idea of milking all of himself in your little warm cunt, letting his hips swivel as he milked every last drop of cum from his cock as he moaned before relaxing back in his chair.

Chuckling a little at watching your lower body scramble at your vibrator continuing to drill against your over stimulated clit as you struggled to turn it off, “Take your fingers out baby, I wanna see them.” Jungkook licked his lips as you obeyed him, pulling your fingers from your cunt to reveal the thick layer of arousal and cum on them nearly making Jungkook’s mouth water with the desire to lick every drop off your fingers, this man couldn’t even describe what he’d do to go down on you.

“Ah fuck, jagiya,” Jungkook laughed, a little flustered at the way you sat up, looking directly into the camera before putting your fingers in your mouth, licking off the salty and somewhat musky taste of your arousal which in your opinion wasn’t that great and Jungkook would never accept your opinion on the matter, “You’re gonna make me hard all over again.” He whined as he carefully pulled the toy off his cock, feeling the white substance already rolling down his softening shaft to reveal the mess he had made.

You giggled a little, feeling shy once more as you stood up with wobbling legs, “I don’t have to help with that.” You called out, grabbing your favorite sweatshirt to pull over your body. It was your favorite because...Well because Jungkook had sent it to you and because it was big on him it was massive on you.

You absolutely adored it, coming back in view you collapsed onto your bed as you curled up, Jungkook had just finished cleaning himself up, fixing his camera for you to see the beautiful radiant smile and eyes light up that was your boyfriend. He always had that dreamy look in his eyes while looking at you everytime you finished having Skype sex and everytime it always made you shy as you grabbed your pillow and curled up.

“You’re always so fucking good baby,” He groaned as he ran a hand through his hair, his smile permanently on his face as he stared in adoration at your curled up figure that was practically buried in his sweatshirt, “Mmm you were such a good girl too, your eyes were rolling to the back of your head when I told you to cum again.”

He had a boyish laugh at the way you curled up, “Stoop! You know I was already overstimulated, you better hope my roommate didn’t hear anything…!” You covered your face in embarrassment at the realization you were a little loud.

Jungkook’s face stiffened a little at the mention of your roommate before he tried to play it off with a small laugh, “Yeah well, what’s he gonna do about it anyways? You were just being my good little girl jagiya.” You covered your face in semi embarrassment. You knew Jungkook was redirecting the conversation back to verbal aftercare because you knew he didn’t like the fact that your roommate was a guy who was not only your age but also very attractive.

It wasn’t like Taehyung was ever interested in you, but you had mentioned to Jungkook when you first started talking that you used to have a crush on him. You felt as though some days that still lingered in Jungkook’s mind despite the fact that you didn’t even look at Taehyung twice anymore.

Especially since you and Jungkook became an item, however you also hadn’t told Jungkook that Taehyung had been...Well you weren’t sure what he was doing to be honest outside a few innuendos and winks. It mainly weirded you out as he had never paid any attention to you but regardless. This wasn’t about your roommate, this was about your amazing, handsome boyfriend who somehow managed to make you cum twice just by the sound of his voice, not everything could do that.

“You make it difficult to try and disobey.” You mumbled as a smile tugged in your lips, closing your eyes at the idea of his arms wrapped tight around you and his forehead pressed against your own, you could almost feel his warm breath against your face and his lips pressing against your forehead.

“Mmm id like to see you try,” Jungkook laughed as he leaned back his seat, letting out a content sigh as he spoke, “I’d make you wear those vibrating panties the whole day after making you overestimate yourself and I’d make sure to wake up every hour just to hold that button for three minutes straight.”

“You’re so mean!” You whines as you fluttered your feet before crawling under your covers as you yawned, “You’re already planning a punishment when I haven’t even done anything wrong.”

“I’m not!” Jungkook laughed as he objected, moving his hair from his face, “I’m just telling you what would’ve happened if you weren’t obedient. I mean, that’s not always a bad thing baby.” He sent a wink your way that immediately made your cheeks warm as you pressed your face against the blanket with a giggle.

“I can’t do that over a video call…! Maybe if you were here in my bed I’d be a little more defiant.” You always had a hard time trying to flirt confidently but Jungkook always ate it up every single time you threw him a crumb.

“Jagiya if you can’t be defiant over a call what makes you think you’d manage it when I’m between your legs sucking the soul out of your pussy?” Jungkook was immediately cackling at the way you shoved your face into your pillow with a whine, “Exactly baby, you can’t even look at me right now.” He cooed out.

“Well maybe I’m just a little more bold in person.” You challenged, peeping out from behind your pillow making Jungkook chuckle as he shook his head, his eyes filled with adoration as he leaned back in his seat.

“Well sweetheart I’ll just have to see for myself one day huh?” Jungkook’s smile was so beautiful, it was arguably one of your favorite features as he spoke, “You know I love you to the moon and back jagiya.”

“Well I love you love you to the stars and beyond,” You whispered back as you hugged your pillow close, closing your eyes sleepily as you smiled….One day...Hopefully you’d overcome your anxiety soon to make the one day become soon, you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand being apart from the one person who would never stop making your day.

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader smut #ldr!jungkook

303 notes · View notes

awake-dearheart · 3 years

Text

it took me a couple days but here’s a rundown of things sebastian said during the zoom call with his trainer don saladino and the march challenge group. he was on for an hour and three minutes total. keep in mind this challenge was fitness oriented so most of the questions revolve around that. this will also be LONG.

first of all he had trouble unmuting himself which was hilarious

he had a carboard cutout of the falcon with him which made everyone laugh

he loved being able to support ronald mcdonald house and he was sad they couldn’t go this year. sweet baby

when he was asked what he struggles with in his fitness he immediately said body dysmorphia. like no hesitation. he said he felt like he could stand to be less hard on himself.

he prefers cardio over other kinds of workouts.

he mentioned a role he’s getting ready for that’s “a lot different” but he laughed it off and said he couldn’t talk about it. i’m thinking it might have been tommy lee?

he tries to workout even just a little before he goes to set even when his schedule is crazy.

when he started training he had NO idea what he was doing. it took him a while to get into a routine and figure it out. he credited don with working a lot with him and finding a routine that works for him.

he feels better when he can do something physical every day. he said it really helps him mentally because the two go hand in hand for him.

someone said they were learning romanian and asked him for phrases to learn in romanian he said (in romanian) “oh my GOD why would you do that?” he also said he thinks people learning romanian because of him is “one of the sweetest things.”

he was asked how he balances training to look good vs training to feel good and he said if he’s training to look good he’s never 100% satisfied. training to feel good and setting short term goals has been better for him.

don praised him for working hard to pivot his focus on the overall vs the day to day. seb said it was a lot harder when he started than it is now.

someone asked him if the workouts or the nutrition was harder and he immediately started talking about pizza and how much he loves a good cheat meal. the chat blew up talking about his cheat day video for men’s health.

seb asked don his favorite cheat meal and they went on a tangent about burgers and fries and vodka that had us cracking up. seb said he went through a period where he was eating some kind of chocolate every day.

someone asked if he found it mentally difficult to go from one body type to another for roles and he said absolutely. he said if he has a shirtless scene to do then a month before he cuts out ALL sugar. fruits, carbs, everything and he turns into a very irritable person for about two weeks.

he was asked how the pandemic has changed his training and he said of course it has. him and don worked together to create a program for him to do from home with dumbbells and they had to get inventive. he’s been running a lot too.

someone asked the strangest item he’s used for weights and he said he’d go to the grocery store by himself without uber or anything. he tried to do one big shopping trip to last him for a week and half and he’d be laden with bags and it took him an hour and a half to walk home.

he told a story about using a towel and a bar in his house and he said “you probably know it because some “super fans” love to leak my address. so kind. lovely people.” the chat became v enraged.

he’s never had to get in shape on super short notice. marvel usually gives him about a 2 month heads up before he has to shoot things.

someone asked if he was a dog person. he said he loves dogs and he’d love to have one but he travels too much to give one the right kind of attention. he said if he could have a dog he’d have a bulldog or a husky.

he was asked his favorite nyc cheat meal and his first answer was “seeing all of you there” and we all cracked up. his real answer was a pizza place called rubirosa. he specifically likes their white pizza. (who wants to go to new york and get pizza with me?)

who would win in an iso squat challenge? him or don? (iso squats are when you drop into a squat and you hold it. it’s been the most hated exercise throughout the challenge). his face was HORRIFIED when he remembered what they are and he said don would definitely win. “don you have thighs of glory” the group is contemplating making shirts.

he played some sports in school but he wasn’t a super athletic kid. he struggled in school a bit because he had an accent and people were picking on him. it took a long time for his confidence to build.

celebrate victories where you can. he talked about when he posted that shirtless picture from the gym as an example. he said it’s more for motivation and pride in his achievements than about showing off.

he mentioned the documentary “the weight of gold” as something he watched recently. he said it’s a good example of people who are gold medal olympians struggling with the same things as everyone else when it comes to fitness. he comes back several times to not being too hard on yourself.

he hasn’t lifted any weights in about a month and a half but he’s been running. he’s surprised at the amount of muscle he still has because he thought he’d lose a lot of it.

taking breaks when you’re working on fitness is so important. he says taking a week off sometimes is ok if that’s what you need.

they have talked about pizza at least 5 times at this point (32 minutes in) and it’s HILAROUS honestly.

he hates leg day. he knows how important it is because you need strong legs but he prefers doing arms and chest. “the squats can be so annoying UGH.”

someone asked him his advice for people who are starting an acting career and he laughed and said “quit all social media.” he walked it back and said you have to find a way to quiet the noise.

this mfer went to theatre camp when he was 15 and he did MUSICALS. we tired to get him to sing. it didn’t work.

“you gotta do you. you cannot lose you as you’re going. and you cannot care what people think.”

he talked about imposter syndrome in terms of getting reviews and stuff. he said when he gets bad reviews it hurts but sometimes when he gets good reviews he can think “oh my god they made a mistake” or “oh my god i have to deliver like this every time.” he said if you’re starting out ask yourself why you want to do this and make sure this is what you want to do day in a day out. make sure when you face rejection and obstacles you have the energy to push you to get back up and say “fuck you i’m doing me.”

recommended the book “the subtle art of not giving a fuck” as something he loves.

