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m00nsbaby · 1 year

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Sleepwalking. (Already over II)

Steven Grant ( + Marc Spector) x F! Reader.

First part: Already Over.

Next part: Clumsy.

Tags & warnings. Angst, like, just angst. Steven hurts his hand at the beggining so there's blood involved, Marc is kind of a... jerk.

Word count. 3.8k

Summary.

What a shame, what a shame, what a shame, It's all fun and games 'til you don't wanna play now. Run away, run away, run away, It's easy to say but it's harder to say now. You're onto something else, I'm a picture left on your shelf. The dream's a lie I tell myself Feel like I'm sleepwalking when you're gone.

The moment the bomb detonated was more horrible than Marc had imagined. Not only because of Steven, who in his mind was the worst of his problems, but because the moment you closed the door behind you, it felt as if you had taken his heart with you.

Marc collapsed on the floor, unable to cry, even if he wanted to. He wasn't like Steven; he couldn't just let it flow, but at this moment, it seemed more like he was in shock.

He wondered, did that really happen or am I just dreaming?

His body tensed for a few seconds; he closed his eyes tightly, and before he could protest, Steven had taken control of the body. He had struggled so hard to keep him in the shadows that his body felt exhausted, with a horrible burning sensation in his muscles.

"Marc?" he questioned out loud, still on the floor. "Marc? What did you do?"

There was no response, and he could only swallow hard as if it would help wash away the bad taste in his mouth.

"What did you do, Marc?" Sometimes the best part of having Steven was having a way to express his pain. By the third time he asked, his voice was already broken, his vision blurred by the tears that threatened to come out at any moment.

Finally, the other one had the courage to respond.

"L-Layla knows," was the only thing that sounded in the headspace.

"How am I going to fix this, Marc?" Memories of what happened just a few minutes ago came to him in flashes; he didn't have the whole conversation because Marc had forced him to stay in the shadows.

The mere image of your heartbroken gaze was enough to cause nightmares for the rest of his life, whether he managed to fix Marc's mistake or not.

"I don't care; I don't care about her!" He sobbed with anger coursing through him from head to toe. At this point, his pain seemed more physical than emotional. He felt exactly like that time when he was impaled multiple times in Cairo.

But worse. At that time, he had a suit to protect him. How would he deal with this now without anything to shield him?

"You can't go on like this, Steven, we can't…"

As if his body moved automatically, he headed for the nearest mirror, the one where you had sought him out for help. His hands stopped on the edge of the sink, and he stared fixedly at himself in the mirror.

Tears flowed freely, seeking to heal a wound the size of his chest.

"I hate you," he whispered with a voice shattered, Marc looked back at him trying to maintain his composure. The pain of a broken heart combined with his constant battle with pride; he would never admit that he might be wrong. "You ruined it, Marc, you ruined everything."

"I did? I ruined everything?" Marc's ironic laughter made his blood boil. "I told you a damn million times, Steven!" The screams made him startle, but he was determined to hide his weakness. He was finally ready to face him. "I told you to stay away from her; was it fair to snatch away the one thing I have?"

Steven's fist went straight to the mirror. He didn't break it, but he shattered the reflection of Marc into many small pieces, and his knuckles were bleeding in a matter of seconds.

"My life is made to support yours." When Steven's fixed gaze met his, Marc had time to question how they had come to this after supposedly fixing things. Was this also his entire fault? "And I understood it, I swear to God I did." Sometimes he had to pause to sniff through his nose. "All I've done is give everything for you, and you took away everything I had."

There was only silence from the other side of the mirror.

"You took her away from me, Marc." His voice gradually lowered; suddenly, he reverted to the old Steven, with a broken heart and his guard down. The one that made him think so much of his younger brother. "What do I have in life if it's not her?"

More silence. Of course, Steven was in the same predicament as him, clinging to something that brought them happiness.

The difference was that for him, it wasn't exactly Layla.

"We were happy with Layla." His broken voice was barely perceptible.

"You were happy." He looked at his fingers, as the blood continued to run through them. "You were happy with stability, happy hiding from problems with stupid adventures that make you forget how bad your life is outside of there."

The amount of resentment in his voice was terrifying. Painful.

"You were happy pretending to be someone you're not." He closed his eyes, letting the tears flow freely. "You were happy pretending I didn't exist."

"S-Steven, I, I, don't…"

There was no more conversation at that moment. Not for the rest of the day. Or the night. Marc was a silent witness to how Steven cried until his throat was raw, how his entire body trembled, and how an nauseating knot formed in his stomach, paralyzing all his muscles.

The next day was a nightmare worse than the previous one. For the first time in a long while, Steven was able to sleep the hours that a normal human needed to function, but the problem was that, of course, these hours had been filled with nightmares and dreams where only you were present. Waking up to the reality where everything was worse was an emotional burden that filled his eyes with tears in the first minutes of regaining consciousness.

Well, he had to start trying. He picked up his phone, the one you always teased him about because it was the oldest phone you had ever seen.

First call, first voicemail.

"Love? Could you answer the calls? I really need to talk to you, I'm so sorry for the things Marc said yesterday."

Second call, second voicemail.

"I'm so sorry, really, please, please answer, okay? I need you."

Third call, third voicemail.

"It was never my intention to hurt you," and yes, for a change, Steven was taking responsibility for Marc's mistakes. "And I know it wasn't his either, he's just… damaged and scared. Please, love, please, let's talk."

Fourth call, fourth voicemail.

"We can't throw away all our plans, love." He didn't fear that you could hear his sobs or the way he struggled for breath between sentences. "I want to be with you. I want to be with you until the last day of my life, please, please."

The fifth call didn't go through. It seemed like you had turned off your phone. Fifth voicemail.

"I know you don't want to see me right now." He had to clear his throat before speaking again. "I just want to talk to you. It's all I'm asking for, it doesn't have to be now, just give me a sign that I can come closer, I'm begging you."

He didn't give up. If it were up to his anxiety, his love, or his fear of abandonment, he would have called you a total of 20 times per hour. But he knew you wanted and needed space. All that was left was to pray that you would hear his messages and give him the slightest sign of life.

In the end, he returned to bed, laying face down, and closed his eyes for just a few seconds.

"Steven?"

"What?"

"The body."

"Huh?"

"Give me the body."

"What do you mean…?"

"I need to go talk to Layla."

"You must be kidding." Steven barely lifted his head to see the mirror resting on one of the furniture next to his bed.

The one he never touched because it had a lipstick mark from you in one corner. A perfectly formed kiss. There was Marc.

"Tell me you're joking."

"Give me the body or I will take it from you."

Steven had no strength to fight, he relented and hoped for a little peace in the darkness of his mind.

That afternoon, Marc apologized tirelessly, and yes, he preferred a million times to falsely accept that he had had an affair than to confess Steven's existence.

"Forgive me, okay? I made a mistake." His hands cradled Layla's face between them. Of course, he had made a mistake, although he didn't specify what kind.

"You're an idiot, Marc." And he couldn't help but think that yes, indeed, he was. There weren't many more words exchanged between them, but unfortunately, this relationship was an imbalanced scale.

It was about two people who simply didn't know how to deal with their emotions, didn't know how to communicate with each other, and undoubtedly had never dealt with their emotional baggage separately to understand that they needed to work to become better.

He couldn't help but notice the parallel. He doesn't remember the romantic part of your relationship with Steven because Steven himself took great care to hide it perfectly, but Marc is aware of every aspect of what your friendship was.

He remembers every argument, if they could even be called that. You two never raised your voices, never.

And you, as the apparent best friend, knew Marc's story inside out, you were never one to raise your voice, but you were always careful not to trigger a bad memory in Steven.

On his part, Steven was incredible at listening. He listened attentively, didn't interrupt, and when you finished talking, he would explain his perspective. You didn't always reach an agreement, that was obvious, but you always knew that you both were much more important to each other than any silly disagreement.

Marc thought about how he would have liked to be as honest as Steven was when Layla's lips were on him. When his way of clarifying things was to have the grossest sex of both their lives.

Usually, the best part of spending these kinds of nights with her was that it meant a mental break with you in exactly two days. Although Steven never understood why you refused to see him the next day, Marc always knew why you felt disgusted. In fact, he understood perfectly, but he never had the courage to tell you that he was sorry.

Thinking that not only were you in love with Steven but that you were also a couple fueled his self-disgust even more.

"I love you, Marc." That was the last thing he heard before leaving his wife's house, which at every moment felt more like a stranger to him.

He didn't respond, and like everyone else around him, she settled for it because everyone always accommodates themselves to Marc Spector's wishes.

Each passing hour, you were crumbling in a worse way. Probably "dead inside" was one of the best ways to describe your current state.

The stages of grief were starting to attack you, very slowly, but you didn't want to be rational because calling it "grief" would mean that you had lost Steven forever.

And you had, but you didn't want to think about that. After all, you were still in the first stage, denial.

It took you a few hours to decide to listen to his voicemails.

"My baby." You whispered to yourself as your arms clung to one of the many garments you had stolen from him. His navy blue sweater that was too long on the sleeves.

You felt ridiculous.

You sobbed forcefully, your cheek had been tingling for a while from the warmth and moisture of your tears on the pillow. Did the breakup hurt? Of course, it hurt to the core, but after hearing his broken voice on the other end of the line, what was probably hurting you the most was knowing that Steven was suffering.

It felt like they were being forcibly torn apart, although it had felt that way from the moment their relationship began. The rope had been tightening around each of you, pulling you apart at the cost of permanently hurting them.

You were sure you would never love anyone the way you loved and still love Steven. Steven would rather vanish than even imagine a life with someone else.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." You whispered as the fabric of his sweater covered part of your face, with the sole purpose of sniffing and recapturing a bit of his scent. The garment had been in your possession for so long that you could barely perceive Steven in it anymore.

You apologized for not being more discreet, for, in your opinion, ruining your perfect relationship, maybe for not knowing how to keep your distance when there was still time. You apologized for being so deeply in love that you felt like you couldn't live without him, for choosing to look out for yourself instead of running into his arms, and for any inconveniences you might have caused Marc one day.

Steven and you were on autopilot. Barely eating, barely breathing, barely existing.

You somehow managed to get up and shower after receiving the call from the pet adoption center confirming that the form you and Steven had filled out had been approved, and now you just had to go for 3 days, 2 hours to visit your future pet.

A part of you momentarily thought about ignoring the call, you were so broken that the mere thought of that visit together ended up squeezing your heart painfully, not to mention that the whole plan from the beginning was for the cat to belong to both of you.

Your rational side was always stronger than you, you couldn't leave the little one without a home. Besides, maybe you needed the company.

Perhaps he would do you good, and you would do everything possible to do right by him.

Needless to say, on the first day of bonding, you cried until your lungs hurt, with the little kitten in your arms. He was so affectionate, providing excellent comfort, but you didn't stop crying for a single moment during the 2 hours.

Then you cried more on the way back home because you had to say goodbye to him.

On the second day, you only cried half of the visit because when the cat started playing in front of you, it drew a small laugh from you for the way he twirled around.

On the last day, you found him waiting for you, ready to settle on your lap. It was as if he understood that you were exhausted, and his purring felt like receiving a hug. You were a perfect match.

Meanwhile, Marc was living days that were going from bad to worse. Steven refused to speak to him more than necessary, but everything hurt twice as much when the breakdowns started coming back. As he took another sip of his whiskey, he realized that this time he had nowhere to go, that he would probably never hear you say "I'm here" again to keep him sane, that your arms wouldn't surround him, and you wouldn't leave him a space in your bed that was a million times more comfortable than his. Accepting that he missed you churned his stomach. Because, of course, it wasn't the first time he had thought of you since you left, but it was the first time he lowered his guard enough to digest that all of this was his fault. That he had hurt you in a permanent way while you had only given him peace whenever you could. Steven understood that both of them were fucked up when he finally saw Marc cry. When Marc finally cracked.

Steven almost had a heart attack when he received a message from you. There was no text, just a photo of the kitten he recognized perfectly.

He wasn't aware of the smile that appeared on his face. One, he could see that the background of the photo was your apartment, which meant the kitten was already with you. Two, perhaps this meant that not everything was lost.

"Can I come see him?" He was biting his nails while waiting for your response. "Sure."

Steven left his apartment so quickly that his curls were still damp from the shower he took in a matter of seconds. He didn't care about being on the most crowded bus if it meant getting to your apartment faster.

Exactly 22 minutes after your message, he was standing at your door.

The smile on his face vanished when you opened the door. Both of you looked like a mess, in pain, and by this point, you had accepted that your eyes would be swollen and irritated for the rest of your days.

You didn't approach him for a hug like he thought would happen. You also took a few seconds to analyze him from head to toe.

He was as beautiful as ever. His messy curls made him look even more adorable. A meow echoed behind you, snapping you back to the present.

"Do you want to come in?"

"Please."

Everything was so… awkward. You stepped aside to let him in and closed the door behind him.

"Sekhmet?"

"Yes."

"I told you that's the name of a goddess, not a god," he said as he crouched down to pet the kitten, who seemed to recognize Steven. The little one rubbed against him, purring loudly, audible to both of you.

"And I told you I didn't care."

A nostalgic laugh escaped both of you. Why was all of this so difficult?

"Hello, Sekhmet." His pronunciation was perfect. You couldn't believe you had the love of your life in front of you after everything that happened.

And worse, you couldn't believe you were about to let him go, for the second time.

"He likes you." You whispered, watching them get to know each other with a lump in your throat. This was nothing like what you had imagined at first; this wasn't how things were supposed to go.

Everything was wrong.

"Steven?"

"Yes, love?" It rolled so casually off his tongue. You didn't remember Steven calling you by your name much, it was always "love" or "lovey" for him, and you were content with that.

This time, you felt a pang in your heart when he used the nickname.

"We have to do this." Your voice broke, and when he noticed your teary eyes, he understood the purpose of the visit. There was no way out of this.

"No, please." He looked up at you from the floor, still on his knees because the kitten refused to leave him. "Please, don't do this."

He broke down quickly too.

"I love you, Steven." Your hand went to his chin, holding him in a way that he couldn't look away from you. "And because I love you, it's only fair that we do this, you and I. Okay?"

He kept denying and denying. Ignoring the insistent meows, he stood up. Now you were the one who had to look up due to the difference in height.

Your heart rate increased with the closeness between you two.

"I don't want to say goodbye." The lump in his throat could be heard in his voice. "I don't want to be alone. I can't do it without you." You couldn't bear to tell him otherwise when you knew you were in the same position.

You stood on tiptoes and, without letting him continue, kissed his lips.

Even his kisses tasted like pain. They were desperate, almost violent in the way he clung to your waist and you to his neck.

You remained like that for a few minutes, tasting each other's tears on your lips until your lungs gave up. It felt like an eternity during which you exchanged kisses and embraced each other between sobs. It genuinely felt like you were tearing a part of yourselves away.

An eternity was not enough for either of you.

"Steven." Your hands on his chest pulled him away just a few centimeters from you to face him. His forehead rested against yours while he hiccuped from crying.

He was your little one. He always had been. Your sweet, sweet Steven. He deserved more than everything life was giving him, and in some way, you and Marc knew it.

"You have to go, okay?" He didn't respond, you just felt his fingers tighten their grip on your waist. "You will be fine, I know you will be." Your fingers roamed through his curls, messing them up even more, and you enjoyed their softness one last time.

"I won't be able to. L-Lovey, I w-won't…"

"Shhh. You will be able to, okay?" The tip of your nose gently brushed against his in an affectionate and intimate gesture. "You will get through this, and you will have the beautiful life that I've always known you deserve."

"I don't want it if it's not with you." His fingers crumpled your clothes from the force of holding onto you.

You lowered your hands to his and slowly made him let go, he shook his head again.

"You have to do this for Marc, okay?" You swallowed hard when his hands finally relented and let go of your waist. "And maybe, if it's meant to be, fate will let us know in the future. Okay?"

Bullshit.

You wanted to be with him now, and he wanted to be with you now, but you were grasping at every possible resource to try to make him understand.