“there’s creativity in everything. you don’t have to be a pianist or an actor or a writer. there’s creativity in all functions. as people we’re all creative.”

he went back to instagram for a minute and said to use it for the right things and follow the things that you like or are inspired by. he loves that social media can be used to reach people but you have to filter through the negative stuff.

someone asked the meanest thing don’t ever said during training and he said don’s never been mean but he’s always been inspiring and motivating for him. cute lil bromance moment.

he was asked if it’s harder to get into shape physically for the winter soldier or mentally. he said now it’s more of a head thing than it was in the beginning. the physically part was challenging for him in the beginning because he wanted to feel strong to build his confidence. he felt he couldn’t be bucky without being strong.

civil war was his real hair but when they started filming it wasn’t long enough so he had extensions. by the end of the shoot it was long enough to cut the extensions out.

the line between overtraining and not being motivated to train enough is hard for him sometimes. things tend to come all at once or not at all and it can be a struggle.

he meditates and does some kind of physical activity every day at the start of his day. it makes him able to do the things he needs to do for the rest of the day better.

he thanked everyone for their support of tfaws and “making us look pretty good.” he’s very grateful for the turnout.

don says falcon weird. that’s not important but i wanted to mention it.

running is his go to thing. he feels like it’s a good meditative thing for him. his go to pandemic workout was 100 pull ups, 100 push ups, 100 sit ups, 100 squats and alternating with running. we all panicked and were like “100 PULL UPS AT ONCE??” and he was like no no no no no no no no space that shit out during the day.

he loves breakfast but he doesn’t eat it at breakfast time. he joked he was going to eat breakfast after the call (which ended at 7PM). he likes anything with eggs and avocado.

there are still directors he wants to work with that he can’t get to see him for parts. he did three audition tapes, two in person auditions, and a screen test to get bucky.

he just recently learned what “thirst pics” are (he figured out from the chat it’s thirst traps). when someone told him that picture from the gym was a thirst trap he was like “oh great well that sounds terrible.” men’s health didn’t call him until after that pic. he had reached out to them before that but that was the thing that made them call.

“make fun of yourself. you have to not take yourself too seriously.”

they both talked about how being able to do things like this is a privilege. there are always days when seb or don or anyone walks into a gym and doesn’t want to be there.

this is the part that made me emotional as FUCK. he’s had days where he’s gone to set and been like “what the fuck am i doing?” he says every time that happens he thinks “this is the time they’re gonna realize i can’t do this. this is when they’re all gonna know i’ve never been good at this.” he said in those moments you can’t just say “no no no i’m the best.” he said sometimes affirmations work and they can be as simple as “i’m gonna try to have a good day today” and it doesn’t have to be “i have to be the best version of myself.” it can just be “i wanna have a good day today” but on the days when you don’t feel good about things and don’t know what you’re doing he said you have to go there and say “ok i don’t know what the fuck i’m doing. fuck everything.” be in the thing that’s happening to you and give yourself permission to be down for a minute. find a compromise with yourself. if you can’t run the same three miles you’ve run all week and you just don’t want to, maybe you go for a walk instead. (his example not mine i DO NOT run). when he’s been in those moments of defeat accepting it had lead him to things he didn’t plan for and he finds those moments to be gifts in a way. accepting it and saying “today is that day” your body and your mind can start moving into finding other little things to do.

he came back to pizza one more time. i love him.

he recognizes how lucky he is to have the life he has. he says it’s important to pay attention to give a fuck about things and to give a fuck about things that will help other people.

watching him talk the whole time he seemed so happy and relaxed. he seems like such a light hearted and fun person and he laughed SO much

that’s the end y’all. thanks for sticking around and reading all my hastily typed notes

#Sebastian Stan #don saladino

106 notes · View notes

yoditorian · 3 years

Text

a law divine - 1

soulmate au!ezra/reader

this is solely the fault of one single anon who called out something i put in the tags and now it’s a whole universe but you know what?? it’s the love of my life. anon i hope u see this 💛 i also just want to say i know there isn’t A Lot of soulmate talk in this one but it’s important for the narrative okay bear with me

playlist // series masterlist // main masterlist

word count: 7.2k (a Big Boy)

warnings: swearing, my usual allusions to smut bc we keep things neutral in this house, brief food/alcohol mentions, 18+ please no babies

It might be the ugliest ship you’ve ever seen.

Not that you’re really one to judge, the one you charter out when you’re running point on a job is a mismatched patchwork of rusty panels held together with electrical tape and hope. If there’s the slightest possibility you might be a teeny tiny bit disappointed in it, it’s only because agency jobs are usually a little cushier. A little safer for once. You could do with a bit safer.

Your family might prefer a lot safer, but you’d sooner take your chances in open space without a suit than take a job working scrapyards. At least risking your life on digs gets a decent payout.

“You the danger mouse?”

It’s not an accent you hear often on the Pug, the majority of the station’s population is human, but you turn with a smile to meet the bright purple eyes of the Thanne. Armour-strong scales and sharp teeth, but he seems kind and mild mannered despite his clear predatory biology. You nod as you readjust the pack on your shoulders.

“I’m Iras.” He holds his hand out to you. A distinctly human gesture made a little awkward by the sharp edged scales and extra fingers, but you shake it nonetheless. He’s your captain for this job after all. You wonder where a Thanne became so well versed in human custom, the species as a whole tend to keep to themselves instead of branching out into the universe like so many others, until his crew members appear on the boarding ramp.

Iras gestures to each of them in turn. Summer, a blonde woman with dark skin and a kind smile, and Milo, an older man with a swirling tattoo above his left eyebrow that matches the navy blue of his eyes.

“Is it just us?” You ask. You could have sworn there was a fifth name on the manifest you’d been forwarded, but teams are always subject to change. You just hope you’ll have your own room.

“Ezra always leaves things down to the wire, he’ll show up right before we’re due to push out.” Summer laughs fondly, throwing an arm around your shoulders like she’s known you her whole life. You’re usually a little wary with brand new teams but the way she’s already chatting away makes you feel at home. The last agency job you were sent on got dicey, fast, somehow you’re sure the same won’t happen with this lot.

“There he is.” Milo leans out of the ship to point out into the docks.

You turn to see a man sauntering through the throngs of harvesters towards the ship, and it’s odd. The rest of the crowd seems to melt away as he closes the distance, even the weight of Summer’s arm on your shoulders feels not quite there. You take the moment to study him. He looks all business with his dark hair and his charcoal grey shirt and the neat pack slung over his shoulder, but his pants and boots have seen better days and the streak of blonde at his temple makes you smile. It’s nice to finally be with a crew without a single stuffy addition.

“It’s not often I get to congregate with like-minded souls.” He grins when he’s in earshot, a flash of something feline in his eyes. You don’t want to admit that you like it.

“Like-minded?” You tilt your head at him as you follow Summer up the ramp and into the ship. Ezra slips in behind you just as it starts to raise. Just like the others said.

“We’ve all got the same death wish, Sunspot.”

The launch, at least, is smooth despite the beaten up ship and it’s only about twenty minutes before you’re far enough from the Pug to punch a lane to the next system over. At least it isn’t far, there’s only a day between now and making planetfall. Somehow, you’re not surprised to find that it’s more of a barracks and bunk beds situation rather than each having a private quarters. Last time you were hired by the agency, you definitely got your own room. But it gives you a chance to chat with the others as you unpack.

Milo explains the air isn’t breathable, so he’ll need to double check to make sure everyone’s filters are running at capacity. But he reassures you that it’s a comfortable temperature, so it’s good to know you won’t be sweltering in your suits or freezing your asses off.

You pick the bed on the wall beside the door, taking out a few essentials from your pack and tucking the rest safely away in the storage compartment. Just as he did back at the docks, Ezra is the last to find his way to the room. He settles his things on the bunk opposite yours because the universe has it out for you, apparently.

“Did I hear one of them call you the danger mouse?”

You struggle not to roll your eyes at the nickname awarded to anyone stupid enough to do your job, although admittedly he doesn’t sound like he knows why. You offer him your name instead and pretend the way he rolls it around in his mouth doesn’t send a shock right down to your bones. You’re not in the habit of sleeping with colleagues, not until the job’s over at least. But you’d be lying if you said you’re not tempted.

“They call me in when a site’s unstable but too profitable to close.” You answer, tugging your sleeves up as the climate control settles to a comfortable temperature.

Ezra raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue, and you pull off your gloves. They land on your thin mattress as you hold your hands out between you. Not even the slightest twitch.

“Steadiest hands on the Pug.”

“So they are.” There’s a challenge in his voice that threatens to send a shiver up your spine. It’s clear he doesn’t doubt your skill in the field, but the return of that glint in his eye from the docks has you wondering exactly what else he’s thinking about as he studies your hands. It’s not hard to work out.

It’s been so long since you had to travel out of the system, you forgot how much inter-system lanes can fuck with the human brain. You’re half asleep for the thirty minutes you spend sorting your things for the morning, barely enough energy to change into the sweatpants and ratty t-shirt you call pyjamas, before you crawl into bed and settle down almost immediately.

Only you don’t get to sleep for as long as you’d like. The rest of the crew seem to have filtered in after you, the shift of sheets and snores float through the dimmed room. Except, it’s not just that. There’s shuffling and bed creaking from further down the line of bunks. A hushed giggle sounds in the silence and-

Oh god. Oh no.

They’re not. They can’t be, they- they are.

You’re very awake all of a sudden, eyes wide as you keep them firmly on the ceiling and wishing as hard as you can for an alarm to start beeping or something. Anything to get whoever’s banging Summer to stop. A deep voice hushes her when she laughs again. Iras. Knowing is somehow worse. The mechanics- you don’t even want to think about it.

You turn onto your side slowly, but loud enough to hint that maybe they should find somewhere else for their escapades, and fold your pillow around your head as a kind of makeshift set of earmuffs. Whether they’ve quieted down or it muffles the noise, you’re not sure, but it seems to have worked enough. You catch Ezra’s eye in the almost-darkness, much in the same position as he holds his pillow over his own ears.

It’s embarrassing for the both of you, even as you share a conspiratorial look. But somehow, it’s less awkward to have to hear Iras and Summer going at it when you know he’s awake. He winces when a particularly loud squeak echoes through the room, and it takes everything in you not to bust out laughing. You fall asleep again eventually, making faces at Ezra in the dark until neither of you can keep your eyes open anymore.

You’re surprisingly well rested come the morning, when the whole ship jolts as it punches into the system and you’re almost thrown out of bed. So much so that it’s easy to forget that you woke up at all until you shuffle into the main living compartment of the ship. One of the crates by the wall has been cracked open, Milo hands out granola bars for breakfast.