"I need to be alone, okay?" You knew he wouldn't leave unless you hinted that you were uncomfortable with the situation.

Always so respectful, he took a step back and nodded, even though his hands were trembling. He didn't say anything, just looked at you as he stepped back again.

"I love you," you whispered, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

"I love you." It was the only thing he could say. He was about to leave when his legs gave an awkward twitch.

Marc.

Steven looked down, frowning slightly at the momentary loss of control over his body. If Marc was going to object, now was the perfect time because Steven knew he was the only one who could fix this.

His stubbornness was the only obstacle preventing you from being happy.

And yes, Marc wanted to talk. But when he saw you, he knew he would never find the words to fix what he did.

His fear of change hit him again. Why was he regretting this when apparently this was what he wanted from the beginning?

He parted his lips and tried to say something that never came out of his throat. He gave up in seconds and basically fled your apartment, closing the probably happiest chapter of his life in a long time.

#jake lockley #marc spector #moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #moon knight x reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #moon knight x you #moon boys x reader #moon system x reader #oscar isaac x you #oscar isaac x reader

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archangeldyke-all · 8 months

Note

HALLLOOOO

Im obsessed with Sevika’s slutty lil waste and had the idea of a tailor!reader who purposefully makes slutty clothes for Sevika. Sevika would bring her clothes to reader after a fight made them ruined and reader would fix them BUTTTT make them tighter and shorter to see those ABS. Also like the idea of reader making Sevika a suit idk I think she’d look so delicious. ALSO like the idea that reader created the concept of her red cape WHICH is why it’s so special to Sevika.

LOVE YOU ANGELLLL <3333

this is such an amazing concept!

men and minors dni

you've met sevika before in passing. she sometimes accompanies silco to his appointments, brooding in a corner as you pin and measure various suits and vests on the man.

but the first time you actually talk to the woman, is when she comes in without silco, a grimace on her face and a giant sweater pulled over her abdomen.

"hi! you picking up silco's new suit?" you ask her as she approaches the counter. she sighs and bites her lip.

"no, i... i need some help." she says. you tilt your head in curiosity. she takes a deep breath. "there was an accident." she says, slowly pulling her sweater up and off her body.

you gasp as she reveals her torso, only covered by wraps. her left arm is gone, her shoulder bandaged, scars and bandages littering the left side of her body.

your heart sinks.

"shit." you say aloud. sevika laughs and nods.

"yeah." she says sadly. you quickly round the counter and wave sevika in to the side room, so the two of you can talk privately.

she explains to you that silco's doctor is working on a new arm for her, a mechanical arm. she tells you that she'll need to have all her left sleeves removed, that she's seen how 'you work miracles on silco's skinny ass.' and then, darting her eyes away from you, she shyly asks if you could come up with some kind of cover for her new arm.

your heart breaks a bit for her, and before you can help yourself, you dart forward to give the woman in front of you a hug.

she's stiff in your arms, and just as you're about to pull away, she lets out a sad little sigh and wraps her only arm around you.

you hold her until she pulls away. it ends up being a ten minute hug.

you don't mention the tears staining your shirt when she finally pulls away. you don't mention the redness in her eyes. you just smile at her and shake her hand, telling her that you'll get to work on a mock up for a cover, inviting her back over with her shirts for alterations next week.

the next week she comes in with a dufflebag stuffed full of her shirts and jackets.

while you've got her on the platform, wearing her favorite shirt, you can't help but admire how striking her figure is.

"you have a lovely waist." you say, trailing your hands down her sides as you look at her in the mirror. sevika's eyes go wide, a tiny blush blooming on her cheeks.

"th-thanks." she stutters out. you smile.

"you should show it off more." you say. she blushes even harder. you gently tuck the hem of her shirt up one inch, exposing a little patch of her abdomen. "like this." you say, smiling.

sevika blinks at you owlishly. "you think?" she asks. you nod.

"totally." you say. she hums.

"you don't think it's a little much?" she asks. you laugh.

"sevika, if you've got it, you gotta flaunt it!" you say. she smirks, her eyes darting away from yours in the mirror.

"okay. just an inch, right?" she asks. you nod.

it's a lie. that night, as you're carefully removing her left sleeves from her favorite clothes, you pin her shirts' waistlines an inch higher. and then another.

when sevika returns the next week, she smirks at you as you help her try on her favorite shirt.

"that seems like more than an inch." she chastises you. you giggle.

"your belly button's still covered, so it's still professional." you say, shrugging. she laughs.

"that's the rule, huh?" she asks. you laugh and nod.

you're lucky that sevika likes your creative decision. you're lucky that she doesn't seem to notice the way you touch her far more than is necessary for a few pins and measurements. you can't help yourself, though.

just as she's about to leave with all her altered shirts in tow, you stop her.

"wait, sevika!" you call. she turns around with a raised eyebrow. "what's your favorite color?" you ask. she frowns.

"i-- i don't really have one." she says.

you gasp, then grab her hand and drag her back to the work room. she giggles the whole way.

"get on the platform." you demand, taking her duffel bag off her shoulder and throwing it on an empty chair.

you run to your fabrics, pulling scraps of various colors off the shelves. then, approaching sevika, you lay the strips over her shoulders, examining her in the mirror as you study her.

"what're you doing?" she asks, smiling at you. you hum.

"you've got beautiful skin." you say. "a lovely umber." you mumble as you pull a few scraps of pastel fabric off her shoulders. sevika blushes, but you ignore it. "you're definetly a winter." you say. she raises an eyebrow at you.

"what's that mean?" she asks. you smile.

"means you look good in jewel tones. royal blues, emerald greens, you'd look amazing in some rich purple." you say as you wander back to your shelves to pull some more scraps out.

sevika's pupils are dilated, her breathing rapid when you return, draping more colors over her shoulders.

"see that?" you ask from behind her, holding a scrap of royal purple up beside her cheek. "gorgeous." you whisper. "makes your pretty silver eyes sparkle." you say.

sevika's speechless, stuttering and shaking her head.

"purple might be a bit much for everyday wear though, huh?" you ask her. she gulps and nods, and you smile. "we'll save it for your suit." you say.

"my suit!?" she asks. you giggle and nod.

"every gangster needs a nice suit, sev." you say. "silco's gonna be dragging you up top for all kinds of fancy meetings and dinners."

"and how much will this suit cost me?" she asks. you laugh.

"it's on the house. perks of being my favorite customer." you say as you pull the scraps of green and purple off her shoulders. "blue or red?" you ask her, biting your lip and studying her reflection. sevika shrugs.

"i-i dunno." she says. "i'm your favorite customer?" she asks. you blink up at her, smiling at the soft look in her eye.

"yeah." you say.

"oh." she whispers. "well... you're my favorite tailor?" she tries. you burst into laughter, adoring the flustered look that takes over sevika's face.

"i better be." you tease her.

you reach up and gently trace over the light blue scars on her cheeks. "these are gorgeous, y'know." you say. sevika blushes beneath your touch. "i think red's your color." you say. "blue would be nice, but the red will make these pretty scars really pop." you say.

sevika takes a shaky breath, and you pull your hand away. "r-red works." she says. you smile.

"what kind of metal is your arm gonna be? bronze? silver?" you ask. she shrugs.

"gold with copper armor." she says. you grin.

"lovely." you say, smiling.

sevika starts coming by every evening, 'checking up on her cover,' she says, but from the way she just sticks around to keep you company, you figure it's a little more than that.

by the end of the week, sevika and you have shared three dinners, she's shown you the mockups for her new arm, you've shown her how to do a simple stitch, and you've both formed a pretty intense crush on one another.

on friday night, sevika comes in carrying take out, and you grin at her appearance.

"your cover's ready." you say. sevika's eyes widen.

"really?" she asks. you nod. "that was quick." she says. you shrug.

"only the best for my favorite customer." you say, leading her to the workroom.

she stands on the platform, used to the process by now, and you excitedly pull the box off the shelves, a pretty purple bow decorating it. you hand it to her, and sevika raises an eyebrow.

when she opens the box, she gasps.

"holy shit!" she says, pulling her poncho out of the box, throwing the cardboard over her shoulder. you laugh.

it's a cape-like thing, but you've adjusted it so the slit is on her right side, so she'll have full range of motion and functionality with her right arm. the neckline is pouch enough she can pull it up as a hood, and it's been hand embroidered with gold thread, little designs that match the swirls in the gold of her left lapel.

she looks up at you with tears in her eyes, and you gasp.

"is it okay?" you ask, nervously.

sevika scoffs and drops the cape, and your heart drops with it.

but before you can freak out, sevika's reaching forward with her arm, pulling you toward her, and smashing her lips against yours.

"it's beautiful." she whispers against your lips. you sigh, wrapping your arms around her waist and kissing her again.

ten minutes later, when you finally stop kissing, sevika bends down to pick up her poncho, shoving it in your hands. "put it on for me?" she asks. you smile and nod, turning her to face the mirrors as you gently guide her head through the hole, straightening it on her shoulders.

she grins at her reflection. "it's perfect." she says. "thank you." she whispers, tears in her eyes. you melt behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist and hooking your chin over her shoulder.

"do you wanna get dinner with me sometime? not here?" you ask. she grins and turns around in your arms.

"fuck yes i do." she says, before kissing you.

a month later, sevika's your girlfriend, her mech arm's been installed, and you've finished her suit.

she comes over to your store after work like she always does, and you grin at her appearance.

"hey." you say, pulling her back into the workroom before she can give you your hello kiss. she laughs as you shove her toward the platform. "strip." you command. she raises an eyebrow at you.

"here?" she asks.

you laugh. "not like that! your suit's ready." you say.

"oh." sevika says, a little disappointed. you flick her forehead and giggle, then help her out of her clothes.

when she's dressed in her suit, a three piece velvet purple, with golden thread and buttons, the waist hemmed just a tad bit high so a bit of her skin shows, you nearly cum in your pants.

"oh, i'm a genius." you say, nodding at your girlfriend all suited up. she laughs. "look." you say, turning her around to face the mirrors.

it's sevika's turn to gawk. she gasps and then grins, turning side to side, running her hands up and down the fabric.

"fuck... i look..."

"so fucking sexy." you finish for her. she blushes, but doesn't deny it.

"i was gonna say handsome." she says. you laugh.

"both are true, but mine is more accurate." you say. she grins, then turns around and pulls you into her arms.

"i'm in love with you." she says. "i know it's fast, and you don't have to say it back, but you're like the best thing that's ever happ--"

you cut her off with a sloppy kiss, fisting the lapels of her new suit jacket moaning against her lips. you pull away with a gasp, reaching up to trace her pretty blue scars, and you smile at her sparkling silver eyes.

"i love you too." you say. sevika grins. "have you ever given modeling any thought?" you ask.

sevika laughs and leans forward to kiss you again.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

187 notes · View notes

jasntodds · 5 months

Text

Petrichor [20]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 10,185

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, some fluff, mentions of death, blood, canon violence, mention of drug addiction

Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: Can you guys believe book 2 is finally done?? We're finally done with season 3!! lol Book 3 will be the last book and I will have some stuff posted for that soon!! I have a few chapters done already lol There's a longer author's note at the end!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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Jason’s hands are on your cheeks with his lips pressed to yours. Your hands are gripping the ends of his jacket hoodie with all your might, tugging him as close to you as you possibly can as if the very force of your grip will keep him here forever. The teeth of the zippers dig into the palms of your hands and you can't offer a single thought as your mouth moves with Jason's and everything starts to turn sloppy and desperate.

Jason backs you up to the wall where he pins you against it. Teeth smack and clank as you both grip each other wherever your hands lead you as if everything in this moment will fix all of your broken pieces and tainted dreams. You give each other everything, every breath and movement and every piece of yourselves to each other. Jason cuts himself open and gives you everything in him, every part of him even the bad parts just makes you feel whole. He bleeds him dry without ever second guessing it just for you, just to make sure you are happy. And you pull the air out of your lungs and offer it to him in silver jars just to watch him smile. You give him the very oxygen you breathe as if it’ll save him from himself. You offer him the air you breathe in order to see him smile and know he is enough. You give each other everything you can as if this will be the last time you have this moment.

Jason wants to believe this is not the last time but he has never gotten to be so lucky. Not in this life or the previous one. His own certainty is that he will love you in every life after. You have ruined him for anyone who ever even dared to show up later because he is stained by you and he would never have it any other way. But, there is that piece of him that thinks this is it. This is all there will ever be. Something will happen and this will be it so he gives you his all as his mouth moves with yours and his right hand grips your hip hard enough to leave bruises.

Time happens. You know time doesn’t stop anyway. Days go by and then weeks, then months, and then years. Something always comes up and it’ll always be a tomorrow problem and then another tomorrow and another until the tomorrows are neverending. This might be it because you both have a habit of getting lost in time and there is never enough of it. Time will go by and maybe this will be it for you. So, you give him every part of you as you tug the hair at the nape of his neck.

Jason pulls away just enough to kiss your cheek and tenderly makes his way down your neck only to be met with the sturdy armor of your suit. Jason huffs against what skin is exposed before he moves back to your cheek, only for you to laugh softly.

“Safety first.” You mutter through breathy words.

Jason snorts as his head feels fuzzy. "Fuck off." He mutters right as both of his hands squeeze your hips as if they're the only thing keeping him planted on the planet.

Jason slides a hand to your back, trailing over the zipper, ready to tug it down just as your phone starts ringing. The two of you pull away, breaking for some air that isn't tangled between the two of you only to let out groans.

"Cockblock." Jason states as you tug your phone from your suit.

You let out a chortle, not looking up at Jason as your cheeks start to burn. "Who says you were getting that lucky?"

Jason narrows his eyes at you before he raises his brows. "Hey, a guy can hope." Jason states with sarcasm as you look up at him with softness clouding your eyes.

"Fucking cockblock." You roll your eyes earning a laugh from Jason. "Least that was fun." You nod your head as your smile turns into something sad and soft.

You answer the phone before Jason can respond. Dick mostly just explains the sort of plan they have for the moment. They aren't sure what they're going to do about the people in the streets but if Jason and Dick and Donna can be brought back, he wants to find a way to bring all of them back, too. But for now, Dick explains he's going to send you and Jason into the manor together to start taking out of the cops working with Crane in order to give Gar access to the alarm system. Once it's disabled, they'll take back the manor and take down Crane. You and Jason both think it sounds easy enough but sounding easy lately, doesn't mean it will be. But, you both have faith in it. It'll be the closest you've come to taking down Crane anyway. So, you set up a time and end the call.

After the call, you and Jason stand facing each other as you both continue to catch your breath. With the call, the weight and gravity of the situation fall back onto your shoulders. Avoiding it isn't going to make the weight any better. You both need to learn how to remove the bricks one by one. The adrenaline starts to dissipate between you as you smile softly at him and Jason's cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink. Maybe that feels a little unfinished but...maybe that gives you both the opportunity to come back even if it's just one last time for old-time's sake and for now, you're okay with that.

"Well," Jason sucks in a breath finally pulling his hands away from her hips. "Wanna try and get some sleep for a few hours?" Jason offers.

"Yeah, I'm fucking exhausted. I, uh, I don't remember the last time I really...slept, actually." You let out a sheepish laugh.

"Come on." Jason jerks his head towards the bed on the opposite side of the room. "I'll set an alarm." Jason smiles softly at you.

The two of you get into the bed just as you always have. You still say you'll never make him sleep on the floor and it's not like this is something new, even as friends. It doesn't matter. And Jason is happy with this. He's hoping maybe he'll actually get some much-needed sleep anyway. You always made him feel a little more at ease anyway. So, you lay down, your head on his chest and you try to get some sleep before you need to be at the manor.

By the time the next morning rolls around, you and Jason have gotten some sleep. It wasn't good sleep or very much. Some of it was just being a little worried for what today would bring and if Crane planned on setting off another bomb to kill more people. Some of it was worry for the other Titans. And then some of it was just stress. But, you both did get some sleep and Jason's alarm woke up you with a jolt.

A heaviness fills the air between you, knowing this will be it. This is your shot to take out Crane. This is your shot to take back the city. If this plan doesn't work, Crane will expect everyone always and you'll lose. You can't afford to lose today. But, this is what being a vigilante is about. It's risking everything for the greater good. So, the two of you get ready and head outside to Jason's bike.

Jason hands you the extra helmet before he mounts himself on the bike. You're chewing the inside of your cheek, your grip tight on the helmet. Jason can feel it, too. He doesn't want you anywhere near Crane. He could have killed you the last time you were face-to-face. He tried to kill you and that alone nearly sends Jason into a rage. Jason wouldn't put it past Crane to try again or try to get Jason to do it or make Jason watch. You can't die. He doesn't want you to get hurt at all, you've been hurt enough by Crane. It's not up to Jason though. This will never be up to him.

"You sure about this?" Jason asks you, mostly just checking in.

You nod your head softly. "Uh, yeah. Just..." You suck in a breath. "Fucking Crane, ya know?" You shake your head, looking to the ground as you lick your lips. "Ready for this shit to be over." You scoff as you loos back to him.

"You gonna kill him?" Jason asks.

"Did you want to?" You ask right back.

"He almost killed you so..." Jason tilts his head to the side, his voice almost telling you you should have known the answer.

"Dick's never gonna let us." You laugh softly before you pop the helmet on your head.

"He's not gonna stay in Gotham forever." Jason quips as he puts the Red Hood helmet on, making you laugh.

"Yeah, that's true." You take your seat right behind Jason. "Guess we'll just wait until the Titans leave then." You say sarcastically as you wrap your arms around his waist.

"Let's get this going then." Jason says before he revs the bike.

The drive to the manor is quiet, a lot quieter than any ride with you and Jason ever is. On most days, you’re talking through your comms, usually making some sort of inside joke and making some sarcastic jab at each other but today is not that. This is the first time you’re back in the manor together since Jason died. It will not feel normal. It will not feel safe and it won’t be safe. Crane and all of his men are there and this is not how it should be. This is not how you ever imagined it to be.

He was alive and you thought it would be warm and a relief to have him back home. Back at the manor. But, instead, it just feels like dread that’s consuming you because he didn't come with you. He isn't coming home with you. You're only going home together to beat Crane and that stings more than you'll ever tell him. But you have to do this. There is no choice. You are out of options when it comes to Crane. The National Guard has been sent in and Gotham City is under lockdown. Crane wants to take out every person in the city. If you don’t do it now, there may not be a Gotham tomorrow. It’s for the better of the city.

There is also the thought that this is the end between you. You’ll take out Crane today and then…that’ll be it. You’ll go your separate ways for a little bit because that’s what's for the best for both of you. But that doesn’t make the pill any easier to swallow.

As for Jason, he’s focused on the mission at hand. He wants to get in and get the hell out. That’s all this is. For the better of the city. But, he’s also trapped in his own head because he did trust Crane so there is some distant part of him that feels bad about it. It’s the right thing to do and he knows Crane doesn’t deserve sympathy for everything he’s done but something about it feels hard and Jason hates that feeling.

And he’s worried about what will happen when Bruce comes back. Eventually, Bruce will know Jason is alive. Once he finds out, he’ll know about Red Hood. Before, that was fine. It was spite. A fuck you to Bruce and the Bat and everything he stood for. But, Bruce killed the Joker for him. Bruce threw away all of his morals for him. That changes things. Jason is firm in his beliefs and what he wants to do after all of this. Nothing is going to change his mind but there is a part of him that is tired of letting everyone around him down. Bruce is the closest thing to family he’s had since his mom died. He never wants someone else to end up like him, go through the hell he’s been through, but he doesn’t want to give up on this either. Not if Bruce really did that. For him.

Then, there’s that thought of being alone. It’s for the best. It’s for the best for him and you. But, he remembers what it was like returning to Gotham without you while you were a Titan. How it felt like the longest month of his life and you weren’t even together yet. But, you were different people then. You aren’t the same stupid kids who were so infatuated with each other, you could hardly breathe. You are more calloused and damaged and bruised and broken. It’s for the best as you learn to live with your new scars. As you come into yourselves as individual people. It’s going to be hard but it’s for the best. Jason swears it’s for the best and the lump in his throat starts to close off his throat.

“How we doing this, Jay?” You ask once you dismount the bike on the outskirts of the property.

Jason takes off his own helmet. “We’re not going to get in with you just walking with me.” Jason starts, gesturing for you to give him your helmet. “Pretend to hold you prisoner, a peace offering to the psycho.” Jason puts both helmets on the handles, trying his best to be casual about it.

Jason knows that’s a big ask given your history. But, he’s not going to tie you up for real and he’s not going to let anyone else do it. You'll never even see Crane until everyone else gets into the Manor. He knows it's not something you'll take lightly. He just doesn't know any other way. It's not like he can sneak you in, that's why Gar needs to enter as a bat in the first place. Turning you into Crane gets you both in but if you aren't comfortable, Jason knows you'll have to figure something else out. This is just the best, easiest, and quickest way.

You nod your head once. “Right, yeah, okay.” You pull in a weary breath.

The idea of even pretending to be restrained makes you want to peel your skin off your bones. You swore never again. You would die trying to get out of it ever happened because it simply can't. If you get restrained again, what happens if you never get to be free? What if something worse happens? It's why you don't like to use your powers. But, this is Jason and even after everything, you have enough trust in him to know he's going to make sure you can free yourself. It makes you nervous and it scares the hell out of you but you also know there isn't another way. You put your trust in him.

“Is that alright?” Jason asks, seeing the hesitance in your face.

You nod quickly. “Yeah, yeah, of course. It’s our way in.”

Jason nods, his eyes darting over you quickly. "Let's get going then." Jason jerks his head in the direction of the manor.

"Think they'll really buy that?" You question as the two of you start your walk to the manor.

"Guess you'll have to channel your inner thespian." Jason offers you a cheeky grin, trying desperately to ease some of your anxiety.

"That's your job, theater boy." You roll your eyes as you laugh softly.

"Oh, well, we know I've got that covered." Jason chuckles, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "You always said I was fucking dramatic." Jason lets out a light-hearted scoff, looking over to you.

"You are." You let out a laugh. "Most dramatic person I ever met." You scrunch your nose as you look back him.

"Yeah, right." Jason scoffs but the smile beams back at you.

The two of you keep up a steady walking pace through the grounds of the manor. Crane doesn't seem to have anyone watching this far out. Chaos is ensuing in the city which means Crane's eyes are probably there and not on the cameras for the grounds. So, your walk is overall pretty peaceful given your circumstances, something the both of you are thankful for.

Once the two of you start to get closer to the front of the manor, you stop behind a few of the trees to scope out the front. There are two guards standing right out front, fully armed and in riot gear. They don't seem to be paying too much attention but the front of the manor is open so you'll be seen immediately. That's the plan anyway, get in without any disturbance and take them all out at once just to get inside. If you make a scene out here, Crane could lockdown the manor before you ever get a chance inside.

"Okay, I'll just hold your hands behind your back. You act like you want to kill me and we're golden." Jason offers you a cocky smirk.

You nod your head with the roll of your eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know the drill, thanks." You laugh softly but there's something off about it.

The lack of quip and how the laugh sounds hollow. The smile falls almost immediately as you look at his hands. You bite it back and clear your throat, standing in front of Jason with your hands behind your back. Jason's gloved hands hold your wrists soft enough you could barely move and slip right from his grip. He's mindful, keeping his grip above where the scars hit even though they're covered by your suit.

You can feel his grip still and it's like you're being suffocated. The scars on your wrists start to burn, resembling the burn of you tugging and pulling on the cuffs, desperate to get out. You can feel the skin cracking out in a burn and then a deep welt before it's covered in blood. It burns and it aches and it stings. Your stomach twists and turns with nausea. It's the right thing to do because it'll get you in there. You can help and not being able to do this makes you feel weak and useless. But, it's as if you're frozen in place.

"Are you sure?" Jason asks quietly from behind you. "We can try to just tell them I convinced you to switch with Nightwing being dead."

You look over your shoulder, meeting the concerned look written across Jason's features. They'd never believe Jason could get you to switch sides. It would out you and Jason immediately and the whole thing would go to shit. It's for the greater good of Gotham and you trust him.

"Yeah," You nod your head. "Just hope it works." You pull in a breath as you turn back around.

"If not," Jason pauses for just a second. "We'll go down swinging anyway." He says it casually and you can't tell if it's supposed to be reassuring, a joke, or an acceptance of your possible fate.

"Always thought that'd be our way out." You let out a scoff that's ended with a half laugh. "Let's just go before we're late."

The two of you come out from the trees and start your walk towards the driveway. It only takes a few seconds for you to be spotted. The guards point the gun directly at you and it burns Jason's bloodstream knowing they're mostly pointed at you. If one of them even slips or gets a little too trigger-happy, Jason will lose his entire mind. He doesn't exactly trust them. But, he bites it down because if he starts worrying and getting annoyed, you will do the same.

"Found her snooping around the trees." Jason states once the two of you get closer to the front steps, one of the cops meeting you on the driveway.

"Get fucked." You scoff.

"And you're turning her in?" The guard questions, not buying it.

"Told Crane, I'm all in for his plan. Just here to prove it." Jason says casually, hiding every piece of annoyance and anger he has towards this whole thing.

"And you let him capture you?" The guard narrows his eyes at you.

"Fuck you you fucking piece of shit." You bark back. "No, I didn't let him that would be fucking stupid."

"Where are your friends?" He questions.

Your annoyance is not fake. You hate this guy already and the questioning is ridiculous. Why would you tell him anything and why would Jason tell him if he switched sides?

"I'm not a fucking rat unlike Red Hood here." You narrow your eyes back at him. "They're gonna stop him though." You threaten. "The Titans will win."

The cop gives you a sinister laugh, a way to tell you the Titans don't stand a chance. You swear arrogance has only ever worked on Jason. Arrogance on everyone else seems to make them stupid you think.

"Come on." The cop scoffs, leading the two of you through the front door as the other cop joins you.

Jason's grip is loose against your wrists as the cop walks you inside. The cop trails behind you, keeping the gun on Jason, clearly not trusting him. Jason gets the idea Crane knows he's done. That's fine, really. You're inside and with every step, Jason is thinking of a way out of this if it goes south. He should be able to hear the movement of the gun being held tighter before a trigger is pulled. The fabric of his jacket will move and he can shoot first. Your clairvoyance should go off and you'll have a knife out in the same breath. If this guy takes it into his own hands, it'll get messy quick but you'll have a way out. Jason focuses on a backup plan as you're nudged into the kitchen.

"You're not gonna believe who we caught outside trying to get in." The cop states as he leads you into the kitchen where three other cops in riot gear are gathered.

"What in the actual fuck are you trying to pull here?" One of them asks, his eyes directly on Jason. "Crane is done with you."

"I saw what he did downtown. Let's just say I'd rather be in here when the next bomb goes off." Jason states. "Found her when I showed up and thought I'd show my loyalty to Crane by bringing her in."

"What the fuck makes you think he'll take you back?" The guard asks. "Even with her."

"Pretty sure he's getting tired of dealing with the second string." Jason scoffs.

"Dr. Crane?" The guard states after touching his own comm device in his ear. "Red Hood is here." He says after a few seconds. "And he brought Bluejay, says he captured her for you." He pauses for a few seconds. "Thank you, Doctor." He touches his earpiece again before turning to the guy behind him. "Take them down. I'm gonna go outside and see if we have any other visitors here." The cop says before he rams his shoulder into yours to walk past you and Jason, making Jason's grip tighten on your wrists as an instinct.

One of the cops walks behind the two of you and shoves Jason and in turn, shoves you, too. The two of you nearly trip over each other as you move closer to the middle of the kitchen, standing between the islands while the four cops surround you. There's a feeling creeping into the back of your head, spreading through to the front. It's not quite throbbing like it usually does but there's a subtle alarm going off. It feels more like just a gut feeling something isn't right in this kitchen and based on the second squeeze you get from Jason on your wrist, he knows it, too. All you have to do is wait for Gar to trigger the manor's alarm system.

Just then, as if it be on cue, the alarm starts blaring from above you. Everyone looks up and that's the cue for Jason and you to get this thing going. Jason drops your hands and in an instant, Jason takes his elbow, ramming into the face of the cop behind him while you spin around, throwing a kick at the one behind you.

The cop Jason is fighting immediately starts firing while Jason grabs his arms, spinning him around so the gunfire stays away from you. He yanks the gun away as he tosses the cop over the counter all while you fight the first cop, elbowing him unconscious before throwing a knife at the one about to shoot you. Jason keeps his gun aimed at the last man before hitting him with the butt of the gun, knocking him unconscious.

Jason and you exchange a look with heavy breaths once they're all either down or dead. There's a glint of a smile coming over Jason's face as he shrugs.

"Don't gloat." You state, Jason seeing the smile come to your eyes.

"I wasn't saying shit." Jason defends but there's almost a laugh that leaves his lips.

"Mhm, something about how you trained me well or something." Your eyes narrow but there's something soft over your expression.

"I did." Jason holds his head with pride before he lets out a breath. He misses patrolling with you, fighting side by side. He thinks he'll always miss it. "Come on. We gotta get to Gar before they find him."

The two of you quickly make your way through the kitchen and to the main staircase, leading to bedrooms. You follow behind Jason with two knives in hand, keeping an eye over your shoulders while Jason watches around the corners you reach. As you round another corner and keep up your steady pace, Gar pops out from the corner from the hall that continues to your bedrooms. Gar immediately takes a step back, fear falling over his face.

"Hey, Dick sent us, okay? I'm on your side." Jason rushes quickly.

"I told you, he's with us." You urge not liking the fear over his face or the way his arm is almost in position to fight.

You don't blame him and neither does Jason. He just got Dick killed the other night. This is an entirely fair reaction for him to have regardless on if Jason was trying to help or not. And then Gar's eyes widen just as the back of your head starts throbbing.

Jason and you turn at the same time, Jason firing two shots while you throw a knife. Both of you hit the one cop, sending him to the ground instantly. You and Jason look right at each other and just nod before you turn back to Gar.

"See?" Jason questions.

Gar isn't sure just how relieved he is but he is thankful. "Thanks." Gar nods, his voice still a little unsure.

"Set up the router." Jason states.

"We'll watch the hall." You finish as the two of you stand on either side of the hall, opposite each behind two of the large pillars.

Gar ducks behind the corner and starts communicating with Dick about Jason and you being there before he starts working. But, it's only a few seconds before two of the cops show up, jogging through the hall but they're met by Jason and you as you duck from behind your pillars. Jason takes one while you take the other, the two of you using your fists and elbows for nonlethal force, successfully knocking out the cops before you go back to your spots. Jason flashes you a smirk while you roll your eyes.

The two of you wait as Gar takes down the system while Dick is on his way inside. You look over to Jason, his back pressed against the pillar with his gun that he stole from one of the cops downstairs held against his chest. You think about how you're going to miss this part of it. Dick said you work well together, it's why he wanted you to team up for this. Part of it. And you do. You never have to speak to know exactly what the other one is going to do. You think that probably isn't too common and you're going to miss it. You'll miss him, even if it's only a week you don't talk.

It's only a few minutes before Gar finishes up and meets you and Jason in the hall. He looks more relieved now as the three of you stand in the hall and it almost feels like it once did.

"So, you're really with us?" Gar asks.

Jason nods. "Yeah, I'm done with this shit." Jason lets out an easy scoff. "Sorry for everything, man."

"It's okay. You were drugged and manipulated." Gar offers his understanding. "Thanks for the help." Gar nods before he looks to you. "Thank you."

"Yeah, don't mention it." You smile under your mask as you scrunch your nose until you hear fighting and gunfire from downstairs.