Summer and Iras are sitting in the same chair, feeding each other, and it might be cute if you’d been awake longer and hadn’t been woken up by their activities in the middle of the night. You slump into a free chair, face twisted in disgust for a moment. You’re pretty sure nobody else sees until Ezra laughs and drops into the seat beside you. They’re nice people, from how they took you as a friend immediately, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s just a bit much for your perpetually single heart to take.

“It’s a week-long job, they can’t take a break?” You watch as they finally pry themselves apart to start, you know, actually working. But not without a genuinely gross kiss that definitely toes the line of public decency. Suddenly the half-eaten bar in your hand isn’t all that appealing anymore.

“Soulmates take no breaks, Sunspot. I’m sure yours would be hard pressed to be anywhere but in bed with you whenever they get the chance.” Ezra winks and it takes you a moment to remember where you are. A glance at the pair makes your new knowledge obvious, the way they seem to be touching, even now, on opposite sides of the room.

“I’m not sure I believe in all that red string stuff.”

Once the ship is safely landed a short walk from the site, the days you spend digging pass with ease. The deposit is a decent size, it takes all five of you to cover it completely, and the payout should be enough to keep you all comfortable for a little while even with the agency’s cut. The crew around you fill the time enough that you barely notice the week coming to a close.

Summer sings in the mornings as she cleans her equipment and readies her pack for the day. Miles talks gently to the cells as though they can hear him, shushing them any time he worries a gem might corrupt. Iras seems to have a secret superpower when it comes to the ration packs, they always taste better when he’s the one on lunch duty. And Ezra spends the afternoons regaling you all with tales of ancient beasts, laying eggs that fossilise into the very gems you’re harvesting. Although you’re not sure how true they are.

You almost get through the whole dig without a hitch. Almost. But aurelac is a tricky thing, even a change in the wind can turn a site for the worst. You’re all sitting around at lunch when it happens. The telltale smoke wafts up into the air for no visible reason at all and although you’ve collected enough to cover the quota, you’d still rather not lose viable gems.

“Get to what you came here for.” Iras gestures in your direction and you dive into the pit head first.

You’re not even sure you stop to think as you follow the harvesting steps at lightning speed, salvaging half the corrupted cells before someone tugs you out by the collar of your suit. The rest of the site starts to smoke the moment you’re out of range, spitting and hissing and rendering the rest of the gems worthless.

“Danger mouse indeed.” Ezra chuckles over the comm system, hand still fisted in the fabric of your suit. For once, the nickname makes you smile.

While you all go your separate ways after the ship has docked back on the Pug, Summer makes you all promise to meet later at a club you’ve only heard of in your friends’ messy night out stories. Still, you pinky swear when she holds her hand out to you and try to remember if you have a single item in your wardrobe that’ll pass as club attire. Or at least something that isn’t so worn there are holes in it.

Even if it’s a song he knows, there’s no chance that Ezra could recognise it with the volume cranked so high through the cheap speaker that everything but the beat is distorted. Still, it doesn’t stop people from dancing.

He’s a little late, as usual, but he doesn’t need to worry as Iras appears behind him and claps a hand on his shoulder, pointing to a booth across the room where Milo is looking increasingly uncomfortable.

It doesn’t take long for Ezra to spot you and Summer in the middle of the dance floor, as he follows Iras around the edge of the space to the booth Milo’s claimed. You’re both more jumping than dancing, yelling the unintelligible lyrics of the song into each other's faces. He can’t hear your breathless laughter as Summer spins you in a circle, smile wide and bright, but he can feel it in his ribs. The drums of the song kick in at the same time the swirling lights of the club light you up like some kind of celestial being, just as you catch his eye through the crowd. And everyone else disappears. The rest of the world, rest of the universe, fades into the background. Just like they did the first time he saw you, glaring suspiciously at the ship on the docks.

Summer’s dragging you back to the table when the song comes to a close, the both of you out of breath and laughing, and Ezra has to try desperately to remember how to speak when he watches a little bead of sweat slide down the side of your neck. And stop himself from just licking a line straight up it. His silent suffering only increases when Milo holds out a shot of the most potent alcohol the Pug has to offer and you down it without so much as a flinch, winking at him when you return the glass to the table for good measure.

Milo calls it a night only an hour later, clearly only having braved the crowds of the club to celebrate the job. Summer and Iras are tangled in each other on the dancefloor, or the booth, as they keep the shots coming. You, at least, decide to keep your wits about you, declining every drink after the one Milo had handed you. Nobody’s going to fuck with a Thanne, even in as seedy a club as this, so you don’t worry about Summer as she gets sloppier and sloppier. But there’s no spiky non-human boyfriend looking out for you down here, it’s just you and the knife you keep at your hip.

You pull yourself from the dance floor, eyes tracking the room for the missing member of your party, until you feel a set of eyes on you from above. Ezra’s leaning on the bannister of the stairs, his unflinching gaze set solely on you. And you can’t help but smile. You follow him up to the mezzanine without hesitation when he glances upwards and back to you. The buzz of the shot has mostly faded from your veins, replaced by something much more dangerous by the way he’s looking at you. The way he’s looked at you since you met him.

It’s not hard to spot your friends from up here, leaning over the barrier with Ezra to people watch. He crafts stories about every stranger who catches his eye. The man hunched over the bar in a beaten up jacket, the waitress who fiddles with her necklace any time her hands aren’t occupied, the pair of lovers tucked away in the dark corner on the other side of the mezzanine. You find yourself sliding closer to him the more he talks, wrapped up in the warmth of his voice even in the rundown club. Your shoulder knocks into his as you mindlessly bop to the music and listen to his made up stories. Utterly enchanted. It’s hard to remember a time when you felt this way with anybody, if you ever did at all. To tell the truth, it’s hard to remember anyone before Ezra. And neither of you have even made a move yet.

He's got his arms braced on the barrier, and you find yourself lifting the one closest to you so you can slip in between them. Surrounded on all sides and you couldn’t feel more comfortable. To his credit, he doesn’t falter in his vivid storytelling about the group now settled in the booth your crew had claimed earlier, not even a stutter as you turn in his arms to face him. He’s decided they’re here to celebrate the beginning of a new job, rather than a successful harvest. His eyes flick to you for the barest moment, enough to notice yours are firmly focused on the way his lips move around his words, before searching the club below for another story. Another way to keep his mind and mouth occupied so he doesn’t accidentally admit all the sinful things he wants to do to you when you press your ass up against him like that.

“Ezra.”

He shouldn’t be able to hear you over the music, but you’re nose to nose and he’d be hard pressed to ignore the way you practically purr his name. He’s expecting you to make another flirty comment in that voice that sends his mind reeling into all manner of indecent places the same way you have been all night.

“Can I kiss you?”

He doesn’t expect you to just outright ask him.

“Yeah.” Yeah. Hell of a time for his eloquence to fail, not that it matters anyway. You’re on him the moment he stops speaking.

It’s like the sun explodes inside him, the way his stomach bottoms out the second your lips touch his. There’s nothing soft about it, not the way he might have imagined there would be. If he’d been so bold as to let himself imagine what kissing you might be like. You’re all warmth and heat and you still taste a little bit like the shot you’d thrown back earlier, and he finds himself falling. Not that Ezra minds, he hopes his parachute never opens if it means you’ll keep kissing him like this.

You let your fingers roam under his jacket, twist themselves in the thin fabric of his t-shirt, and you sigh into his mouth. God, you knew he’d be good at this. His hands leave a trail of starlight as they trace over your body, never quite choosing a place to rest. They start to settle on your shoulders, only to skim down your arms and squeeze harshly on your waist, to play along the strip of skin he finds just underneath the hem of your shirt, to grip harder than he might mean to onto the meat of your ass through your pants. You gasp, break the kiss for barely a moment, and stop his apology in its tracks.

He doesn’t protest when you walk him backwards, still groping at each other like it’s just the two of you in the whole club. Ezra only groans when his back hits the wall and you push even closer into him, as if there was even any space left for air between your bodies already. He’s not about to complain. He could kiss you for a thousand years and it still wouldn’t be enough. It’’ll never be enough, not for a soul as hungry as his. You pull back too soon, far too soon, and it takes a solid minute for his brain to kick in and break the vice grip he still has a little too low for the public eye.

Oh, that look on your face. He’s in trouble.

“Where are you off to?” Ezra asks, flushed and breathless, a hand stretched halfway out to where you’re backing toward the stairs.

“Home,” You say with a sly smile, “You coming?”

He can’t push off the wall fast enough.

You don’t live far from the club, a ten minute walk at the most, but Ezra manages to make it a solid twenty with the way he keeps pulling you to him. Not that you’re about to complain. You’ve been waiting a week to let him get his hands on you. At the press of his lips on your neck, the shudder it sends down your spine, you wonder if part of you has been waiting even longer than that.

You’re trying, desperately, to type in the keycode to your apartment. If Ezra could calm down with the grabby hands, you might have gotten it right straight away.

“No roommates?” He asks, kissing along your shoulder, and you take the temporary reprieve to kick your brain into gear and remember the fucking numbers.

“Hugo won’t be too upset if I make him sleep on the couch.”

The door slides back into the wall to reveal a dark apartment, a strip of light from the hall falling on a very orange cat. He stares at you for a second, clearly not particularly pleased that he’s been so rudely roused from a nap, before he settles back to sleep stretched out on the couch cushions. Hugo. Ezra is silently relieved that the roommate is just a cat, he’s not sure he’s got the self control to stay quiet tonight. Or to make sure you do.

You waste no time once you gesture for Ezra to walk in ahead of you, flicking the switch on the wall to slide the door shut and pulling him back to your lips. He doesn’t hesitate to crowd you up against the cold metal.

Although you could devour each other until the closest sun explodes and swallows the station whole, Ezra has to break away. To think, to breathe, to tease you a little about the moan he just swallowed from you. But you beat him to it.

“Gotta catch your breath?” The smile on your face threatens to make his knees buckle, and with you pressed up against the closed door the way you are? He might just let them.

“What do you want, Sunspot?”

You left a lamp on in your bedroom, the door cracked just enough to let a little filter through to the main living space. Still, he’s almost completely silhouetted against the warm yellow glow. As if he’s some kind of ethereal being, maybe he is.

“Make me see the stars.” You pull him in as close as you can and let your lips brush over his as you whisper. His next words make you shudder almost as much as the way he drags the zipper of your jacket down, slowly, tooth by tooth.

“As you wish.”

And boy, does he deliver.

You’re expecting things to feel more unfamiliar than they do, as you explore each other for the first time, but it’s like you’ve been here before. Once, twice, a hundred times before. Every move feels oddly choreographed. Ezra knows exactly how to take you apart and put you back together again, the way he pulls every twitch and moan out of you so expertly. You’re no different, as your fingers map the plains of his chest like it’s muscle memory.

You shake it off, put the thoughts to the back of your mind. You’ve been around the block a little in your time on the Pug, it only makes sense that he has the same kind of experience. But shared experience or not, you can’t deny how much having him so close feels like a homecoming of sorts.

It’s the best sleep of your whole fucking life and, honestly, you’re not that surprised. Ezra makes a damn good pillow. Even if you both wake hours later into the day cycle than either of you normally would. Even if he’s more of a morning person than you are. It’s kind of nice, to sit still snuggled in your pile of blankets and watch him potter around your apartment as Hugo winds around his ankles like he’s been there for years.

Your fridge, however, is heartbreakingly empty and renders his offer of making breakfast pointless. Instead, he pulls his shirt on and offers to take you to the best little diner he knows, tucked away in the heart of the marketplace. It’s a hard offer to turn down.

“What kind of gentleman would I be to have so much income at my disposal and not treat such a beauty as yourself to a good meal?” He winks as he flashes his credit chit at you as if you didn’t scan in for your paychecks at the same time. You laugh as you empty a food pouch into Hugo’s bowl, and tell him he better show you all the good breakfast spots. You shrug off his raised eyebrow and mutters of a ‘next time’. As if he didn’t already know.

Still, Ezra takes you by the hand the moment your apartment door secures itself shut behind you, leading you through the hall and out into the street, and you’ve never felt more wanted.

It’s like everything’s brighter, walking leisurely through the bustling market stalls with Ezra. The smells are stronger as spices in the air cling to your nose, the cacophony of vendors calling out almost sounds like music, and you start to laugh. Hand in his, in the middle of the maze of stalls full of food and tools and trinkets. As if it’s just the two of you in the whole universe.

At least Ezra doesn’t look back at you like you’re crazy. He smiles too, just as big, and you feel bathed in warmth the same as when the sun comes out planetside.

You’re both still grinning when he leads you deeper through the market, down an alley and up a flight of stairs to an unassuming door.

“Is this where you murder me?” You joke just as the door opens to reveal a short older woman with an eyepatch, who pulls Ezra down into a tight hug as soon as he’s in arms reach. He introduces her as Merse, the woman who’s run the best diner no one’s ever heard of on the whole station. She slaps his arm for his cheek, but her grin grows twice as wide when she spots your intertwined hands.

Ezra pulls you through the doorway after him as he follows Merse, chatting about how she always keeps the best table open just in case he brings a friend and you try not to smile too wide when she wiggles her eyebrows at you. He says something to you, but you’re too distracted by the view from the big windows.

The far wall is completely glass, overlooking the main docks, lined with booths. A small family sits in one of them, their two children standing up on the seats to watch the ships come and go. You’ve never seen it from this angle before, always down in the masses and scanning the boards for new jobs. It’s kind of beautiful. In a rusty, patchwork sort of way.

Merse points you towards one of the booths with a promise that she’ll bring you the best breakfast you’ll ever have, something tells you she’s not lying.

It’s not long after you slide into the booth that she comes marching out of the kitchen with two plates, wafting steam that makes your mouth water and your stomach rumble. Rice and vegetables and eggs and all sorts of things you’ve never even seen pile high, and you’d worry you wouldn’t be able to finish it all if you weren’t so hungry.

“You know I won’t break, right?” You push your fork around in the remaining rice on your plate as you watch Ezra absorb your words. He thinks about it for a long moment, dark eyes over you before settling on your own.

“What’s this about?” He knows, you know he knows. More importantly, you know he’s going to make you say it. In the middle of the day cycle, in this family friendly diner.

“Just,” You exhale sharply, “Making sure you’re aware.” Your body floods with a shyness that’s alien compared to the confidence you had last night and suddenly, your breakfast is the most interesting thing on the Pug. You can practically feel him smiling at you, but you don’t dare look up to meet it.

He was right though, the food really is some of the best you’ve ever had.

It’s not until you’ve wandered back through the market, still hand in hand, and found your way back to your apartment that Ezra decides to bring it up. He may have been more than a little distracted last night, but he’s sure he spotted a set of old books sitting on a shelf above your couch. You freeze, ready to go on the defensive about how ink and paper will never be obsolete, until you realise he’s genuinely interested. He’s not judging you by any means. Something about the curiosity shining in his eyes makes your heart flutter more than you care to admit.

He could watch you talk about your books all day, every day, for the rest of his life. How your eyes lit up when you recognised his interest, a paperback lover himself. You can’t seem to stop yourself as you dive into the intricate details of your favourite classics, two or three hundred year old texts that make you feel like you’ve lived a thousand different lives at once. He wants so badly for you to keep talking but the more impassioned you become, the more he wants to kiss you.

You trail off at some point, he loses track when you climb into his lap to point out notes you’ve made in margins and the books lie scattered on the couch beside you as you kiss him until neither of you can breathe. You’re still a little achy from last night, deep in your bones, and you hiss when his teeth scrape across your shoulder.

“Won’t break, is that right?” Ezra chuckles darkly and nips at your jaw, “Can I try?”

“Please.”

You wake at the creak of your bedroom door, sometime in the early hours. Hugo noses his way through the narrow gap and hops up onto the bed, curling up on the unclaimed pillow by your head. Ezra sleeps deeply, face buried in your neck, and you let the warmth of him wash over you. It ebbs and flows like a tide, that familiarity. The undeniable fact that something about this just feels right. You’ve known this man a week and yet you’re here wondering, as he rests in your arms, if he might want more than just this with you.

Oh, but you are so afraid. Afraid to put a name to anything about him because what then? Will he tell you that you’re simply a placeholder in his life for something better, or that his heart might bleed through his skin when you’re apart? You’re not sure which is worse. Not that it matters, there is no word in any language that would be able to explain exactly how you feel about the man asleep in your arms. It’s enough, you think, to have him with you at all. In any capacity. Whatever pieces of his soul he bares as your breathing evens and his mind wanders. That is enough, and you will protect it with your life.

You have to part ways at some point, of course. Another week of rolling around in your bed sheets together, on the couch, on your pitiful kitchen counter, up against the wall, and Ezra gets a call from the agency. It’s a last minute job, the crew only need an extra set of hands to fit the safety standards, but it’s several systems out from the Pug. It’ll take him away for at least a month. You trail after him at the docks, with promises of messages in his absence and all manner of unsavoury activities on his return. It’s with a deep kiss and a wolf whistle from a couple of dock workers on their break, that you wish him luck. And ask him to hurry back.

Summer’s message surprises you when it dings through on your tablet. Some gajillionaire on Dallore T53 has found an aurelac deposit on the grounds of his new estate and wants it gone. She’s preoccupied, already out on another dig with Iras and a new crew. But it’s the kindness of her even thinking to offer it to you that makes your heart swell. It’s been a while since you’ve had real, honest to god, friends.

You’d go in alone, normally, for something like this. But now? Now, you’re punching in Ezra’s comm pin before you can even really register what it is that you’re doing. He only got back a week ago, and you made him settle in back home before he could settle in yours. It’s not like the two of you would be doing any resting on his return to your apartment, exactly. The job was a pain, he’d told you, it ran months longer than anyone expected and you’re sure he’s still exhausted. He won’t agree, but you find you have to ask. Just in case.

“Sunspot?” He sounds happy, rested. And you breathe a sigh of relief, at least he can follow your orders when he wants to.

Hugo snakes around your ankles at the familiar voice, the same way he does any time the man himself walks through the door. If you didn’t know that the little orange devil’s alliances lie in who feeds him, you might think he loves him more than you.

You explain about the job, make sure to stress that he doesn’t have to come. That you don’t even really need to take it if he’d rather you stay close by. Okay, you don’t say that out loud, but the smile you hear in his words through the speaker makes it known that he’s heard you. Loud and clear.

It doesn’t matter in the end, not when he accepts before you even have a chance to give him any details. You don’t know why you were so worried he might say no.

“Any excuse to be warmed by your light, Sunspot.” Hugo brushes up against your leg at the same time Ezra’s voice practically drips through the speaker, smooth as honey.

“Is that a euphemism?”

“Do you want it to be?”

You choke on your breath and he laughs like you’ve told the funniest joke in the universe. He’ll kill you one of these days, you’re sure of it.

You charter the ship you usually take on private jobs, the space a little smaller than you remember with another person on board, but it’s not like either of you aren’t used to being in close quarters with each other by now. At least Ezra has the decency not to be mean about the beaten up exterior, she still flies true. He’d grinned at that, told you how a rough outside often means the opposite of the interior mechanics. The glint in his eye is enough to know he’s not just talking about the ship.

At least the planet is in the same system as the Pug, so there’s no need to punch through to a lane. You fly in silence for a few hours, the familiar feel of the controls under your fingers as you guide it through the sky. Ezra’s eyes remain firmly on you although you pretend as though you don’t notice, and it takes him a moment to come back to the present when you ask him to flick a few switches and prepare to enter the atmosphere.

The coordinates the client gave you to land are only a short walk from the house itself, a great stone castle-looking thing. It’s kind of ugly, the way the limestone juts out above the treeline. A big white block among the rich reds and oranges of the leaves. They grow that colour all year round, perpetually stuck in spring and summer. It must be nice to have the kind of money to find somewhere like that and decide you’ll build a house there. The air is breathable, and a quick look at the planet file proves it’s never too hot or too cold. A perfect place to build a house really. Although, if it were you making that kind of decision, you’d maybe go for a design that’s a little less cubist.

The deposit isn’t huge, but it’ll be a good payout nonetheless providing the cells are all in good nick. You and Ezra wade through swathes of long grass and wildflowers until you find a spot to set up camp. At least you’re not stuck in bulky suits and having to lug around your equipment.

You couldn’t have asked for a more perfect dig if you’d tried. Each of the cells sit far enough away from each other that even if one were to fail, it wouldn’t corrupt a whole mess of the others. Although with both of your talents, it doesn’t surprise you when you collect every last crystal without a single misstep.

You’d told Ezra the profit would be split down the middle, equal pay for equal work. But it doesn’t stop him from sliding an extra gem into your pack to cover the ship charter. After all, you’re the one who was offered the job in the first place. He’s just following his heart, the one that walks around outside of his body and throws itself into deposits mid-corruption.