The three of you exchange panicked looks before you run down the hall and towards the staircase. You and Jason take one way while Gar takes the other so you have both entrances covered to the main living room, hearing that's where the gunfire is coming from. The three of you reach your entrances just in time to see Dick throw one of his weapons, hitting the barrel of the gun pointed at him which makes it backfire, killing the cop holding it. You, Jason, and Gar enter fully into the room, slightly concerned by the whole interaction and the amount of bodies littered over the floor but not even willing to question it. It was Dick's life or that cop's and he wasn't going to let Dick walk out of here alive.

Dick walks up to the camera and grins wickedly before he salutes it. Bringing Crane down is definitely bringing Dick a lot of joy. It's bringing a lot of the Titans a lot of joy to bring him down.

Dick starts a quick pace to the entrance to the Batcave. "Let's go." He says, looking towards Jason and you.

"No." Jason says quickly, making Gar and Dick stop their walk to the entrance while you look to Jason with confusion. Dick nods his head at Gar for him to keep going before he closes some of the distance between him and Jason. "Look, this is a Titan's job. He knows I turned on him and that's enough for me. You guys finish it."

Something about the way he says it, as a form of acceptance warms your heart. Jason Todd doesn't hold very many grudges. He is not a mean person and he is not a monster. He should walk into that Batcave and rip Crane's head right off of his shoulders for everything he's done but he doesn't. Jason recognizes he was part of this problem. Drug or not, it does not matter. This was his doing and the Titans deserve the right to take him down. Crane knowing Jason turned on him and Jason being allowed to help the Titans, that's enough revenge for him now. He knows you'll give him hell anyway, it's your hell to bring him if you want it that bad.

"You sure?" Dick asks, somewhere between surprised and understanding.

"And tell the others I'm sorry." Jason shakes his head. "For everything." His voice is soft and honest.

"Thank you, Jason." Dick states with a nod of his head.

Dick Grayson can hold a grudge. Sometimes, he can be bitter and angry, understandably so. He can hold a grudge and maybe he should sometimes. But, Dick Grayson is not a mean person. He is not unreasonable. He is understanding and he cares about the people he loves and protects. It was his job to protect Jason at some point and he failed. Maybe some of this is on him and he died. That was a missing piece he really needed to understand how they even got here. He can hold a grudge but one against Jason is not one he's willing to have. He is thankful and hopes once this is over, they can both move on from whatever bitter rivalry boiled between them.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Jason starts as he starts to move away from Dick and towards the exit. "I was never here." He finishes before he leaves the room, you looking back at him before looking to Dick.

"Go." Dick states. "Something tells me you'll find Crane your own way, anyway." Dick doesn't sound pleased but he almost, just almost, looks content.

You nod softly. "Tell him I'm coming for him." You state the smile reaching your eyes just as you hear rapid footsteps coming into the room. Your mouth falls open from behind your mask as your eyes widen and turn watery. "Tim!?"

"Hey!" Tim chimes with excitement.

"I thought you were dead!" You rush over to him and pull him into a hug.

"Oh, yeah, I kind of died." Tim answers. "I don't know. It was weird, Donna was there." Tim's voice is filled with excitement at the mention of Donna, something most people would probably find off-putting. But, not you, that's just Tim.

You pull away, looking between Tim and Dick before you just roll your eyes. "I...okay." You shake your head, deciding to ask more questions later. "I'm gonna go. Fill me in later though, very happy you're alive." You smile before you turn on your feet.

"I knew you were Bluejay." Tim chuckles with confidence.

You turn around and deadpan but Tim holds his confident smile. "Shut up." You let out an exasperated sigh before you turn around and follow where Jason left.

Jason has done everything he can do. Crane might have caused him pain but at the end of the day, it was Jason's trust in him that allowed Crane to cause everyone else so much pain and agony around him. Crane got control of the city because Jason trusted him. Bringing down Crane, that was never supposed to be Jason's job. That should be on the Titans, Jason knows he's just lucky to be walking away from it not only alive, but free.

He walks out of the manor and for the first time, he feels free. He is not obligated to come back. He's not obligated to offer anyone anything anymore. There is no obligation to be a hero or a villain. There is no obligation to be back by a certain time or an obligation to put food on a table. He is no longer obligated to take care of anyone or look out for anyone but himself. For the first time, Jason Todd is free to be whoever the fuck he wants to be without anyone else's opinion or input. That part is a bit terrifying but there is something cathartic about it as the cold Gotham air hits his cheeks. There is guilt and remorse and a heaviness he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to shake. There's the haunting ache in his bones but...he is free to live how he wants for the first time and that, is cathartic.

"Jay!" You call after him, stepping out of the manor.

Jason turns around, brows pulled together. "What're you doing? Thought you'd be in there with them to take down Crane."

"Dick's not gonna let me kill him." You let out a chortle. "And...Tim showed up anyway. It is Crane's fault he died." You nod.

"He died?" Jason questions loudly, his eyes shooting open.

He knew it was bad that night but he didn't realize Tim had died either. He was kind of with you, hoping he lived. It was easier to just hope it would work out. But of course, Crane just had to take out someone innocent. Jason hopes Tim is in the Batcave right now giving Crane absolute hell.

"Yeah," You say quietly. "Um, he seemed okay for the few seconds I saw him. Seemed happy to be here." You laugh softly, looking to your feet before looking back to Jason. "I, um," Your brows pull together as you suck in a breath. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Yeah, yeah, all good." Jason nods his head, earning an eyebrow raise from you. You could always see through him like he were cellophane. "I'm not Robin anymore." Jason confesses, looking around the manor before his eyes come back to you.

"You're not." You nod your head, almost dreading where this is going.

He never needed Robin. He could be just as great as Red Hood or as someone else or just Jason Todd. You aren't sure that's where this is going but you do know what Robin meant to him. You can only hope he will see his worth one day and he'll be able to move on from it with fondness.

"Bruce isn't here." Jason lets out a sigh.

"Nope." You shake your head once, now wondering where Jason could be going with this.

"I can be...whoever I want." Jason swallows thickly before looking to the ground.

You pull your mask off, closing some of the distance between you as a tender smile comes over your lips. "You deserve it, Jay."

Jason could always be whoever he wanted but he always felt like he needed permission. People always expected him to be something specific. If he didn't meet what they wanted, he thought they'd leave. Maybe if he could be what they expected, he wouldn't be too much or too little. He could be just enough and there would be no transaction in being loved. But, it never did work out that way. It led him here.

He isn't sure he deserves to be who he wants but he does want to try. He wants to try and be whoever he can be. Maybe that's worse but at least he'll be him. He will no longer be a torn painting of something everything thought he was. He will no longer put on a facade to be enough. That's easier said than done but he thinks maybe, just maybe, he can do it in time. He'll destroy every part of himself that has been damaged by broken expectations and be the person he actually wants to be. There will be a home for all of his pieces one day.

"Thanks." Jason nods his head. "So do you, ya know."

"Yeah," You scoff softly.

You aren't so sure you do after everything that's happened. On the one hand, you remained on Jason's side but...you did betray him in a way you aren't so sure you can forgive. On the other hand, you owed some more loyalty to the Titans than you did give them. A part of you thought you would turn on them if it came to it and that is not the person you want to be. But, you aren't sure you're deserving of better anymore. It's a lot to be forgiven for and a lot to forgive yourself for. And you just look at Jason who looks like he might have a little more hope left somewhere in his cracked ribs so maybe you can spare some, too.

"Where ya gonna go then?" You ask with a tender voice, as if stalling so you don't have to say goodbye.

"Safehouse." Jason answers. "One I've been staying at." He explains further. "You?"

"Probably call Molly, she'll be pissed." You laugh softly. "I, uh, I've avoided her, ya know? Just to keep her at a distance after Tim, ya know? But, she'll probably let stay."

Jason's relieved you'll have a place to stay. The whole space thing is the point, but if it came to it, he'd never let you live on the streets again. He has more than one statehouse. Molly would never tell you no though. And he hopes you will be a little more careful living with Molly. You wouldn't want to put Molly in danger and have Molly constantly see you with some sort of injury.

"What's next then?" Jason asks as he takes a single step forward, knowing you can only stall for so long.

"Keep this up, I guess." You laugh softly. "I don't know. Come up with a plan. You?"

"Yeah." Jason chuckles softly. "Think I'm gonna keep doing this, work from the top and try to control it. Don't know how much Bruce is gonna like it." A devilish grin puls at Jason's lips.

"He'll probably just be happy to have you alive." You answer honestly.

"Yeah..." Jason's voice goes quiet, not convinced. "You should, uh, you should go back in there though." Jason swallows a lump forming in his throat.

The air feels heavy and thick, stale and bitter. It's like it doesn't want to flow into your lungs with the request. Stalling is just making it harder, you can see it in the way his eyes reflect and the very hint of the tip of his nose turning red. It's not from the cold.

"This is really it, huh?" Your voice quivers with the question.

Jason nods sadly. "Yeah..." His voice is quiet and filled with guilt. Jason almost backtracks but that's not the right thing to do. So, instead, he stays honest. "Gonna miss you."

"Gonna miss you, too." You say quietly. "Just, uh, we'll be in the same city so we just...meet again later." You nod softly, almost trying to convince yourself more than Jason.

Jason nods back quickly. "Yeah, exactly. And we have Molly anyway, she'll never keep us apart." Jason laughs softly.

"You're right." You laugh back. "Be careful, Jay." You close more of the distance between you, offering your hand to him.

It is bitter. It is hard and it is sad. You both might convince yourselves it's for the best but that doesn't make this any less painful. You trust each other more than anyone in the world and you have given each other every piece of yourselves. To see the other one go in another direction feels like you're losing a piece of your own hearts. But this is something you have to do, for yourselves and each other.

"Do you want to leave this on a handshake?" Jason quips back, not wanting to leave this so sad. That was never you anyway.

"No." You laugh as you look down to your open hand before you drop it.

Leaving it on a handshake feels permanent and that is not what either of you want. Maybe time will pass and it'll be hard to come together. But maybe in that time, you'll eventually find yourselves clawing your way back to each other. You both are so positive your hearts will only ever beat for each other as if they are beacons home. You both swear this cannot be the end of you so a handshake won't work.

Jason closes the rest of the distance between you, his hands coming up to your cheeks before his lips press against yours. It's different than it was at the safehouse. It's not heated or desperate. It's not as if you both are chasing something you'll never catch up to. It is tender and soft, deep and passionate. Your hands go to his sides while Jason's thumbs rub over your cheeks. You both take the time to just savor this for all that is worth. It has to be worth something. It just has to.

Jason pulls away first, his forehead coming to yours and he doesn't dare to open his eyes, knowing the second he does, he has to leave. Jason will have to walk away from the one person who showed what unconditional love really is. He'll have to walk away so he savors it for all that he can. You sniffle against him, keeping your eyes closed and Jason knows it's time.

He pulls away just enough, pressing a kiss to your forehead as his hands trail down your neck, to your arms, and then to your hips. Before he can say another word, you pull him for a hug and his arms entirely engulf you. You think you'll never feel this warm again but you hope he'll be happy. You only hope he'll be okay. Jason Todd deserves to be happy no matter what the cost. You press a kiss to his cheek and it's you that pulls away first because you think if Jason does it, he'll always question if it were the right decision. You do it so he doesn't have to.

His eyes are red and watery but there's a firmness, a certainty, over his features. And then he nods.

"I love you." Jason says it first this time and it nearly sends you into a fit of broken sobs.

"I love you, too." You back away from him and think you might get hypothermia in seconds. "See you later, yeah?" You ask.

"'Course, can't get rid of me that easy, babe." Jason tries to lighten it but he's missing the same snark he should have. You offer a soft smile before Jason turns to walk away, only to turn around again. "Keep the necklace, by the way." Jason forces one of his cheeky smirks onto his lips. "Still always come to find you if you need me to." The smirk falls into something sweet and soft.

"You can always come find me." You nod back but this time, you manage a smile. "You and me." You shrug softly.

"You and me." Jason offers you one reassuring nod as his heart feels like it's just fallen out of his ribcage and then he turns around and makes his way down the driveway.

The next two days leave everyone starting to clean up the mess that was left in the wake of Crane's reign of Gotham. The Titans and you have taken over the manor again, getting everything clean and back to how it was before Crane took over. Jason has been at his safehouse, getting everything he needs to make it feel more like a home rather than a rundown and empty building. But after two days, the Titans are ready to leave which leaves Dick to say goodbye to Bruce. That's when Jason walks in, figuring it's his turn to have a conversation with him now that he's finally back.

Jason finds himself going back to his old room while Dick and Bruce finish up their talk. The hubcaps he stole from the Batmobile lay on his old dresser and he finds himself thinking about it. That night. He remembers the day Bruce told him about Robin and offered him the position if he were willing to train for it. It was hard and it sucked but the day Bruce gave him that suit, Jason swore it was the greatest day of his life. He remembers how happy he was as if he had finally found his purpose in this world. Not one single part of him thought he would be here today. He never thought he would have died and betrayed the people he loved. He never thought things would get here with Bruce. It was so happy and fulfilling and now it's...tarnished. Broken and shattered. He wonders what his old self would think of him now.

Bruce walks in a few minutes later, gaining Jason's attention.

"Coming here wasn't my idea." Jason immediately defends himself as he turns around to face Bruce, hoping Bruce believes him.

There's a long pause as Bruce puts his hands in his pockets. "Can you forgive me?" Bruce asks.

It is agonizing with Bruce asking. It's something Jason didn't expect, not from Bruce. A part of him, wants to ask for what? Jason can see some of the wrong Bruce did that did not help him. Some of those things did contribute to him dying and working with Crane. But, the way Jason sees it, Bruce isn't the one who needs forgiving.

Jason leans against the dressing, stuffing his own hands in his pocket before he nods softly. "But you can't forgive me." Jason shakes his head.

Bruce shakes his head back, looking to the ground. "There was a time when that would have been true, Jason, but..." Bruce shakes his head as he pauses before he looks back to Jason. "We've all grown and crossed lines, starting with me."

Bruce crossed the one line he swore he would never cross and Jason crossed it, too. He does not want to lose his son over this whole thing. Bruce knows he has a lot to make up for, thinking maybe he should have listened to what Dick was trying to explain to him since leaving. It has to start somewhere and Bruce is willing to start here. He forgives Jason for everything, no question or doubt in his mind.

"I did things I can't come back from." Jason shakes his head.

Jason knows Bruce's line. Bruce killed the fucking Joker which basically every single person in Gotham agrees was the right decision. Jason did not kill the Joker. It's different. Jason turned on Dick, Bruce's other son. This whole thing is different than what Bruce did. Jason can't erase any of it no matter how badly he wants to. The drug and the killing of his friend, the betrayal and injuries he's caused are things he can't come back from. He did horrible and unforgivable things. He can't go back and change it. He needs to just find a way to live with them now.

"Did you want to come back?" Bruce asks.

Jason looks around his room before pushing off of the dresser. "Here?" He questions as he closes some of the distance between him and Bruce, leaving a few feet between them. "No." Jason's voice is honest and soft. Jason looks to the ground. "That life is over." He says before looking back to Bruce.

Bruce lets out a sigh of understanding. "What life is next?"

"I don't know." Jason answers honestly.

"The fear that you felt, I refused to see it because it's something that you and I share." Bruce explains quietly as he gestures softly between the two of them. "It held its weight over us. But fear is a bad mentor. I wish I had had the strength to help you face yours." Bruce is quiet but honest and this is the deepest conversation they've ever had.

Jason has held resentment for Bruce but...this conversation is changing that, it's just making him feel more guilty over it. Bruce doesn't admit that he's wrong often. Part of that is Bruce is very rarely ever wrong anyway but even then, it's hard for him to admit fault. It means a lot to Jason that Bruce is taking some of the accountability for it even if Jason doesn't blame him. Dick and you were right, Bruce actually does care.

Jason looks to the ground. "When you killed the Joker, did you do that for me?" Jason asks as he looks back to Bruce.

Bruce pauses for a few seconds before he nods his head. "Yes." He answers simply. "I did."

It's all Jason needed to hear. He doesn't know what this means for them but...he'll never be able to express what it means to him for Bruce to have actually done that. For him. Before coming here, he wasn't sure what he wanted from the conversation or what to expect but it wasn't this. It's better. Jason has confirmation that he is important to Bruce, not as Robin but as Jason Todd.

"Thank you." Jason states, his words firm but tender before he walks past Bruce and leaves the room, leaving the manor.

You and the rest of the Titans are at the hangar, waiting for Dick. You might not be going with, but you're here to say goodbye and Tim is here. Tim has since told you about the whole bridge dream thing where he met Donna and Hank. Hank sacrificed himself so him and Donna could come back. It all sounded completely insane but you aren't going to argue with Tim over that. You're just happy to have them both back and alive.

"He said ten o'clock. He did say ten o'clock, right?" Kory asks, pacing near Conner.

"He said ten." Conner confirms, holding the strap of his backpack over his shoulder.

"He'll get here...eventually." Rachel laughs softly. "He always does." Rachel finishes just as they all hear honking and turn to see an RV pulling into the lane.

"Hey, did someone order a bus?" Gar questions.

The bus pulls right open to the opening of the hangar where Dick and Donna are seated in their seats. You stifle a laugh and right about now, you're pretty glad you're not going with them. Sitting in an RV with the Titans for over three days with no way to escape, does not sound fun. Though, you think they'll have a great time.

Donna and Dick get out of the bus, Dick looking very pleased with himself as he faces the rest of the Titans.

"Hey, Dick, uh, what is that?" Rachel questions as her arms are crossed over her chest.

"That's an RV." Dick states, pointing a finger back at the door with genuine happiness in his voice. "I figured it would be way more fun than taking Bruce's jet."

Everyone turns to look at the joy that could have been. You finally break, letting out a quick laugh as you shake your head. You can confirm the jet is way more fun and it's faster. But you aren't going to tell Kory that.

"Why would that be more fun?" Kory asks as if she's going to pass out.

"Roadtrip!" Gar says quickly before he turns to you. "I'm gonna..." Gar points to the RV with a large smile.

"Have fun." You laugh softly before you hug quickly. "Lemme know how Metropolis is! And fill be in on all things Superman, he's actually cool." You beam as Gar laughs and promises to let you know everything before he darts over to the RV and rushes right inside.

"Right because who would want to fly in the batjet?" Rachel quips as she makes her way to the RV.

"Exactly." Dick states, picking up some of the bags to load them up.

You stand back, watching Rachel and Gar go onto the bus. Donna and Tim are saying their goodbyes to Conner just as Blackfire drives up to the hangar, leaving Kory to say her goodbye. Dick starts loading bags into the storage compartments of the RV so you pick up one Gar left behind and bring it over.

"Not mine." You state quickly as Dick takes it from you.

"Are you sure want to stay here? Plenty of room." Dick offers kindly.

You look to the giant RV and then back to Dick. "Yeah...I think all of Gotham can see that." You quip back before letting out a soft laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure." You nod with confidence, sure of your decision. "Thanks, though."

"Jason?" Dick asks, mostly just to check this isn't about him though this time if it were, he'd entirely understand.

You shake your head. "No. We, uh, we are not speaking. We are giving each other space after everything that's happened." You answer simply. "It's home, like I said. And now I have Molly who will not shut up about me needing eyes in the sky like a Ned Leeds or Ganke." You mutter earning a questionable look from Dick. "Spider-Man thing, ask Gar." You laugh. "I have her and uh, yeah. I don't know. I just want to stay here and do my own thing." You shrug as a soft smile tugs at your lips.

"Good." Dick nods with a proud smile. "But if you change your mind or you ever need anything, we're a phone call away." Dick offers you a smile, something you don't know if you'll ever get used to. You're so used to fighting with him.

"Of course." You laugh. "I plan to harass you still." You beam up at him.

"Thanks." Dick deadpans with sarcasm.

"Thanks again though for..." You gesture broadly. "And not killing Jason. Seriously, Dick, I owe you a lot for the last couple of weeks for shit I did and the hell I gave you. So, thank you. I will deny it, but you are very good at this shit. And I'm gonna miss all of you a lot."

"Thank you." Dick says with honesty. "We'll all miss you, too." Dick nods down at her.

It's sad for him to say goodbye but he's very proud. A little worried because it's you but he's proud. Looking back at your first day at the tower to now, he's impressed and happy with how far you've come. It might have gotten messy but you never wavered. Jason died and that was horrible for you and it changed things. Dick saw that same thing in himself when his parents died. Then, you turn around and refuse to compromise your own morals even if that means making things harder on yourself. And you refuse to quit even when maybe you should. He thinks you'll do just fine no matter where you are.

You smile softly before closing the distance between you and hugging Dick softly. Once you let go, you head back over to your place inside the hangar with Tim and Donna. The three of you watch as the Titans pile into the RV, Tim looking defeated and saddened. Tim offers them a sad wave.

"For what it's worth," Donna says softly as she rubs Tim's back. "I think you would have made a pretty decent Robin."

"You would have." You add in, feeling bad for him.

It's as if he's watching all his hopes and dreams about to drive away. But then, Dick looks back at all of you, tossing his backpack onto his back.

"You coming?" Dick asks, his eyes right on Tim.

Tim's eyes nearly shoot out of his head as a smile splits his face. "Are you serious?" Tim asks.

"The question is: are you?" Dick asks back. "I mean you got some nice moves but you're gonna need proper training...if you're up for it."

Tim looks between the three of you with a smile that will likely be plastered across his face for the rest of his life.

"Go." You encourage him. As much as you don't want to see another friend join the whole vigilante thing, it's something Tim really wants and you do think he'll be a great Robin. He deserves the chance and it is a little funny to you that Dick is still plucking people off the street to join the Titans. Like father like son. "I'll look after your parents." You assure him before Tim is quick to skip over to the RV and dart inside before Dick can change his mind.

The three of you watch them finish getting onto the RV and unlike when you left San Francisco, this feels different. It felt...sadder last time like maybe it wasn't time for you to go. It wasn't time for you to leave the new family you had been brought into. You felt hopeful but sad where this time, there is still sadness but it's filled with hope. It is up to you to determine the life you want to live. It's up to you if you want to go back to the Titans and if not, that's okay because they're your family. It's up to you if you want to be Bluejay. You don't have to live with Bruce or Jason. You can just...be you. In Gotham, just as you were before. You'll have her best friend at your side and if you're lucky, maybe one day you'll have Jason, too. But, until then, you just get to exist with hope-filled hands.

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A/n: I can't believe I finally finished book 2!! I was really pushing at the end there lmao I love season 3 but it took so much out of me lol So, thank you to all of you who kept reading and big thank you to anyone who's commented and/or reblogged!! I SWEAR comments have always meant so much to me and make me want to finish lol

So with that said, book 3 will be the last book and I don't think it will be as long as 1 and 2?? But I am really excited for it!! I have a lot planned and season 4 episode 11 is canon so you'll have that to look forward to!! I've got 3 chapters already done. I'll have more info on it later with a posting date!! It won't be long between this chapter and book 3, promise!! Thank you guys so much!! 😭😭😭

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roosterforme · 2 years

Text

The Deployment Diaries Part 24 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley plans a trip to take you to Virginia to visit his parents and learn more about them.

Warnings: Smut, angst, fluff and swearing

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots! Check my masterlist in my profile for the reading order!

The day after Bradley had been promoted, you woke up draped across his chest with your hands wrapped around him while he breathed deeply. A smile touched your lips when you thought about the banquet.

You had literally begged him to fuck you in the middle of the ballroom. Bradley had taken your underwear off in the elevator. He had ripped your dress and absolutely railed you on the desk in Admiral Simpson's hotel suite. You should have been embarrassed, but you were not.

In fact, the two of you rode the elevator down and then went back to the ballroom. You could see your blue underwear tucked into Bradley's jacket pocket, and you could feel the mess he had made between your legs. But you walked back in, hand in hand, and grabbed your clutch from table nine. It was obvious what the two of you had been up to, your hair was wrecked, and his hat was crooked on his head no matter how many times you tried to fix it.

When you and he had returned the key card to Marjorie at the front desk, you had to hide your red face against Bradley's uniform jacket as he told the other woman, "Can't thank you enough, Marjorie. Hope your night is half as good as mine." And Bradley still couldn't keep his hands off you, kissing your neck and running his hands along your ruined dress while you waited for the Bronco which had been valeted.

It hadn't even been your own promotion banquet, but it ended up being one of the best nights in recent memory.

Bradley started to wake, shifting beneath you. You kissed his neck and chin, so thankful you could finally sleep on him again without causing him discomfort.

"Morning, Sweetheart." His raspy, sleepy voice made you absolutely crazy. "I had the wildest dream last night, you're never gonna believe it," he mumbled, smiling with his eyes still closed. "Dreamed I fucked you in the penthouse suite, right next to Cyclone's loafers."

You giggled uncontrollably. "That was no dream, Roo."

In one fluid motion, he rolled you onto your back and pinned you beneath him. "Are you trying to tell me that really happened?" he asked in mock surprise as you vigorously nodded your head. "I don't believe you. You can't be real. You're too perfect, Baby Girl. I must have dreamed you up entirely."

Your breath caught in your throat as his lips met yours in a brief kiss. "Hmmm, but you taste real," he told you softly, running his fingers along your bare breasts. "Feel real, too." When you moaned, he added, "You even sound real. But I made you up, I'm sure of it."

You ran your fingers through his hair, reveling in the feel of his beautiful lips and mustache teasing your neck while his hard cock rubbed against your thigh. "I'm real," you insisted just before his lips closed around your nipple. You ground your body up against him, clenching around nothing as he teased you.

He was too good at this, always anticipating what you wanted. Last night, you'd been mesmerized by him, begging for his cock, and he'd happily delivered. But somehow he seemed to know that right now, you needed him begging for you with his own brand of sweetness.

When his tongue tasted the underside of your breast while his nose rubbed your taut nipple, you tightened your fingers in his wavy hair. He grinned up at you before he sucked your nipple into his mouth, making you moan loudly. As he gently rolled your peak between his teeth, you wrapped your leg around him and rubbed your pussy along his abs. He sucked on you hard before pulling away, releasing your nipple with a soft pop.

He whispered, "So sexy, I definitely made you up." Then he devoured your mouth again, letting you ride his torso until you were soaking wet and whimpering.

"Roo," you gasped, and he was immediately sliding inside you.

The pace was slow and steady, and he found your swollen clit with his calloused thumb while his other hand wrapped around your neck. You were whimpering for him while he fucked you, broken little noises you'd never once made in your life before becoming acquainted with his body.

"If you're real, I'm keeping you forever. If you're real, Baby Girl, I need you to stay with me." His words made you dizzy, echoed in your brain like a voice at the end of a tunnel.

You'd give him anything if he would just keep coming home, because you needed him as much as he needed you. "I love you," you promised, allowing yourself to climax in his arms like a snapped string.

You had no idea how much time had passed, but he was still inside you, collapsed halfway on top of you.

"I'm supposed to meet Cam and Maria for brunch, Roo."

"Just five more minutes," he whispered, burying his face in your hair.

"Just five," you told him, but you gave him fifteen.

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

On Monday morning, you made Bradley breakfast before you left for work, even though he insisted he should be the one making breakfast for you.

"It's your last week off work, Roo. Might as well enjoy it," you told him.

Once you were dressed in your uniform and ready to leave, you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. "I've been thinking... If you get deployment papers when you go back to work next Monday, I'm kidnapping you and taking you far away from here."

Bradley chuckled as he rested his forehead against yours. "If I get deployment papers next week, I'll gladly go along with your plan, Sweetheart."

Bradley sent you out the door with the peanut butter and jelly sandwich he'd made for you and a playful swat to your ass.

Once your car was gone, he got to work.

He scrolled on his phone and found the email you sent him a month ago detailing how many PTO hours you had left. Looks like you had plenty.

He called his mom's cousin, and had a nice conversation with Brenda, during which he let her know he may be around for a few days this weekend. She said she would be delighted to have a chance to meet you, and even offered up her home if you and Bradley wanted to stay there.

Then he started looking at flights from San Diego to Norfolk. A Thursday night redeye would arrive in Virginia on Friday morning. A Sunday night flight back to San Diego with a layover would probably work.

He put the flights on hold, and reserved a rental car and a hotel room. He dug around in the bedroom closet, stopping to flip through his calendar with a grin before locating the key and fob he would need to access the storage unit located just outside of Virginia Beach.

As long as you confirmed you wanted to go this weekend, everything was set. He'd discreetly get the ring, tuck it in his pocket for later, and then collect the photo albums with you. He figured whatever you and he decided you wanted, you could bring back in suitcases, or mail it to the house. Then you'd toss or donate all of the rest of the junk. Then Bradley would be able to close out the storage unit, completely ending his disjointed existence and hopefully making his life with you in San Diego even more permanent.

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

When you got home from work, Bradley was out, most likely at physical therapy. Although he was allowed to go back to work next week, he would still be in therapy for a bit longer. You caught him checking out his arm in the mirror this morning, a look of distress on his face. The new scars were still fresh and angry looking, pink and raw compared to the ones he'd had for years.

All you had been able to do was pull him away from the mirror and wrap your arms around his waist. You reminded him that none of that mattered since he'd come back home to you in one piece. You couldn't care less about the way his arm looked.

Bradley arrived home while you were making spaghetti and meatballs, and his arms were around your waist instantly. His face was buried in your neck, kissing you like always. You'd become so used to him doing this, if he ever stopped, you wouldn't know what to do with yourself.

"Hi, Roo." You smiled as he nipped at your earlobe.

"Sweetheart. Let's go to Virginia this weekend," he said, his voice so close and so raspy, your eyes fluttered closed.

"This weekend?" you asked, trying to recall if you had anything in your calendar.

"Mmhmm. I already found flights. You can meet some of my family, we can get the photo albums, and I'll take you to the cemetery to see my parents' graves."

You turned around in his arms so you were facing him. His eyes were earnest and unguarded, and you knew no matter what you had planned for the weekend, it wasn't as important as this.

"Yeah, okay," you agreed, and Bradley's mouth was on yours before you finished speaking. He wrapped his arms around you, guiding you back until your butt hit the edge of the counter top.

"Yeah?" he asked between kisses.

"Sure, Roo. We can go." He kissed you like he'd been missing you, like you'd been gone for weeks. His right hand was tangled in the hair just behind your ear, and his thumb traced your cheek so softly. When you parted your lips, his tongue dipped inside.

You wrapped your arms tighter around his middle and enjoyed the luxurious feel of his big, warm body against yours. When he finally broke away from your lips, he whispered, "Perfect. I'm going to go pay for the flights and hotel room and everything."

"You can use my credit card!" you called after him as he ran off to the bedroom.

"Nope," he called back to you, and you just rolled your eyes.

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

Bradley didn't know how he would make it through the week. He was so excited, and he kept thinking about all the little things he wanted to do. Maybe you'd go with him to pick out some flowers to take to the cemetery. He could drive you to Virginia Beach and show you his old apartment and the air base where he had been stationed for most of his naval career.

He'd talked to Brenda again, and promised her that he'd bring you with him for dinner on Saturday night at her house. She said she would try to reach out to some more cousins and extended family members and check to see if they were free as well.

Then he would have the ring. He could bring it back with him to San Diego, and plan out the most exceptionally romantic evening. A beach walk and picnic with Tramp, lots of hand holding and kissing, then he'd distract you and put the ring on Tramp's collar. It was going to be perfect. He couldn't wait.

He drove himself to physical therapy on Thursday while you were working, and he stopped by the tower to see Mav and any other aviators who might be around.

"Bradley!" Maverick pulled him into a hug. "Looking much better!" he said, lightly smacking Bradley's cheek.

Bradley just laughed. "I can't wait until Monday. If I had to spend one more week at home, I would need sedation."

Maverick laughed and nodded. "The need to always be doing something is in your Bradshaw blood, I can tell you that much. Glad the missus got you to relax a bit so you were able to heal."

Bradley's heart skipped a beat at the nickname Mav used for you. God willing...