You hold one of the little gems aloft in the sunlight and watch as it sparkles.

“I used to think it was weird how rabid people go for these. But the more I dig the more I get it, isn’t it the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?”

Ezra tilts his head like he’s studying the rock, but his dark eyes don’t leave yours.

“It’s a close second.”

Sap.

Night falls before either of you realise just how late it is, clearing out the last few cells of the deposit. It’s not worth going back to the Pug now, he reasons, and you find it hard to disagree. The ache of the few days you’ve spent digging has settled deep in your muscles, the thought of having to run through docking procedure when you’re so tired is enough to make you wince.

You let him take you for all you’re worth under the watchful eye of the heavens, and find there’s more stars behind your eyelids than you could ever hope to see in the skies. It’s all you can do to cry out the name of the only god to ever make you feel this holy. Ezra.

He wakes with the sun, the same way he always has on jobs, to find you curled so tightly against him that it bubbles up from his toes all the way to his throat and he finds his eyes threatening to spill over. Everything in the universe seems to slot so perfectly together when you’re like this. Ezra sighs, content to never let the moment end. You are so beautiful.

He shifts up onto his elbow a little, still cradling you against him, and lets his free hand trail softly over your face. Tracing the shell of your ear, the curve of your cheekbone, the bridge of your nose. The dawn’s sunlight breaks over the trees and filters through the fabric of the tent, bathing you in soft green light. He could stay here, holding you, until the universe implodes. Ezra doubts he’d notice such an insignificant thing with you beside him.

But end it must, and he rouses you gently with soft whispers and kisses against your temple. You stretch in his arms, not unlike Hugo, and sigh as your joints pop and settle. Packing up happens slowly, moving around each other so naturally it’s as though you’ve done it a thousand times before. Every time Ezra passes, you drop a kiss wherever you can reach. His shoulder, the arm of his jacket, that little patch on his jaw. He pretends not to blush when you catch his hand and carefully press your lips to the little tattoo between his thumb and index finger, you pretend not to notice when he does.

You’ll be the death of him, he’s sure of it. The way you keep watching him out of the corner of your eye, the way your smile is so bright when he catches you that he can barely stand to look at it. With the tent and equipment packed up, his fingers itch to thread through your own as you start the walk back to the ship, there’s not a word in the universe strong enough to describe just how much he hates that both his and your hands are too full.

It’s odd, thinking about it. How you met by pure chance, hired by the agency just because you were on the same station at the same time. Would he have ever met you if you’d chosen a different career path, if he had? Maybe somewhere, centuries before or after this moment, where you’re meeting again. Different lives, different times, spanning across all of existence. Maybe, right here and now, you’re starting to feel the way he does about you. Just a little. Maybe he’ll get up the courage to ask what you think, how far you want to take things. He’d give himself to you in a heartbeat, without question. In a way, he already has.

Ezra can’t stop himself.

“What do you make of the red string of fate?”

“All you’ve seen of the universe and you still believe in soulmates?”

“Maybe I’m more foolish that I made myself out to be.” He shrugs, trying not to let his eyes fall to the little finger of his right hand. Trying not to clench his fist to show you exactly how much your disbelief affects him down to his bones, as though his soul itself is frowning. You’re smiling. Uncharacteristically quiet, but you seem appropriately pleased by his answer and stray a little further out into the long grass.

Curiosity gets the better of you.

“Can you see yours?” You have to call out across the gap you’ve unintentionally created, yellow stalks swishing in the breeze between you, and for a moment you’re not sure he heard.

Ezra looks at his right hand, at the thin red string tied neatly at the knuckle of his little finger, and follows the line as it threads through the grass to where it’s knotted at your left.

“No.”

TAGLIST (add yourself here):

@bee-dameron @keeper0fthestars @thevoiceinyourheadx @firstofficerwiggles @1800-fight-me @ew-erin @chatterbean @gotta-have-faye @freeshavocadoooo @darnitdraco @greeneyedblondie44 @fire-is-catching-always

#oh god here it is i hope it lives up to what i've made it out to be #a law divine #prospect (2019)#ezra (prospect)#ezra x reader #ezra x you #liz does words #soulmate au #smut

119 notes · View notes

love-and-monsters · 3 years

Text

Cavern and Foe

M elf X GN reader, 8,276 words.

After coming across a sworn enemy and shooting him, you both fall into an underground cavern. The only way out is to work together. If, of course, you can manage it.

You unfurled yourself from your hunting crouch and headed a few steps further into the forest. It was unnaturally quiet in the dusk, and you could feel your stomach grinding hungrily against your ribs- it had been hours since your last meal at dawn, but you still hadn’t managed to catch anything. The only animal you had managed to hit with your arrow had been a deer, and that had only been in the flank. Generally, your ritehood was not going well.

It would be another week and a half before you were allowed back in your village. Hunting wasn’t strictly necessary for the ritehood; there were plenty of people before you who had survived on a diet of plants alone, whether by choice or necessity. But an unwillingness or inability to bring down prey did preclude you from your chosen profession.

You wanted to be a warrior. And that meant proving that you were strong and skilled enough to become one.

Something rustled the undergrowth behind you. You shifted your weight, turning your body toward the noise without making any of your own. With only the smallest, most delicate motions, you removed an arrow from your quiver and threaded it. There were precious few of them left- you were going to need to make this shot count.

The rustling moved closer to you. You squinted through the woods, trying to make out the shape moving between the trees. It was tall. Perhaps a bear? Taking down one of those would surely confirm your path as a warrior. But it would have to be fairly young to be so quiet- bears were usually much heavier.

You caught a glimpse of tanned skin through the trees and loosed your arrow. It plunged straight and true into the flesh of your target.

The scream that went up made your hair stand on end. It was full of raw agony, a nearly human scream, but with a razor-sharp edge that made it sound a little like a wildcat’s. Your heart leapt. A cougar, perhaps? That would earn you a warrior position, surely. Barely breathing, you plunged through the woods toward your target.

What you saw made you stumble to a graceless stop.

It looked almost like a person, wearing off-white robes with an embroidered neckline. From its head, poking through its black hair, rose a crown of short, bone white horns. Its ears were long and pointed, extending almost past the back of its head.

An elf. You whipped out your bow and pointed an arrow at its throat. An elf. With its head, you would be the most respected member of your town. You could be a warrior, if you wanted; you would probably be given a high-ranking position right off the bat. Who would deny you, after you had killed one of your people’s greatest enemies?

The victory was already singing sweet inside your head, so you were too distracted to notice the elf’s tail whipping across the ground. It hooked your ankle with a surprisingly strong grip for its thin size and yanked.

Your feet went from underneath you. Only barely did you manage to catch yourself on your elbows, and by the point, the elf was on his feet, sprinting back into the forest.

Rage flashed through you. In seconds, you were on your feet, plunging after him. You could see him darting between trees and scrambling through the undergrowth. Bright spots of blood stood out against the deep green of the forest, guiding you after him.

He was slowing down, stumbling more and more. The splotches of blood were growing bigger- running seemed to be making the injury worse. You were right behind him, gaining on him with every step. Without breaking your stride, you pulled your bow off your back and nocked an arrow. You trained your sight on him. All you needed to do was get one good hit- just one.

And, before you could blink, he dropped out of sight.

Confused, you staggered, trying to kill your momentum. Where had he-

And then you pitched into the same pit he’d fallen down.

You felt yourself hit the ground in slow motion. One of your arms twisted underneath you. There was a split second of stomach-turning horror where you heard and felt your bone crunch as you landed on it. Then there was one second of nothing.

And then the pain hit you.

Agony. You couldn’t move your arm. You couldn’t fathom moving it. There was nothing to move. Your arm was nothing more than a white-hot blaze of pain. It made your stomach churn with the awfulness of it and you rolled onto your belly so you could vomit. Sobs and dry heaves mingled together, leaving your body convulsing and trembling.

Time lost all meaning for a while, but eventually, you got used to the pain. It was still there, but you were able to take one small part of your brain away from screaming in agony and figure out what was happening.

You were in some kind of small cave. The hole you had fallen through was distant above you, far enough away that you could blot it out with the palm of your hand. The room curved upward, like an inverted bowl. It was only the size of a small room, perhaps ten feet across. Sitting across the room, glaring at you, was the elf you had just been chasing.

There was a long, awkward silence. He was clutching at his shoulder, blood pumping slowly down his front. You moved instinctively for your bow, but froze when you touched it- it had been smashed upon landing, no more than splinters and string. Not that it mattered- you weren’t shooting one handed. With your good hand, you fumbled for your knife, but you weren’t excited about your chances- the broken arm was your strong arm, and you were pretty sure that even injured, he would be able to wrestle the knife away from you.

“It would seem we are at a stalemate,” the elf said. His voice was slightly accented and rather soft. “You cannot kill me, I have no desire to kill you, and we are not getting out of here any time soon.”

You glared at him from across the room, as much as you could manage. It was hard to stop your expression from twisting into a grimace of pain. “Maybe you’re giving up. I’m going to climb out.”

The elf somehow managed to make an eyebrow raise look sarcastic, but he said nothing else. Cradling your broken arm, you examined the wall. Unfortunately, the hole you had fallen through appeared to be roughly at the apex of a dome. Attempting to scale it would mean pretty big sections where you hung nearly upside down, a feat that would be difficult with two functional arms. With only one still working, it was nearly impossible.

That didn’t mean you weren’t going to give it a try. There were a few rocks that jutted out from the wall, creating solid footholds. You braced your good arm against the wall and started to climb.

Your fingers slipped from the stone when you were only couple of feet above the ground. You struck the ground hard, knocking the wind out of your lungs. For a moment, you just lay there, gasping and choking as pain radiated up your broken arm.

It took a few minutes for you to be able to sit up and you risked a glance at your broken arm. You had been avoiding looking at it, mostly out of fear.

Your stomach twisted as you looked at it. The bone had shifted against your skin. It hadn’t broken through, but you could see the unsettling jut of it, twisting the shape of your arm. It took several deep breaths and staring determinedly at the ground before you could settle your stomach.

“You’ll need to set that.” The elf sound smug. “It’ll be useless until then, and worse than useless if it heals like this.”

You looked down at your arm again. Experimentally, you probed it with your fingertips. The pain was bad enough that your vision hazed over for a moment, leaving you trembling and gasping on the ground.

When you came back to yourself, the elf was tearing strips of his toga apart. He wound the strips around the gash in his shoulder, tying it off. The movement of the arm seemed limited, but it was leagues better than yours. He paced slowly along his side of the room, resting his fingers against the wall. You followed the motion of his tail. His expression was smooth and unperturbed, but his tail whipped and coiled behind him, twining close to his legs.

Time slipped by with agonizing slowness. You could only tell it was passing because the light filtering into the cave was gradually growing dimmer. Your stomach growled, adding its own complaint to the aches and pains you were already feeling. You had been trying not to move, since that only seemed to aggravate your broken arm, but finally, driven by your groaning stomach, you shifted to look for your pack.

The elf watched you as you grabbed for your bag. It was small, but it contained a few days’ worth of rations. Looking at them made your nerves flare. There wasn’t enough to last you until your arm healed, and even if it had, you weren’t sure it was going to help. Your arm was not healing properly without being set, and every tiny touch made a nauseating wave of pain roll through you. You weren’t setting it on your own, and if your arm wasn’t set, you weren’t climbing out. Starvation was inevitable. It was only a matter of time.

Your stomach growled and you reached fumblingly for the food with your non-dominant hand. Fuck it. Might as well eat. Nothing would be solved by going hungry. You ripped into one of the strips of dried meat. Ugh. If it was going to be your last meal, you really wished it could have been something that tasted better.

“You have food?” The elf had gone still on the other side of the cave. One of his arms was pressed to his middle, like he was trying to massage away hunger pains. He was staring fixedly at you. In the dim light of the cave, his cheeks looked sallow and his eyes, sunken. Was he starving? You pulled the food bag tighter against your chest. Would you be able to hold him off if he decided to charge? He seemed to be thinking the same thing, eyes flicking over you. You might be able to get a few good kicks in, and if you got a lucky shot on his injury, you could probably incapacitate him. But he could easily incapacitate you, too. It was all up to luck. And neither of you were willing to take that chance.

The tension went out of him after a moment and he slumped against the wall, still staring at your bag. Your eyes drifted to the tight bandage at his shoulder. “Do you know how to set a broken bone?” you asked.

He looked at you cautiously. “I am aware of how to do it. I’ve never actually done it, though.”

“I’ll cut you a deal,” you said. “Set my arm and I’ll give you something to eat.”

His eyes drifted from your bag to you, then back to the bag. “And how are you going to stop me from twisting your arm and stealing the bag?” he asked.

“I’ve still got my knife on me,” you said, indicating the blade at your hip. “If you reach for the bag, I’ll have just enough time to gut you before you grab it.”

He eyed the knife. “And how do I know you’re not going to try to stab me the second I get within range?”

“Because then I’m not getting out of here either. I need my arm set. And you need to eat. We both need this. I’m not going to be stupid about this if you’re not.” The elf looked at you for a moment, weighing his options, then nodded.

He approached you slowly, eyes scanning your every move. You held as still as possible, keeping your hands low and nonthreatening. When he reached you, he crouched at your side, turning his body away from you. It was clear he was trying to keep any vulnerable points away from you.

His hands brushed your arm and you gave a strangled groan. “Usually, you’d set it with some sort of stick or piece of wood to keep the bone straight as it heals,” the elf said. “But I don’t have any of that.”

You glanced around. Your bow had chunks of wood that were as long as your forearm, but they were all curved. “Arrows,” you said. “I have a couple. Will those work?”

The elf lifted your quiver and slid one of the arrows free. He examined it for a moment, then deftly snapped off the tip and dropped it on the ground. You grimaced. The elf ripped at the hem of his clothes, tearing off another long strip of fabric. When he had a long enough chunk, he lay the fabric and arrow together and took your arm in his hands. Despite everything, his touch was soft and gentle, barely brushing your skin.

“The bone is out of place. I’ll have to shift it back in,” he said. “I can’t guarantee it’ll heal perfectly.”

“I’m good with good enough,” you said. You turned your head away. Looking at your arm was starting to make you feel sick. “Just go for it.”

“Hold on.” He reached down and seized another arrow. After snapping off the tip again, he pressed the body of the arrow to your lips. “Bite on it. It’ll hurt.”

You seized the arrow in your teeth. He nodded and looked back down at your arm. “All right. Three… t-” He hadn’t even finished saying two before he was pressing on your broken arm.

Your vision went white. Agony blazed through your brain. You couldn’t think. Distantly, you thought you could hear someone screaming. There was the vague sense that you were thrashing around. But you couldn’t be sure. The pain commanded all of your attention.

Slowly, the pain diminished. It didn’t go away, but you started being able to have coherent thoughts around it. You were lying down, sweat soaking into the dirt. Fine tremors ran over your body. The elf was sitting over you, looking ruffled.

“You kicked me,” he said. His voice was winded and, as your senses returned, you realized he was clutching his side.

“Sorry,” you said. Your voice was raspy and your throat protested even the simple aspect of talking. You’d said it reflexively, but to your surprise, you realized you were actually sorry. Genuinely, you hadn’t meant to hurt him. “You could, uh, kick me back.” It was a stupid thing to say, but you had said it so often to your siblings that it was nearly automatic. To your surprise, the elf laughed.

“I won’t.” He let out a slow breath. “Don’t move your arm. It’s bound, but it’s not stable. Arrows aren’t the best for splinting.”

Your arm was still throbbing bad enough to make your stomach turn, but you had enough wherewithal to turn and grab your bag. “Here,” you said, thrusting it at him. “Take some.”

He looked at you cautiously, then reached into the bag and started rummaging through your food. It would have been easy for him to drag the entire bag away from you. There was no way you were in enough of a shape to stop him. Instead, he pulled out a tied-off bag of dried fruit and laid the bag back at your feet. Transaction concluded, he retreated to his side of the cave.

It was rapidly getting darker in the cave. The sun was setting, and any light that you once had was fading. You shivered. The cave was chilly. Usually, you managed nights in the woods with a fire, but there was no wood and you weren’t quite desperate enough to sacrifice your clothes. Instead, you lay back on the dirt ground and did your best to cover your body with a coat. Shivering sucked. It made your arm ache even worse. Gradually, the cave dimmed into pitch blackness.

Despite your exhaustion, sleep refused to come. The sickening pain of your broken arm notwithstanding, every noise from across the cave made your eyes snap open again. Could he see you? There were rumors about elves having dark vision. If you fell asleep, it would be simple for him to steal your knife and slit your throat.

Your paranoia kept you from engaging in any but the lightest of sleep. The slightest sound brought you back to full wakefulness, and you never really lost consciousness. You only drifted in the dim, dreamy area between wakefulness and sleep.

Morning came to find you stiff, exhausted, and in a worse mood than you had been in the night. The pain in your arm was more insistent, a constant throbbing that shoved its way to the forefront of your mind. The elf appeared to be in only moderately better shape. He was holding his arm in a strange way, suggesting that his own wound had stiffened overnight, though he looked better rested.

Slowly and uncomfortably, you pushed yourself into a sitting position. The elf watched you, caution in every line of his body. You ignored him, instead scrounging in your bag for breakfast. Rationing was probably a good idea, so despite your weakness, you only ate a few strips of dried meat and a piece of hard biscuit. It barely filled the aching void of your stomach. Trying to distract yourself, you started fussing with the bandages on your arm.

“What do you think you’re doing, idiot?” the elf hissed at you. You paused, looking up at him. He had shifted closer to glare at you. “I went to all that trouble to bind your arm and you’re just screwing it up!”

Irritation flared in your chest. “I am not screwing it up! I’m making it tighter!”

He snorted. “Sure. Just don’t expect me to rebind it again when it comes apart. I’m not looking to get injured by you again.”

The anger grew brighter and hotter. Frustration at being trapped, injured, and afraid spilled over. “If you hadn’t been trespassing in the first place, I wouldn’t have shot at you! What were you doing on our land?” It felt good to vent your spleen on someone.

“Your land?” the elf snarled back. “You can’t own land! Just like a human, to think you can come in here and take whatever you want-”

“We take whatever we want?” Your voice echoed in the small space of the cave. “You stole our crops! But sure, act all high and mighty because we like to make sure our own people get fed-”

“You can’t steal a living creature! What lives belongs to the land and the land is for all! Only a human would want to possess everything!” The elf stormed toward you, jabbing a finger toward your chest.

“Only an elf would claim the moral high ground while stealing food from the mouths of our children!” You rose to meet him, faces inches apart. His features were as delicate as any elf’s beautiful even when twisted in rage. The constant ache of your arm only spurred your anger further.

“We did no such thing! If you have not sustained the land so that it will sustain you, then you only have yourselves to blame,” the elf sniffed. Red haze clouded your vision.

“How dare you! All you elves claim to be so pure and noble, but you’re all just a bunch of smug bastards, lording your superiority over everyone else! I bet if your people had to fight starvation off by tooth and nail every year, you wouldn’t be so damn high and mighty!”

“At least we’re not the ones shooting any human on sight! We’re not a bunch of savage murderers!”

“We can’t trust you not to take our stuff! It’s either that or you rob us blind and we’ll die as surely as if you slit our throats!” You had pushed each other to the middle of the cave, right under the single shaft of sunlight. Your voices echoed off the walls, filling the space with overlapping noise.

“And of course, your first instinct as a human is violence! You couldn’t negotiate to save your stupid hide!” The elf leaned over you, his face barely apart from yours. “All you know is how to shoot and ki-”

Something underneath you groaned. The ground shifted, buckling under the elf’s feet. He wobbled. Directly beneath him, the floor of the cave shuddered. You backed away, skittering toward the wall. The cave floor was unstable. Perhaps it hadn’t been able to take the weight of the two of you standing together. Perhaps your voices had been loud enough to shake something loose. Or perhaps it was just the last straw on the camel’s back.

You saw a look of undisguised terror on the elf’s face as the floor on his side of the cave crumbled away.

It was pure instinct on your part. Perhaps it would have said more to your character if it hadn’t been, if you had made the conscious decision to save an enemy. But it wasn’t. You just saw his look of fear as he went down and lunged to catch him.

Your good hand caught one of his. For a horrifying moment, he kept going, fingers sliding through yours. Just in time, his other hand snapped up and caught your wrist. His fingers were slick with sweat, but he managed to hold on.

You groaned. You weren’t quite lying on top of it, but the position you were in was putting your weight onto your bad arm. It took all your strength to just hold onto him. There was no way you were going to be able to pull him back up and if this went on, he was going to pull you over the edge too. But you couldn’t let go. You couldn’t let him fall.