"She's a great nurse," Bradley confirmed, and then his mind drifted into the other direction, recalling the nurse role playing you'd been dabbling in to help him feel better. "I'm actually taking her to Virginia for the weekend. We're flying out to Norfolk tonight."

Mav raised one eyebrow at his almost nephew, and Bradley slowly nodded his head in response. Then they grinned at each other. "Good for you, Bradley."

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

You were exhausted and couldn't wait to get on the flight and try to sleep. You hated taking the red-eye flights, and you knew you would be exhausted all weekend because of the different time zones. Plus, Bradley seemed to be completely wired which was driving you crazy. Now that he had no lifting restrictions, he insisted on carrying everything around the airport. He was wearing your backpack and pulling the shared carryon suitcase.

"I can take my backpack, Roo," you told him after you went through security.

He had such a bounce in his step for nearly nine in the evening that you had to roll your eyes when he said, "Nope," with a big grin on his face.

You just yawned in response and curled up next to him in the terminal. "Just wake me up when it's time to board the flight. I'm so tired."

You slept most of the way on the flight to Norfolk. You'd threatened Bradley when you boarded the plane, telling him you needed him to sit still and be your pillow. He just smiled at you and agreed, and so you'd dozed off for most of the five hour flight. When the plane touched down at six o'clock in the morning, local time, Bradley kissed your entire face, knocking your glasses askew and making you laugh.

"Did you even sleep at all?" you asked him, fixing your glasses and stretching.

"A little bit. But I've been resting for weeks, Sweetheart. I'm good to go."

"Mmm, okay." As you deboarded the plane into the Norfolk airport, you asked, "We're not seeing any of your family today, right? That's tomorrow?" You were wearing yoga pants and a tee shirt with a zip up hoodie. You didn't want Bradley to try to sneak in a visit with Brenda this morning while you weren't dressed in one of the cute outfits you'd packed for family time.

"No, Baby Girl. That's tomorrow afternoon. I want to take you to the storage unit first, and we can spend some time sorting through everything. We can run to the store and get some boxes to pack up, and mail stuff to our house. We'll take care of all of that and then head to the cemetery afterwards."

You briefly wondered if you should change into something nicer for the cemetery. It wasn't the traditional way to meet your boyfriend's parents, but you were nervous anyway. You'd been thinking about doing this for months. You loved Bradley and wanted to help him keep his memories of Nick and Carole alive in his mind. You wanted him to share all of them with you. You'd already put an annual calendar reminder in your phone for Nick's birthday on September 28th. You had two months to plan something special for that day, and you'd try your best to make it something memorable for Bradley. And now as he wrapped his hand around yours as you walked through the airport, you decided it didn't really matter what you wore today.

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

"Let's stop and get breakfast first," Bradley said once you were collecting your rental car. "I'm starving."

"Me too," you said, but then you started absolutely cracking up when you and he stopped in front of the red rental car.

"Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me," Bradley muttered. He just shook his head. The rental was just a newer model of your little red piece of shit car that was sitting at home on the driveway next to the craftsman. He glared at you as you cackled and tossed your backpack onto the back seat. "You think it's so funny? Then you can drive," he said, opening your hand and placing the keys in your palm.

"Okay, I'll drive," you managed to say between laughing and gasping. "But don't be surprised if I love the way this one drives too, and end up buying the current model year when mine eventually dies."

He snatched the keys back and announced, "I'll drive."

You settled into the passenger seat as he buckled you in, still chuckling as Bradley moved the drivers' seat back all the way and started the car. "Nope, it sucks just like yours," he tried to say with a straight face, but definitely failed. You both laughed as he pulled out onto the main road and headed for one of his favorite diners.

"They have excellent grits," he informed you while he drove.

"You can't even get grits in San Diego," you replied, looking at the bright green trees along the way. "It's so pretty on the east coast in the summer. God, I do miss it sometimes. They have real trees and grass here."

"Yeah, and fucking humidity," Bradley growled, turning the air conditioner on even though it was early. "How about I promise not to get horrifically injured next summer, and we can stay with your parents for a week and enjoy the insects and humidity?"

"I love that idea," you told him with a smile as he held your hand. Your parents were flying out to San Diego for Labor Day weekend since the summer had kind of been a bust with Bradley healing. It was already the final days of July, and you and Bradley hadn't been able to do much. You hadn't gone away all year except for the weekend in La Jolla. So the break this weekend came at the perfect time.

"Here it is. Look how awful it looks from the outside," he said as he pulled into the diner parking lot.

"That's how you know it's good," you replied and he smiled at you as he parked.

You both shared a huge breakfast platter and a side of grits. You even went so far in your "southern breakfast experience" as you had taken to calling it, that you ordered yourself a sweet tea.

Bradley listened to you tell him about your work project as you ate. He only understood about half of what you even did at work, so he interjected when he could. And then you told him, "Are you sure I'm dressed okay to go to meet your parents, Roo. We might have to stop and check into the hotel first so I can shower and change."

He looked at your beautiful face, and your messy hair and glasses, and he smiled. "You look perfect."

You just rolled your eyes at him. "Alright," you said with a shrug. "Let's get going then! I can't wait to see your baby pictures!" you gushed, pulling out your credit card for the waitress before Bradley could get to his. Then you pulled him along with you to the car. "How far away is the storage unit?"

"About twenty minutes," he said, and his heart leapt. He buckled you into the rental car and kissed you softly.

"Ahh, baby Roo photos! It's going to be too cute to handle!"

As Bradley drove, you played with the radio stations. He had been trying to mentally catalog everything that he'd tossed into storage over the past twenty years. He wasn't certain what he would find. He knew his mom's wedding dress was in there somewhere, plus some hideous antique furniture that he desperately hoped you would agree to donate. He knew there were bins of photos and albums, but they were probably a mess. If you wanted to look through them, it might take all day.

He had also narrowed the location of the ring down to one of the cardboard boxes that was probably near the front of the unit. It was in the last group of things he left behind when he had started college. He'd have to get his hands on the navy blue velvet ring box before you found it.

You were singing along with Elvis on the radio as he pulled up to the front gate of the massive storage complex and scanned his key fob.

"Wise men say, 'Only fools rush in.' But I can't help falling in love with you."

The lyrics were a pretty good representation of the way he felt about you, and as he parked the horrible rental car, he had to take a moment to breathe.

You just rubbed your hands together and shot him a silly grin. "Let me at those baby pictures," you said, wiggling your eyebrows.

"Let's go," he said with a laugh. And as he walked with you to unit 511, he hoped you didn't notice the way his hand shook a little bit. He was suddenly nervous, but he couldn't pinpoint why. What if he wasn't able to find the ring? What if it was somehow lost, never to be seen again? He should have treated the damn thing with the utmost respect and taken it with him every time he moved. What the hell was wrong with him? He could barely even remember what it looked like. He just remembered his mom wore it every single day of his life until she was dead. And she had made him promise to keep it instead of burying her with it. The same couldn't be said for the wedding band Goose had engraved with their wedding date, which he'd left on her finger. That was for Carole and nobody else.

Now Bradley could practically hear her telling him, "Save the engagement ring for your wife." He'd shaken his head at the time, but now he was suddenly terrified he wouldn't be able to find it for you.

"This is it?" you asked, eyeing him a bit warily as you gestured at the correct door. He must not have heard you the first time you said it.

"Uh, yeah. This is it." He unlocked the door, and stepped into the twelve foot by twelve foot unit that contained pretty much all that was left of everything either of his parents had ever owned.

You took his hand again and stepped inside with him. He heard you whisper, "Wow," as you looked around at the dusty boxes and bins and furniture. "Feels like hallowed ground somehow?"

"Yeah, I guess it kind of is," he agreed with you. Then you wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your face in his neck.

"I don't want to mess anything up, so why don't you tell me where you want me to start?" you whispered. Bradley kissed the top of your head. His heart was still beating erratically as he tried to guide you toward some of the photo bins.

"Start over here, Baby Girl. Should be some interesting photos in there. Let me know what you find." He kissed your lips once before you turned away with a smile, and you opened the top of two large plastic bins that were stacked one on top of the other.

Then he frantically started sifting through the boxes on the other side, starting with the ones that had his own handwriting sharpied on the outside. The first box was just clothing, although he did pause to examine a few more Hawaiian shirts that had been his dad's. Then he tossed the box to the side; he would come back to those later after he got what really mattered.

"Oh. My. God! Bradley! You were the most adorable child!" you gushed, drawing his attention. He turned around to see you holding up a framed photo of him smiling with no front teeth.

Bradley laughed. "I forgot how blond my hair was. I think that was around my seventh birthday."

You just looked at him and bounced on the balls of your feet a bit. "Literally too cute for words! Okay if I sort these into piles so we can pack them up and mail them to ourselves?"

"Of course. Sort them however you want, Sweetheart." But he was already focusing his attention on the next cardboard box. He found some jewelry at the bottom, but no engagement ring.

"Lord, we would have the cutest kids," you muttered to yourself, and that made him smile. But then the frown returned after the next few boxes came up empty for him as well.

"Roo! I found your parents' wedding album! Check out the retro 1983 hairstyles! How vintage!"

Bradley turned to look as you walked over with the album. He just shook his head and pointed at a picture of his parents in Disney World on their honeymoon. "Are you saying I look vintage, Sweetheart? Are you calling me old? I look exactly like Goose!"

Your laughter filled him up as you examined the photo of his dad wearing one of the Hawaiian shirts that now belonged to Bradley. "Same shirt, same haircut, same mustache," you confirmed, leaning up to kiss him. "But you're not old, you're classic, Roo."

"Yeah, that's more like it," he told you, but you'd already returned to the bin for more.

Then a box that had Mom's Stuff written on the side caught his eye. He quickly extracted it from the stack, and with a hopeful breath, he opened it up. There was her wedding dress that he'd just seen in the photos. It was wrapped in some sort of plastic garment bag, but he still pulled it out carefully and draped it over a few of the other boxes as gently as he could. It really was beautiful. Then he reached in the box and pulled out her framed high school diploma followed by their marriage license. He set those down gently on top of the dress bag.

When he looked into the box, he could see the cardboard bottom. He could also see some journals, a bundle of handwritten letters and a navy blue velvet box.

You weren't paying any attention to him. You were completely absorbed by the treasure trove of photos you were digging through. Bradley popped open the small box, and he felt tears sting his eyes. It was beautiful, and all of the memories of his mom wearing the ring, the way the summer sunlight used to hit it when she took him to the park, all of it came rushing back. She'd loved his dad so much, she had never taken it off.

It was a plain gold band, with an oval diamond surrounded by a halo of tiny diamonds. Bradley pulled it out of the box and held it in his palm, letting out a sigh of relief. But the longer he held it there, it just became more evident that it was meant to be on your hand. Only ever meant for Carole's hand and then yours.

When he turned and saw you running your hands over his parents' framed wedding portrait, Bradley took the ring between his thumb and index finger. Somehow this just made sense, because as soon as he had it in his hand, he wanted to give it to you.

"Baby Girl?" His voice was raspy and a bit uneven, but you turned to him with a bright smile on your face.

"Yeah?" You set the photo down and took a step toward him. "What did you find?"

Bradley's heart was pounding, but mostly because of how right everything suddenly felt. So what if he did this now? It actually seemed like the perfect place and the perfect time, and he smiled up at you as he dropped to one knee on the dusty floor of the storage unit he hadn't been to in years.

He held the ring up, and your eyes went wide.

"Baby Girl, you have completely changed my life. You make me feel like I can have everything I want. Like I deserve everything I want."

"Bradley," you whispered, and he watched you slowly cover your mouth with your fingers as tears welled in your eyes.

"I want you. I want to spend my life with you. I think I've known since I first met you that this was it for me. That there was only ever going to be you after that. I need you in a way that I never expected to need anyone. And now that I have you, I want you forever."

He watched the first tears fall from the corners of your eyes and roll down your cheeks. You wiped them away behind your glasses, but kept your eyes focused on him as he said, "I love you. I'm always going to love you. Will you marry me?"

You swiped at your tears, as something that sounded like a sob mixed with a laugh escaped your lips. Then you nodded your head and said, "Yes!"

Bradley stood and scooped you up in one fluid motion, mashing his lips against yours. You laughed and cried against his mouth, but you kissed him back and wrapped your arms tight around his neck.

"I love you, too," you managed to say when he pulled back slightly. And with the biggest smile of his life, he slid the ring onto your finger.

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

We have finally reached the point Bradley has been hoping to get to for months!!!! Hope you loved it as much as I love you!

PART 25

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#rooster x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #bradley rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader

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sehtoast · 8 months

Text

Aphrodisiac (Homelander x OC)

18+ | 5k, marathon sex, mild degradation, face fucking, aphrodisiac use, aggressive sex, ruined orgasm, orgasm denial, ceiling sex, floor sex, couch sex, bed sex, window sex, every flat surface sex basically, semi-public sex, elevator groping, multiple orgasms, overstim, dry humping, thigh humping, Homelander being Homelander, spidersona oc, porn without plot | Fic Directory

Inspired by the spider lotion debacle

There was never a day where the incessant bitching didn't grate on his nerves. Every fucking minute around Ashley seemed to consist of listening to her grind an entire department to dust over product error or oversights that even the world's least talented dipshit could notice.

On one hand, he enjoyed watching her get worse. Seeing each and every little strand of hair fall out, piece by piece, literally pulling it out over her role as manager. On the other, it was fucking annoying.

Until now.

“And it's attracting horny fucking spiders!” Ashley shrieks into the receiver. “I don't care if you have to stay here all night– fix it now! If I see another wolf spider running around R&D to go fuck a bottle of lotion, you can forget giving your kids a Christmas this year.”

The words went in one ear and right out the other, but he did catch one phrase in particular that was oh so relevant to his needs and wants.

Horny fucking spiders!

Not in the literal sense, of course. The last thing he needed was those eight legged pests vying for a piece of him, but he did have one spider in particular that he was more than happy to attract.

One spidery man named Benjamin, that is.

“What was that?” He asks with a lilt of amusement and true curiosity. Only one of those wasn't fake.

“Oh, sorry, sir!” She shrimps away slightly. “Those idiots in research and development were making a new lotion for Spider-Man's upcoming cosmetic line, but, for whatever reason, it's attracting a bunch of spiders– I hope you're not arachnophobic!” She gives a nervous laugh. “Look up some time, there's cobwebs everywhere!”

He hums and purses his lips, shaking his head with a roll of his eyes.

“Ashley,” he says lowly. “Do apex predators need to look up?”

There's that spark of fear, that helplessness that he fucking loves. She squeaks a negative noise.

“No, sir.”

“Then why the fuck would I care about cobwebs?” He snaps. “Or bugs for that matter?”

As he turns on his heel to go do his own research, he can't help the devious grin on his face.

Horny spiders? What kind of cocktail of mistakes attracts such unpleasant pests– and, better yet, what are the odds that it would work on his spider?

The nerds in the lab give him some long winded explanation about chemicals. Something about compounds mimicking pheromones in sexually responsive female spiders, but his smile grew like the cat that got the cream.

He plucked a jar of it from a staging table, giving it a deep, savoring whiff.

It didn't smell half bad. Citrus scented, like Benjamin prefers his products. Lime and a hint of something… herbal– basil, perhaps. But, overall, very soft. Gentle even on his bloodhound nose.

“Not bad,” he shrugs. “Mind if I keep this? I don't really give a fuck about the spiders.”

The lab rat had little to say in the way of protest. Really, though. Who the fuck was going to tell him no?

Homelander decides to grab a second jar on his way out.

Back in his penthouse, he strips down in front of a mirror. Stares for but a moment to take in the sight of himself.

The contradiction between his suit and his real body always did disappoint him, but he’s a little less harsh on himself these days. Benjamin’s influence, he supposes.

With a sigh, he dips his fingers into a jar and pulls out a healthy glob of lotion. He slathers it on his neck, where he knows his skin will remain exposed. Homelander applies slightly less on his upper body, and barely bothers with his legs at all. He does, however, apply it heavily to his core, painting his inner thighs, his cock, his sack, even his hole and cheeks with the gentle scent. He can already sniff out the unique bond it creates with his natural smell and he hopes with every fiber of his being that his plan will work.

For good measure, he rolls his slicked body around in their bed a little. Maybe the lingering scent will help him get lucky again when they lay down to sleep at the end of the day.

He doesn’t have to wait long at all to test his plan. Tuesday was generally considered a boring day, full of meetings and stupid shit that none of them ever liked to bother with. However, it couldn’t possibly stoke more excitement in Homelander at the realization he’d be standing before his little spider discussing boring old numbers. It was the perfect opportunity to see if it works.

It didn’t take long at all for the team to trickle in. Benjamin, with his mask on, greeted him with a hidden wink and a wave before taking his seat beside Noir. The stragglers trickled in and he began.

“Now, you guys,” he started. “I’m not one to lecture, but can any one of you tell me what the fuck is going on that we all collectively dropped a percent?”

The Deep raised his hand– because of course he did.

He hardly listened to anything that fish fucking moron had to say, instead focusing on the sound of something so very beautiful. Something that was picking up in intensity bit by bit, damn near unnoticeable at first.

Thump thump.

Homelander’s almost kicking himself by the time he realizes.

Thumpthump. Thumpthump. Thumpthump. Thumpthump.

When the deepened breaths kick in, he knows.

While A-Train and The Deep begin to bicker over whose most recent stunt was at fault for tanking their numbers, Homelander instead takes a minute to peer over at Benjamin. He lets only the faintest smile crack his all-business expression.

Even those cute little emotive lenses were wide.

Benjamin’s heart rate had gone up quite a bit– blood pressure, too. Underneath that red mask were a pair of cheeks flushed damn near the same color. Dilated eyes.

He can practically hear the bug gulp.

The web-head was more than well aware of his innate ability to clock his arousal at any given time. God knows Homelander abuses the power on the regular, but it plays a special role today.

It makes him far more excited to see how this goes.

Homelander meaders innocently around the V shaped table for a time as he takes over the conversation once more, making his way to stand behind his little spider.

“Tell you what, though.” Homelander smirks. “Bug boy here has been doing a great job with his assignments.” He drops his hands on top of Ben’s shoulders, giving light squeezes that surely felt much more powerful to the receiver. He takes a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of Benjamin’s arousal. “Does everything I say, never misses details. Doesn’t launch fucking dolphins out of windshields.”

Across the room, The Deep averts his gaze to the ground.

“He’s a good boy.”

Benjamin begins to sweat at the mere fucking contact. Something was different, something was very fucking different, and he wanted to jump Homelander’s bones like never before. Whatever it was, he couldn’t name it. At first, maybe he thought it was something about his appearance. He did look extra handsome, but nothing seemed… different? Same undercut, same suit, same handsome smile.

He still dominated the room just as he always did. Still toyed with each of the members in his own cruel ways– well, playful ways with him, cruel only to the others.

Ben simply couldn’t figure it out.

Until he said that.

The way he moved when he said it. Homelander had leaned down to say it right next to his ear and he’d caught a whiff of something.

He had no idea what it was, no clue at all, but the intensified smell made his entire body go rigid and his cunt clench. Ben tried to be subtle about his building arousal, but he knew that extra deep inhale didn’t go unnoticed.

Not with the way Homelander winked at him as he took his place at the head of the table once more.

Worse yet, now that Ben had caught that scent, he couldn’t stop smelling it. It seemed to permeate the room. It was everywhere. Like it had embedded itself into his olfactory bulbs and it was all he could fucking smell. Not even the complimentary Vought brand coffee with its typically overpowering odor could dominate his senses.

He squirmed through the whole meeting. Crossed his legs, clenched them tight. Heard his heartbeat in his ears for the whole duration. By the end, he knew he’d soaked a small patch right into his suit, and thank fuck the fabric was dark enough that it wouldn’t be visible or he’d be truly mortified.

Benjamin remained in his seat as the others left the room. Used to be they’d give him sympathetic looks every time Homelander directed him to stay afterward, but it had become the norm over the past year. Once they’d all left, he pulled his mask off.

“Did you hear a word I said?” Homelander teased, pressing a button on the table to lock the conference room doors. “Or were you too busy leaving a snail trail on your seat to notice?”

“I did, I–” Ben stopped as soon as his voice quivered.

“Really?” Homelander inquired, stalking over to stand behind him. “On your feet. Tell me what today was about.” He was thrilled to the point of bursting to know it was working. Oh the fun he was going to have with this…

Ben rose from his seat, head light and clouded with lust. The wet fabric of his underwear grazed his hardened clit and he all but stumbled. Before he could even speak, Homelander’s hands were upon him and that scent was fogging his senses tenfold.

“You can’t tell me, can you?” John smirked, pressing himself against the web-head’s rear. He discards his gloves and reaches around to swipe his fingers over Ben’s clothed cunt, chuckling darkly at how wet he was already. The other hand trails up to lodge his thumb in the bug’s mouth and he feels Ben’s entire body react to the taste. “Feels like you were too busy making a mess of yourself to care. You’re fucking drenched.”

Ben’s hips rock back against him, head tipping to make room for the lips beginning to peck at his neck. The taste of Homelander’s skin is sweeter than he normally tastes. Sweeter than anything he’s ever had in his life.

He moans around the digit.

“Pretty little thing with my finger in your mouth.” Homelander purrs in his ear, fingers rubbing at his soaked core. “Bet you wish it was my cock instead, right?” He presses down against Ben’s tongue. “Answer me, pretty boy.”

The bug nods furiously, hips pushing forward to seek more pressure from the hand between his thighs. He bites against Homelander’s knuckle, drawing forth a deep, dark laugh from the man behind him.

Within seconds, he’s forced onto his knees and Homelander’s cock is lodged firmly between his lips, pounding the back of his throat without any buildup. He gags twice, but ultimately takes little time at all to adjust to the girth filling him, moaning with every opportunity for breaths, hand dragging Homelander’s pants down enough to toy with his balls.

The taste from before is infinitely stronger and Benjamin feels his slick pool even more through his drenched underwear. But he wants this, wants this so fucking bad he can hardly stand it. He wants to get used, wants to be fucked in every way imaginable. Something more powerful than his own mind demands it.

“That’s right, fuckin’ choke on it,” John grits as he rams in hard, holding himself there. “Fucking slut, all wet for me in a meeting of all things.” He reaches down and lovingly taps against Ben’s cheek. “Bet you’re so horny you’d have let me fuck you in front of them! Claim you, take you apart with an audience.” He draws out and drags his shaft across Ben’s flushed face. “You were made for me– made for my cock.”

Ben nods, mouth open and tongue wagging out to catch his length once more.

Homelander begins to jerk himself off, tip pressed firmly to that needly little tongue that was just begging for his load.

“That’s it,” he growls between slick strokes. “S-Swallow every drop and show me! Show me how good you take it– ah!”

He moans freely through his orgasm, eyes fighting to stay open so he can watch every spurt that paints his lovely little Benjamin’s mouth and face. He watches it pool along Ben’s tongue, shoot onto his upper lip, a little on the flare of his nostril. With a hand in his hair, he tips Benjamin’s head back.

“Swallow,” he orders, pleased as can be when his little spider does so without any objection and shows him an empty mouth.

With a pleased pat to Ben’s cheek, Homelander pulls his pants up, smirking wickedly at the desperate, whining complaint from his love bug.

“Oh, you didn’t think I was gonna fuck you after this, did you?” He muses playfully. “I know I said you’re a good boy, but you’re too good. Y’see, you ranked higher than me this month and that, babe, just hurts my feelings.”

“Wh– I didn’t mean to!” Ben says desperately, crawling toward him on his hands and knees. “Please, Johnny! I need–”

“Mmm, nah.” He sighs theatrically. “I don’t think I can right now. Besides, the board of directors are gonna be using this room soon. They’re probably already outside the door, so you should probably get cleaned up…”

With a whine bordering on truly pathetic, Benjamin wipes his face clean of come and saliva and rises to his feet.

“What a shame… I’d have liked to, though. You just had to be such a good boy and outdo me. Oh well,” Homelander lilts, unlocking the door and making his way out. “Maybe next time.”

Next time comes fairly quickly, as does he. Roughly an hour later, Benjamin cornered him in a hallway and dragged him into some random broom closet. Webbed the door shut, jerked him stiff– not that it was difficult to do– and begged to get fucked.

So Homelander did exactly that. Fucked him hard and fast against the wall, pace brutal and unrelenting, catering only to himself. He spilled a thick load and slipped out, watching with satisfaction as it leaked from Ben’s sopping core and splattered onto the ground.

His little spider begged him for more, of course. Begged for anything– fingers, his mouth, anything at all, to no avail. Homelander left him there, desperate and nearly unhinged, to bring himself to an unsatisfying climax.

Even then, it wasn’t nearly enough.

Homelander went about his daily bullshit duties for a time, relaxed and in such a great mood from having gotten off twice in one morning. His little scheme had been more than rewarding and anything that came after was simply a bonus.

He slips into the elevator, deep in thought, but is pleasantly surprised to find his little love bug in there as well. A glimpse through the mask lets him see just how feral the look in Ben’s eyes had become.

The elevator shuts.

“Lovely weather we’re ha–” He tries to jest, but Benjamin pounces on him in an instant, forcing him back. Homelander grins gleefully at the way Ben clings to the wall, effectively caging him.

“We’re going to your place,” Ben all but pants. “And you’re going to make me come as many fucking times as it takes.”

What a delicious offer.

“Am I now?” Homelander teases. Ben lifts his mask just enough to expose his mouth before diving in on his neck. Teeth sink into his flesh and the sensation tingles right down to his groin. Never enough force to puncture, but just enough to make him fucking feel it. “What’s got you thinking you can make me?”

The elevator was rising and anyone could come in at any moment. They’d be caught red handed, but neither seemed bothered.

Those teeth bite even harder– probably as hard as his little spider possibly can– and he chuckles darkly.

“Oooh, a bug bite,” he muses. “Maybe they should call you Mosquito-Man inste– oh!” He bites off a gritty moan. In the midst of his tease, Ben reached down, pressed his fingers back to his taint, and pushed hard. “Oh ff–”

The elevator dings and the doors open to the floor of his penthouse. Benjamin, smirking, drags him down the hall. As soon as they cross the threshold, the bug throws him against a wall.

“Do you,” Ben purrs with a trembling voice, “have any fucking clue how horny I am?” He buries his nose in Homelander’s neck and takes a deep, long sniff. “You smell like fucking sex! That doesn’t even make sense, but–” He licks a thick stripe from jugular to jaw. “You fucking do.”

With a dark chuckle, Homelander rips the mask off Benjamin’s head and takes a handful of his mussed hair. He forces Ben to back up and throws him onto the leather couch, admiring the view of his spread legs and the darkened patch of slick soaking between them.

He leans forward until he’s crawling up the length of Ben’s body like a predator stalks its prey, fangs bared and eyes dark with the thrill of the hunt.

“I can still smell my come in you.”

The statement alone is enough to make Ben’s cunt flutter with excitement. In a flash, his suit and underwear are torn from his body and his dripping pussy is exposed to the voracious man before him.

Homelander’s tongue swipes between his folds before he even has time to beg for it. Ben’s head falls back with a cry of bliss, relief and excitement swirling in his head all at once. His thighs are pinned to his chest and John makes the loudest fucking slurping sounds with every pass.

“F-Fuck!” He mewls, trying desperately to rut against the tongue washing over his bud– but Homelander holds him in place. When that warm, wet muscle delves into his hole, he keens and thrashes his head back and forth. Ben’s hands grab desperately for anything, anything at all. “Johnny, please! I– No!” He cries when it all halts abruptly.

Homelander comes back up with a slick soaked chin to kiss him, slotting right between his legs. He swallows Benjamin’s complaint with a messy kiss, licking his taste inside. Homelander was not a giving man by any means, but he wanted his little spider to indulge in the delicacy of himself.

He rocks his hips forward, mind hazing at the grind of the cup in his suit against his cock. He mimes the act of flat out fucking Benjamin, grinding and humping against him with an otherworldly force. If the bug were anyone else, his pelvis probably would’ve shattered by now.

Ben tangles his hands in Homelander’s hair and tugs harshly. His hips rise and fall to meet each thrust and every brush of John’s suit against his clit makes him see stars. He moans freely, unabashedly with each stroke and, oh, it feels so fucking good!

He changes direction to start prying that stupid fucking suit off of Homelander. All but shreds the cape, peels the top layer off and that scent hits him full force again. With his legs around Homelander’s hips, Ben rolls them onto the floor with a heavy thud.

“Oooh,” John lilts. He puts up no fight when his boots and pants are tugged free, and especially doesn’t complain when Ben suckles the tip of his cock through his briefs before ripping them clean off. In seemingly a flash, the tip of his cock is breaching Benjamins’ cunt and that heat transcends his body and floods his mind.

With a needy little moan, he grips Ben’s hips and impales him in one sharp thrust. His ego swells at the noises his little spider makes at the adjustment. Ben is so wet he practically slid right in. It’s always good, but now? Seeing him so desperate, seeing such an unhinged look in his little spider’s eye– god, it made it even fucking better.

Benjamin starts riding him desperately. There is no coordination to his movements, no sense of dignity or pride to be upheld with the frenzied way he fucks against him. His eyes roll back, his head lolls around, and he moves like his life depends on it. When Homelander tries to sit up, he shoves him back.

Ben digs his fingers into the tufts of hair on his love’s chest and lets the setae in his digits embed. A dizziness rises from his cunt all the way to his head and the room fucking spins. His breaths leave in frantic, heaving gasps. He’s close, he’s close– he’s so fucking close!

Hands come down hard against his ass and grip with a punishing force to direct his movements. He tries to fight it, tries to keep his own pace that was going to be enough, but Homelander would always win in a game of strength.

His whimpering complaint becomes a pathetic moan as the cock filling him begins fucking him at a pace far more brutal that what he could accomplish himself. Homelander fucks deep, fucks hard and furiously, strikes his cervix damn near every time and it hurts so good. Ben falls against his chest, mind drifting away until he’s being rammed against a cold surface.

He peers from under heavy eyelids and the whole fucking room is upside down. He’s pressed to the ceiling, whining and keening as he’s fucked raw.

“Think you’re gonna overpower me!?”

He doesn’t have it in him to even shake his head.

“Think I can’t take control from you in a fucking second?” John grits between snaps of his hips. Ben’s helpless sounds are like a fucking melody in his ear. He reaches down and presses against Ben’s clit and gives the slightest rub that sends him over the edge. His melody is a symphony screamed for him, only for him. He doesn’t stop rutting, doesn’t stop fucking into him hard and fast even as Ben’s cunt flutters and clenches over and over again. By all means he should fucking let off and make Benjamin suffer the rest of the day for shoving him back like that.

“Think I can't take whatever I want!?”

But he doesn’t.

Homelander drops down to the floor, keeping Benjamin impaled on his throbbing cock with ease. He walks them to the window and slips out just long enough to spin him.

“Bet those fucks in the building across the street can see you,” he snarls. He rams his cock into Ben so hard the glass creaks in protest. Each thrust is pointed, accentuated by his words. “Little. Fucking. Slut! Show the world how good you take me. Let ‘em all see what a little whore you are!”

The cold from outside seeps through the fogging glass, penetrating Ben’s skin with an icy chill that contrasts the fire burning inside him. He wonders if anyone can really see him like this. Oh, if they only knew that their beloved Spider-Man was getting railed by The Homelander himself.

Homelander leans back to take two bruising handfuls of Benjamin’s hips to push and pull him back and forth on his cock. In turn, the web-head shoves his hands against the glass to push himself back into it.

“God, it’s fucking pathetic how bad you want me,” Homelander grits through clenched teeth. “Dripping onto the fucking floor!”

Ben squeezes his eyes shut and shoves back with all of his might, audibly cracking the glass and sending them both stumbling backward. John catches him by the waist but doesn’t interrupt the motion. They collide with the statue of Atlas, sending it and all of its beauty to the floor to shatter.