His legs scrambled at the crumbling ledge beneath him. “I can’t pull you up,” you said. “Can you try to climb out?”

“I’m trying!” He pulled on your arm, trying to climb you like a rope. You kicked your legs furiously, trying to find something to anchor yourself with.

One of your feet caught on a chunk of stone. You wrapped your legs around it, hooking your foot around your ankle. Slowly, sick with the agonizing pain in your arm, you pulled yourself away from the ledge.

He scrambled up onto solid ground as soon as he could grip the ledge. Both of you scurried away from the edge of the pit, huddling together against the wall. Now that your adrenaline was fading, the pain in your arm was crawling to new levels. You must have done something to it when you lunged for him. Cautiously, you probed the bone through the bandage. A coil of pain kicked you straight in the stomach. You rolled over and vomited bile over the ground.

When you were done, you sat back up, back pressed to the wall. Your skin was clammy and fine tremors wracked your frame.

Slowly, you turned your head to look at the elf. He was pressed against the wall, smudged with dirt and a few smears of blood. His eyes were focused on you, wide as saucers. “You saved my life.”

You spat a bit of stomach acid onto the dirt. “Yeah. So, I guess it’s all evened out now, huh? Maybe you can stop yelling at me for almost killing you.”

He blinked at you. “No, I mean- why did you save me? If you wanted me dead, there was no better chance than that one.”

“I don’t know,” you said. “I don’t know why I saved you. I wasn’t thinking. I just saw that you were scared and- I don’t know. It’s one thing to attack a trespasser. It’s another to just… let someone die.”

The elf stared at you for a moment, the whites of his eyes bright against the dirty background of the cave. “Your arm,” he finally said, “is it… okay?”

You didn’t want to look at it. “I don’t know.”

“Sit back against the cave wall,” the elf said, waving his hand toward you. He crawled over to you, settling next to your injured arm. You turned your head away. “I’m going to unbind it. Please try not to kick me again.”

“No promises,” you said, trying to smile through your gritted teeth. You thought you caught a quiet huff of laughter as he bent over you.

Cold fingers delicately unwrapped the cloth bandages and removed the splint. The elf sucked in a sharp breath. Your stomach dropped. “That bad?”

“Um,” the elf said. “You sort of lay on top of it when you grabbed for me, right? I think you, um. I think you pushed the bone a little further out of alignment.” He inhaled and exhaled slowly. There was a measure of unsteadiness to it. “It’s hard to see down here, so maybe it’s not as bad as it looks.”

“How bad does it look?” you asked.

The elf grimaced. “It’s… swelling. And the bruises are bad. And the bone’s out of place again.”

“Fix it,” you said. “You shoved the bone back in place before, do it again.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I can stabilize it, but you’ve jostled it more out of place than it was before. I don’t want to risk damaging anything else.”

You leaned your head back against the wall. “Just do what you can.”

He at least attempted for gentleness this time, but you still had to grit your teeth against the sheer awfulness of the pain. His fingers were nimble, and the warmth of his body against yours was almost comforting. When he leaned away from you, you found yourself missing the contact.

The elf was apparently reluctant to part as well, because even after he finished with your arm, he stayed next to you, close enough that your shoulders brushed. “We need to get out of here,” he said.

“Yes. We established that already. The problem is how,” you said. “I can’t climb out of here even without a broken arm, and unless you’re hiding some impressive wall-scaling abilities, you can’t either.”

Something tapped against your side. You looked down to see the elf’s tail twisting and coiling on the ground. Occasionally, the fluffy tip would hit you, though it seemed to be more incidental than intentional. “No, I can’t. Especially not with an arrow wound.” He moved a hand over it absently. “But there has to be a way out.” He got up and started pacing along the wall, touching it with his palm. His tail waved behind him, swinging from side to side.

“Maybe,” you said, unconvinced. “Or maybe not.”

He fumbled along the wall for a few minutes, before lashing out with a kick. “Dammit! The floor crumbled so damn easy, why won’t these walls?”

He kicked the wall again and again, sending tiny stones skittering across the floor. You watched, wide eyed. The elf slammed a particularly hard kick into the wall and yelped, then started hopping around, clutching his foot. He slumped to the ground, mumbling and cursing.

“You all right?” you asked.

“Just bruised,” he groused. “Sorry. I get grouchy when I’m hungry.”

“We’ve got some more supplies,” you said, nudging the bag closer to him. He snorted, pushing the bag back over to you.

“Not that kind of hungry. There’s no light down here, except that tiny little patch.” He pointed up to the distant hole in the ceiling. The direct sunlight filtered down into the gaping hole in the ground. “I’ve been trying to meditate, but it’s just not effective without the sun. It’s making my skin crawl.” He gave an affected shudder before glancing at you. “How are you managing it? You’ve barely been affected by night-sickness at all.”

You stared at him. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about?”

The elf looked back at you with a similarly confused expression. “Night-sickness. Do humans call it something different? You know, when you haven’t done your light meditation for too long?” You shook your head. “Do you have totally different words for all of it? Look, how do you process the light from the sun into energy?”

“How do we- what?” You were staring to get frustrated. “You’re not making any sense. We don’t convert light into energy or whatever.”

“Then how do you get energy?” the elf said. He sounded well and truly bewildered, like the very idea was completely unheard of.

“We eat food? You know what eating food it. I’ve seen you eat.” Several expressions flitted across the elf’s face, from confusion to surprise to something like guilt.

“You only eat food?” he asked. You nodded. “Ah. That, er. Explains some things.”

“What does it explain?” you asked. “And what do you mean we only eat food? What else would we eat? Rocks?”

The elf chuckled weakly. “Then you would be a lot better position down here. No. Elves need sunlight. Without it, we get sick, and we can die. Food is still necessary, but we don’t need much. We have maybe one meal a day and we meditate to gain our energy other times.” His tail hooked around his chest, curling and twitching. “We can eat more food, but it’s… wasteful, I suppose. Or maybe overly indulgent.”

Several ideas were dawning upon you in the same moment. “That’s why elves don’t have farms. You don’t need them. You don’t eat much, so you can afford to just forage every now and then and gather what you want. Human farms must look greedy to you.”

“It did come across as a little…” He made a vague hand gesture. “A little gluttonous, perhaps. To have so much food and to be so possessive over it felt like an overreaction.”

“But we need it,” you said. “We got dangerously close to famine last winter.”

The elf shrank back. “We didn’t know! We don’t grow our own food! I mean, it’s not fun to go without food, but we can live. The idea of planting and growing living things that only you can harvest is just weird! You plant things because you like seeing things grow and get healthier, not because you have to.”

You kneaded at your forehead. “Are you telling me the war between our species for years has been because we didn’t know you guys eat sunlight?”

“We don’t eat sunlight,” the elf said. “It’s more of an energy transfer process. And you could have asked.”

“You could have asked before stealing our food!”

“We didn’t know it was stealing!” The elf had drawn closer to you as you were talking, and you were suddenly overly aware of how close you were. You could feel the heat of his body against yours. A wave of buzzing heat spread over your body from the pit of your stomach. Your eyes were unsettlingly drawn to his lips. His upper lip was fuller than his bottom one. Your mind wandered, almost casually, over to how it would feel to kiss the upper lips, to explore it with your teeth-

“Okay, get off me!” You struggled away from him. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but you thought there was a red flush staining his cheekbones. “It doesn’t matter how this whole thing started. Maybe, if we can tell people that this whole thing started with a misunderstanding, we can get them to end it. Or at least stop being so belligerently violent toward each other.”

The elf glanced at his injured shoulder. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try. But, uh. We’re still kind of trapped. We’re not going to be stopping a war if the only thing people find are our skeletons.”

“Which means we need to find a way out of here,” you said. You stood up, your legs wobbling. You hadn’t realized exactly how tired you were. Apparently falling into a pit, breaking your arm, and then rescuing the guy you had previously tried to kill was an exhausting process.

The elf stepped closer to you, eyeing you like he was worried you were going to fall over. “I looked around. I didn’t see anything.”

“Might as well give it another pass,” you said. “Not like we’ve got that much else to do.” You started to pace along the wall, trying to feel for any weak points that might lead to a tunnel. The elf stayed by your side, tail flicking around your ankles.

No matter how closely you examined the walls, they never became anything other than solid stone. “There isn’t a way out,” the elf said. He was starting to look despondent, slumping against the wall. “I’m going to die down here.”

“No one’s going to die down here any time soon,” you said. “We just need to figure out a way out of here! There must be one.”

“Or the only way out is the same way we fell in, which we can’t get to.” He watched as you kicked at the wall some more. “Don’t bother. It’s not going to work. If I couldn’t get out, you’re not going to do it.”

“Don’t be an asshole. Do people let you get away with this all the time at your home just because you’ve got a pretty face?” you snapped, then realized what you’d said. The elf, apparently unable to believe his ears, stared back at you.

“Er- what?”

“Never mind! I wasn’t thinking. It’s the pain. It’s making me loopy.” You gave another kick toward the wall. It remained as solid as ever. “Fuck!”

The elf stood back up. “Kicking solid rock isn’t going to help. You’re so stubborn. Are all humans like that?”

“Well, we don’t all give up like elves do, apparently,” you snorted.

“You waste your energy with fruitless endeavors instead,” the elf replied. He walked over to you, examining the wall. He still managed to have the refined air of an elf, even after spending a while at the bottom of a cave. “It’s not going to collapse.”

You staggered back from the wall. Your leg ached and the wall had suffered absolutely no damage. “Well, we can’t just stand here and do nothing.” You paced away from the wall and toward the pit. You couldn’t see the bottom, though it was already so dark it could have only been a few feet down. A breeze rustled your hair.

The elf sat down next to you. “You’re not thinking of throwing yourself off, are you?”

“No. You could push me, though. If you’re annoyed I’m still here.” It was a very weak attempt at a joke. The elf didn’t smile.

“I’m glad you’re here, actually,” he said. “Even if you’re the one who got me into this. I don’t want to be alone down here.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I, uh. Don’t mind having you down here either. I mean. I’m not happy you’re going to die too. If I could get you out, I would.”

“Me too. I just wish someone knew what we did. Maybe it could help people,” the elf said. His shoulder pressed against yours as he leaned closer to you. You leaned back into him. The contact was nice. He smelled oddly good, despite everything. Another breeze drifted up from the cavern beneath you, stirring your hair.

The elf went stiff next to you. “Did you feel that?”

“The breeze? Yeah. What’s the big deal?”

“It smells like the forest! Like fresh air! There must be a way out down there!” The elf scrambled to his feet. “If we can just climb down, we can get out.”

You looked uncertainly into the pit. The sides were jagged, with plenty of hand and footholds, but you weren’t sure how far you would be able to make it. “You’ll have to go on ahead,” you said. “I can’t scale the wall, not with my arm like this.”

The elf’s face fell. “I can’t just leave you here.”

“If you can get out, you can get help. I’ll be fine.”

The elf’s tail coiled around his legs and his ears twitched frantically. “No. I’m not going to leave you.”

“You’re going to have to! I can’t climb like this, and you’re even more of an idiot than I thought if you’re going to stay here just because I can’t get out. Go!” You waved your hands at him, ushering him toward the edge of the pit.

“No.” The elf planted his feet, fingers curling into fists. “I can get you out of here. You saved my life. I’m not going to abandon you.”

“Technically, I save your life after trying to kill you. So, I would say that sort of evens the whole thing out,” you said. The elf rolled his eyes, glancing around the small cave. “Look, the longer we stand around here chatting, the less time you have to get out of here-”

“No. I have an idea,” the elf said. He fumbled with the hem of his clothes, tearing it into strips. Most of his stomach was exposed, showing off toned muscle. You deliberately did not look at him. It was not difficult because he was definitely not appealing to look at. “Come here.” You took a cautious step closer to him. “No, come here.” He seized your arm and tugged you next to him. “Stand still.” He took the cloth strips, which he’d tied into a long band, and wrapped them around both of your waists, tying you together.

“What’s this going to do?” you asked. One of the elf’s arms fell loosely around your waist, trying to steady himself against you. An odd jolt jumped through your core. You froze.

“It’s a tether between us. I should be strong enough to support at least some of your weight. You can use your good arm to climb and I can support your other side.” You tried to twist your head to look at him, but that put your faces dangerously close together. You looked away. “But we’ll have to work together.”

“I can do that,” you said. The elf’s hand pressed to your back. His tail twined around your leg for a moment.

“Okay. Just watch your step.” It took some careful negotiating of your positions to start scaling down the cliff, but you managed. Your arm screamed with pain, but the elf’s body pressed against yours, bracing you. Climbing down the rock wall was a slow, uncomfortably process. Once or twice you slipped and the elf had to pause and brace himself to support you, and he even slipped once and you had to bear his weight. It was difficult, but you managed to coordinate your movements. Without speaking, you and the elf moved as one. His tail looped around your waist. It couldn’t support your weight, but it was comforting to feel the elf’s presence.

The wall went on and on. Your arm ached from the jostling alone, and you kept bumping it against outcropping stones. The elf’s breathing had taken on a ragged edge- clearly he was struggling to hold up both of you.

“Can you tell how much further?” you asked. The elf squirmed, trying to get a look at the ground.

“No. It’s really dark. Could be a couple feet. Could be further. I don’t know.” The elf leaned closer to you. “This may have been a bad idea. I… I can’t hold on much longer.”

“I know.” Your own arm was trembling. Going up was no longer an option. There was no way you’d make it back to the top. The only hope was that the ground wasn’t much further away.

The elf moved down a couple more feet. You could tell his moves were laborious. Maybe if he hadn’t been helping you, he would be doing fine, but supporting another person was taking its toll. “I’m sorry,” you said. “This is all my fault.”

“Yeah,” the elf said, “it kind of is, isn’t it?” He sighed. “At least we know the reason our species had a feud, though. Even if no one else ever does, we’ll know the truth.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I’m sorry I shot you and I’m sorry we ended up down here. But I’m gad we met.”

The elf’s tail curled tighter around your waist. There was almost no light, so you couldn’t see him, but you could feel him next to you. Just the two of you, huddled together in the dark. Even that small comfort felt precious. “I’m glad, too.”

As he moved to take another step down, the foothold he was using crumbled. You heard him yelp and felt him scramble to regain his grip, but his movements were clumsy and fumbling. The belt at your waist tugged and you tried to brace yourself, but it didn’t matter. You were tired and your weak grip was no longer enough. The elf’s weight pulled your grip free and you tumbled into the dark.

You barely had opened your mouth to scream when you slammed into the elf, landing squarely on top of him. He huffed out a breath and wheezed awkwardly as you tried to figure out what had just happened.

“What was that?” you groaned, struggling to push yourself up. There was just enough light to see by, which meant that you got a good look at the elf’s face, which was directly under yours, as he stared back at you. Your noses were almost close enough to touch. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest where you were lying on top of him.

“Um,” you squeaked. The elf didn’t seem to be processing the situation any better. He stared at you, eyes wide.

You recovered first. “We lived!” You scrambled up, wobbling a little. Your legs didn’t seem to be fully aware of the fact that you were alive. The elf made his way to his feet, equally unsteady.

“And you feel that, right?” The elf’s ears were twitching and his tail was waving in a constant, smooth motion. He tilted his head back, focused on the airflow of the cave. “The breeze is stronger. This way.” He took off at a light jog. You jogged after him, arm cradled against your chest.

There was a tiny glow of light in the cave that grew brighter and brighter the further you traveled. The tunnel sloped upward, your calves burning as you continued up the increased grade. The elf kept glancing back at you, making sure you were following him.

You turned a small bend and the light pouring into the cave became blinding. Instinctively, you squeezed your eyes shut. One of your hands fumbled and caught on the elf’s arm. He grabbed you back, and, clinging to each other, you plunged into the undergrowth of the forest.

Your eyes were slow to adjust to the brilliance, but apparently the elf’s were not, because he made a choked noise of horror. You squinted, eyes watering. There were dark shapes around you, humanoid shapes. Relief flooded through you. “It’s okay,” you said. “It’s oka-”

The pointy end of a spear hovered right in front of your chest. You froze. The elf, despite being about an inch taller than you, was trying to retreat behind you. You shifted to stand more directly in front of him, good arm out.

Now that your eyes were more properly adjusted to the light, you could see who was gathered in front of you. It was a hunting party, all four of them holding enormous spears and very ready to plunge those spears into the chest of an interloping elf and anyone who defended him.

“Hey,” you said, keeping your voice was slow and soothing as you could manage. “Guys. It’s me.”

The spear wavered. The man in front, Elias, frowned. “Step away from the elf,” he said. “We can take you back to town, get you some treatment.”

The elf was gripping your clothes tightly. His eyes were wide and he glanced at you uncertainly. You could read the terror in his eyes, the utter fear that you were going to hand him over to the humans.

You braced yourself. “No. Look. There was an accident. He helped me, even after I tried to kill him. He comes with me.”

Bewildered looks were exchanged between the hunting party. “He’s trespassing,” Elias said, but there was no longer as much conviction in his voice. You drew yourself up, trying to look as authoritative and confident as possible.

“He saved my life. And he had important news for us. He stays with me.” You ushered the elf fully behind you, daring the hunters to get around you. They looked at Elias uncertainly, waiting for his say so. He looked back at them. Already, they were lowering their spears, and Elias seemed to sense that they were no longer going to attack confidently.

“All right,” he said. “But the elf stays under guard.”

“I stay with him,” you said. The hunting party fell in around you. The elf squeezed your hand. You could feel a world of gratitude through that small motion.

You refused to leave the elf, even as they questioned him and treated your arm. Explaining about what you had discovered took some time, and there was certainly no small amount of skepticism. But after hours of waiting and repeating yourself, a delegation of elves entered the town.

“Guess you’ll be heading back home soon,” you said. The elf nodded.

“I’m glad of that,” he said. “Though I think… I think I’ll miss you. Isn’t that strange? Missing the person who tried to kill you?”

“Just as strange as missing the person you tried to kill,” you said. “I’m glad I met you, Viatas,” You had learned his name soon after the other elves had arrived.

“I’m glad I met you, too.” He leaned in and gave you a gentle hug, careful not to disturb your arm. He was warm and he smelled surprisingly nice and your heartbeat pounded in your ears as he squeezed you.

“We’ll see each other again,” you promised. “Now that we’re actually talking, I think things are going to get better.”

“I hope so,” said Viatas. He waved to you once more before following the elvish delegation into the forest. You watched him until he had completely vanished between the trees.

Three weeks later, you paced around the entrance to the cave. The sun was low in the sky, washing the area around you in an amber glow.

The foliage rustled. You froze, eyes locking onto the spot where it shifted. There was a moment of silence, then Viatas emerged, hands raised.

“Not going to shoot me again, are you?” he asked. You shook your head.

“Still can’t hold the bow, actually. My arm’s not fully healed yet.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Viatas sat down next to you on a fallen log. “I didn’t make it worse, did I?”

“No. They said I probably never would have been able to use it properly if you hadn’t set it. It’s just a bad break. You saved my life and my arm.” You nudged his leg playfully and he laughed. “I’m glad you got my message.”

“I was glad to hear from you. I’ve been worried. I mean, things are going well in my home, but I wasn’t sure how your people were taking anything. You’ve been all right, haven’t you?” He gave you a concerned look and you nodded reassuringly.

“I’m fine. Actually, I asked you here to talk about something. I just got assigned as an ambassador to the elves.”

Viatas’ eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yeah. Apparently an elf will come to my town and I’ll go to yours and that’s supposed to help with interspecies relations. So, uh. I’ll need some help when I go. And I figured that you’d be a good person to ask. I mean, you’re the only elf I really know.”

Viatas frowned. “You try to kill me, kick me when I try to help you, and my reward for getting you out of the cave you were going to die in is more work?”

You sputtered. “You don’t have to! I was just thinking I’d offer-”

Viatas rested a reassuring hand on your arm. “I’m kidding.” He drew closer. In the dim light, shadows played appealingly over his features. You found it a little hard to breathe all of a sudden. “I would love to work with you.” He drew closer still. “In fact, I’ve rather missed you-”

You closed the distance, pressing your mouth to his. He moved in the same moment, lips molding to yours.

An amount of time passed. You weren’t really paying attention to how long. But you broke apart eventually. “You’re better at that than I thought you’d be,” Viatas said in a quiet, awestruck voice.

“Yeah?” you said. “I think you need some more practice.”

“Oh?” Viatas lifted his brows. “Well, perhaps I should get some.”

“Yeah,” you said, leaning close to him. “I think you should.”

#exophilia #elf boyfriend #elf lover #monster boyfriend #enemies to lovers #monster lover

142 notes · View notes