Homelander slips out of Ben and lifts him with one arm to the bedroom, shoving him onto the edge of the bed and yanking him just right to ram back inside with a throaty groan. He reaches down and grasps a handful of those unruly brown locks and makes Ben stare into the mirror on the wall.

“Watch yourself get fucked.” He commands with an exceptionally sharp snap of his hips. “Look how fucking helpless you are! I can do whatever I want to you, and you fuckin’ love it!”

Ben stares through lidded eyes. He’s drooling, he’s got tear tracks down his face and handprint shaped bruises already forming at his hips. And Homelander?

He looks like a fucking animal. His eyes glimmer with specks of gathering crimson. His fangs are bared, his brow is knit, and every muscle in his body flexes with restraint.

“Look at me!” He demands. As soon as Ben’s eyes meet his in the reflection, he slams into him hard once, twice, and a final third time before blowing his load deep inside. His jaw tenses hard and his eyes screw shut. A tense, rattling moan emerges from within his chest and he presses tight against Ben’s rear. “That’s it– oh, fuck yeah!”

In Homelander’s blissful stupor, Ben seizes the opportunity to shove back and escape his grip. There is always, always a point when John comes in which he is totally at ease– and the flicker of red behind his eyelids gives it away all too well. Ben splays him out onto his back, right along the edge, and bends his legs toward his chest juuust enough to–

“O-oh, fuck–” Homelander keens.

Benjamin presses forward, taking his cock to the hilt in a position miming missionary with a special twist. A reversal of sorts.

Maybe he’d let the switch up slide for a minute. He always did like this position.

The web-head ruts forward and fucks John’s cock into himself with practiced ease. Homelander’s legs wrap around his waist and the strokes deepen.

He can feel slick drooling down his balls and Ben looks like a glorious, fucked-out mess above him. The bug’s clit grazes the base of his groin with each shallow thrust and he swears he sees something nearly rabid dance in those sweet, chocolate eyes

“Good boy!” Ben gasps. “Lettin’ me fuck you– lettin’ me take what I want! Knew you would, knew you’d let me have fun too– mmm, fuck!”

He wants to roll his eyes, but Benjamin feels so fucking good at this angle that he doesn’t know what to even do or say.

“S-So good, baby,” he coos. “So fucking hot!”

He relaxes a leg and shimmies a hand between to stroke his little spider’s nub and the stutter of his hips satisfies him to no end.

“That’s– ah– that’s good…” Ben mewls. “Oh, fuck, rub my cock, baby!”

His fingers dance through the threads of come and slick between their bodies as he brings Benjamin higher and higher. He watches his little love bug begin to hold his breath and thrust faster, harder, more and more until–

He all but screams, hips stuttering and legs quaking while his body practically fucking convulsed from his orgasm. Ben heaves a sharp breath and his mind all but completely shuts down when that scent somehow floods his senses tenfold. He collapses forward, engulfed entirely in the aroma. His limbs twitch, his lower lip quivers, and his cunt doesn’t stop pulsing. “Wh– what– I…” he tries, but no other words come out. His vision starts to fade and the sheets hit his back.

He feels Homelander moving inside him again and he can’t even think. He’s lost in the haze, lost in John, lost in whatever that fucking scent was. Whatever it was– all of it– he just knew he fucking needed more and more. Even when his vision whites out from his next climax, he needs more.

When he’s fucked with his head hanging off the bed, blood rushing to his skull, he needs fucking more.

Even when his cunt is overflowing and come soaks the mattress, when Homelander nearly lasers his fucking head off, when the walls are charred, when he’s confident he won’t be able to stand, when he’s fucked and eaten so raw he can’t even feel between his legs, he still needs more.

“Wh– What the fuck…” John pants weakly in his ear. He’d finally collapsed, finally gone limp. Even his legs were beginning to tremble. “It was just fucking lotion, how are you–”

“Wha..?”

Lotion?

“The f-fucking– you know! The cosmetic line. Your stuff.”

Ben peered up at him halfheartedly, barely coherent but just enough

“S'fucking, I dunno. Hold on…” Homelander slung his arm over to the nightstand and palmed around for the jar. When he found it, his fingers dipped into the opening. He forgot to close it.

Ben's eyes shot open the second the jar came near.

“It's… Those dipshits in the lab fucked up. It's a horny spider magnet.” He explained with a weak grin. As if unconscious of his actions, Ben began to grind weakly against his leg. “I didn't think it'd work, but fuck… It worked.”

Ben looked at him in disbelief, but the way his body reacts to the simple change in proximity tells him it’s true. How fucking funny, too, that the jar would sport his V-bodied spider crest. Almost like it was designed specifically to reduce him to a begging wreck.

“You m-mean you– John!” Ben whines and buries his face into Homelander’s neck. The scent lingers strong there, making the throbbing between his legs begin once more.

“Not my fault you’re so fucking insatiable, babe. That’s on you.” He snorts a laugh. Homelander trails his hand to Benjamin’s lower back and rubs soft, soothing circles. “And no, I don’t know how long it lasts. I just snagged it from the labs and uhh… slathered it all over myself… And rolled it onto the covers.”

“I’m gonna kick your ass– but later,” the bug promises playfully. He slides his slicked core against Homelander’s thigh with languid rolls of his hips. “Just… Lemme–” If Homelander was somehow tired, then he’d just have to help himself. “Fuck... Thigh for now, dick later, okay?”

With a yawn, Homelander nods in agreement. “Deal.”

It was going to be a long night.

#homelander #homelander x oc #homelander smut #homelander fanfiction #antony starr #the boys #the boys fanfiction #spidersona oc #the boys smut #the boys homelander #the boys fanfic #the boys oc

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teeswrites · 4 months

Text

LN- All roads lead to you

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Masterlist

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

Disclaimer: contain smut!!

Chapter 5- Abu Dhabi

Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates (GST- UTC/GMT +4).

7:05 PM

As soon as the race ended, Lando turned off the engine of his car and turned on his own engine. There was no time left to congratulate Max or console Lewis. "Lando! Where are you going?" Charlotte shouted running after him "I have to go back to my hotel room" "What?! Why?!" "I must get on a plane in 50 minutes!" "He shouted back "You have what?! Lando, can you please wait for me?" he stopped to wait for her "Thanks" he started walking again "What do you mean by catching a plane?" "I am going to Santorini" "It's the last race you don't need to anticipate holidays" "I do have" "And can I know why?" "If I don't catch this plane, I won't be in Greece till today" "Why do you need to be in Greece that night?" "So she will not sleep with the Italian hot lad" "What?! Who?" "A girl who I used to go out with" "What's about her?" "I can't let her sleep with him" he said taking his racing suit off, she turned her back "She used to be your girlfriend?' "No" "So what do you have to do with her sexual life?" he stopped for a minute "Cause she was supposed to be with me" Charlotte felt his feelings "Lando…" "It's my fault" he continued to dress his regular clothes "She tried to take me out last week and I made up a ridiculous excuse" he finished dressing "Now I have to fix it" She turned to face him "I see that you have feelings for her, but…" he touched her shoulder "no Charlie, I just need to have her. Otherwise, I will drive insane" She took his hand off her shoulder, such a womanizer "... But, I can't let you" "I am going anyway" "Lando!" "Charlotte!" She breathed deeply "Please don't make anything ridiculous" he hugged her "Love you" "Love you too" and he ran to catch his plane.

5 and a half hours later

Santorini, Greece:

11:26 PM (EEST- UTC/GMT+3)

She looked bright in that golden party dress, even tho it was just a detail cause that night in Italy when she was wearing a rock band tee and ripped jeans shorts was proof she looked bright in every way.

She had a glass in her hands, probably not beer and definitely not zero alcohol cause she was gigglier than usual. For the first time since he had that idea, he froze, without being able to move his feet. What if it was a mistake? What if he would ruin her night? Nah. He couldn't think like that, it would be ridiculous and he promised Charlotte no ridiculous things. Also, once back to Woking, the lecturing for leaving at the end of the race would be unpleasantly waiting for him. And somehow she invited him, with those daring words 'if you were there'. He wasn't sure if it was an invitation or a challenge but he was about to do it anyway, no matter which was her real intention. Anyhow, he was there and she wouldn't have sex with the Italian model if he was there, right? Right! Or at least he hoped...

Even so, he didn't want to lose it, lose his time, lose his job, make Charlotte lose hers, had emitted tons of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere for no reason, he needed to be sure it all wasn't going to be in vain. So he decided to call her and see how things went. Actually, he should have called her before catching a plane to Greece, but it was already done, so fuck it.

He took a deep breath, tapped her name on contacts, and clicked on it, waiting anxiously for her to pick. To be fair, looking at her staring hesitantly at her phone, unsure of what she should do, made him even more anxious. But not as anxious as when she decided to pick up. So anxious he remained in silence for a few seconds "Hello?" he cleaned his throat, his voice sounding a bit different from usual "Hey..." "Is everything alright?" "Yeah! I... hum, just need you to do something for me" she sighed "Hi, Lando, how are you? It's nice to talk with you too" he sighed embarrassed, already blushing "Sorry... Hi, beautiful, how are you?" "Too late Lando, what do you need me to do?" "Don't sleep with the guy" she sniffed putting her drink down "Lando..." "Listen to me" she sighed, leaning on the bar counter consenting him the word "Go ahead" "I made a mistake" he continued "I agreed it all was done with you, but I am not a quitter, I am persistent, I work hard and I never stop until I achieve my goal, plus I hate to lose and I won't let you sleep with the other guy" he made a pause to accumulate some guts "I like you. And I want you and if missing all the last race of the year interviews and other stuff to tell you this isn't enough for you, just tell me what's and I will do it" "Did you miss all the interviews just for calling me?" Fuck, Lando! You and your big mouth "Hum... yeah!" "Why? I mean couldn't you just wait till it ended?" "No, I had... I have to know you're not with him when you're supposed to be with me" She chewed her inner cheek "You turned down my invitation the other day!" "I know but…" It has no 'but' she was right. He lost again and put his ass on the line for absolutely nothing, because he didn't have any morals and... she took a deep breath and admitted "You're enough already" Wow! shot-right-in-the-heart. "So why you're being so harsh?" "Because... I saw this movie over and over, and it always has the same end: you guys say those beautiful things, my heart melts, I feel bad for seeing you humiliating yourselves over me and I bend up. And as soon as you have an orgasm, the cursing is over, Guys like you get out of trance and fall back to reality. And guess what? They remember about the girl who is in fact special to them and, damn, I don't like it, fuck! I want to be enough for you as much as you are for me. And not only sexually, do you understand me?" he felt bad for her, it wasn't right to be treated like that and he knew it. Oh, he knew it "Just please don't sleep with him" "I…" " I promise we will talk about it all next time we meet" She took a pause to breathe deeply, he didn't dare to look at her, scared of seeing her expression, how much pain he was causing her " "Okay" she gave up. He smiled "Okay" he repeated softly, she was overwhelmed of course and she wanted to cry, he could tell due to her breath sound, so he aligned his shirt's collar and walked towards her.

Apart from the butterflies throwing a party in his stomach, he felt good and confident. His clothes were nice and he tried as much as he could not think about how screwed he would be if it didn't work, but he remained strong, touching her shoulder softly "Don't cry" he demanded, she turned around confused, taking her phone away from her ear, she couldn't believe "Lando…" "Hi!" he smiled "Hold those tears back, miss" he said calmly ending the phone call and rubbing a tear drop from her face, leaving glitter on his thumb "How... What are you doing here?" "I came here to do it" he pulled her for a hug, a strong, full of feelings hug "I am sorry" he whispered against her skin "You came here to hug me?" he pulled his face back just to look at her, still in shock "Yeah" he affirmed, confident. She smiled "And this" he pulled her to a kiss, an intense kiss, that made her relax for the first time since she started to drink thinking about the McLaren's driver; "Take me out of here" she muttered against his lips "Okay" he took her hand and guided the big mess he made her become away from the bar, away from the crowd, and mainly away from the good looking Italian guy, to where they could be only the two of them, to where she didn't have to hide the amazing person she was and fake to be another one, where she could eat pizza and watch k-dramas in comfortable clothes, where he could sleep like a baby, laid on her full-of-pizza belly after 3 months of zero quality sleep and jet lag effect.

He was so lost in those good memories that he didn't even notice the rushed pace he got, she giggled "Wait, wait, wait" bringing him back to reality "What's wrong?" she took her golden Jimmy Cho high heels off and he noticed how much he liked her small stature, smiling at her "What are you doing?" "Now I can follow your pace" "Sorry" "No, is fine. I love to have my bare feet" he looked at her small, princess feet on the stone stairs 'so adorable' "In this case, you're welcome" she giggled 'Fuck! He was crushed on a freaking smurf' "All good?" "All good" "So let's go" he bounced the stairs down, with her glued on him, tugging them to the hotel elevator, where he kissed her again.

...

In the hotel room, where they ripped off each other's clothes, the moonlight was the only flash of light coming from the half-open window. She had her back laid on the mattress, her hips widely open, knees parted at its extreme, with his athletic body between her thighs, filling her cervix with himself. The sound of "Lan..." she let slip from her lips, without being able to finish, still unsure if due to the cutting hard breath or the sudden electricity sparkling inside her core every time he moved, even for a millimeter, or breathed, or made a sound, or sweated, or looked at her, anything.

She moaned slowly, in a low tone, more like a whine, she wanted to pay more attention to the sounds they made together, the sounds coming from him. Suddenly the forearms on each side of her frame flexed up, his weight concentrated on his palms, his sweaty, still firm tho, hands slid down and had a strong, soft grip on her ribs, lifting half of her body, lowering half of his till he got sit with her on his lap. They didn't need to say it loud out, it felt like a performance they presented too many times already. She started to move her hips, knees working, flexing up and down, hips making circles, rubbing her body up and down his abdomen. Her messy bun tight on the top of her head will get stuck in his mind for the following weeks. He placed a hand on it and undone her hair, throwing the elastic away from the bed, she shook her hair, making it slide down to her neck and shoulders. He looked into his eyes, which have been avoiding during the whole time they were inside that room, and she looked back, regretting instantly, cause his eyes told her earlier about luxury and then were talking about pleasure, both things which shouldn't exist between them in her perception.

She slowed the pace of the riding, forcing him to say or do something. "Faster" he said among the heavy breaths. She dried a few sweat drops on his face "I don't want to" he looked into her eyes again "What do you want, then?" "You to do something about it". Sadic, he thought "Fine" he took himself out of her and turned her hips 180 degrees suddenly, placing her belly on the mattress. He placed one knee on each side of her legs and slightly pressed her body against the sheets, getting inside of her again. The bed muffled her sounds, so he bent forward to ask, low and sexy on her ear "Hands and knees, princess. I want to hear you" She smirked and obeyed his demand, becoming scandalous when he started the thrustings. She didn't need to fake it, she felt it all, out loud, to everyone who wanted to listen, but doing it for him to listen only, that was the important thing, the reason why. He pulled her body up to him, moaning on her ear, thrusting roughly. She placed one hand on his nape and pulled his hair as she felt the explosion before they cum on each other.

...

Later:

They were laid on the bed having pillow talk

"I think you are more than enough" "Really?" "If I didn't why would I come here against my superior's orders at the last race of the year? I could find sex in anyone else but you are the only you" She raised an eyebrow "What about Dubai?" Freaking Katerina "How do you know about it?" "It was all over socials" She was right "Anyway, didn't you hear the 'against my superiors orders' and 'at the end of the calendar' part?" she chuckled "Okay" "You look adorable when you are drunk" "Slightly tipsy" "Slightly tipsy?" "Uhum" "Sure" he muttered caressing her hair "Lewis says that's my automatic answer for when someone asks me if I'm drunk" "You and Lewis are good friends aren't you?" He asked casually "Yeah" she answered indifferently, enjoying the hair caressing "He knows how to value a friendship. Maybe..." she yawned "Maybe I can have the same thoughts about you someday. Except that I don't want to be friends only" he smiled "I know that you will" "I hope..." Then she fell asleep with the soft movements he was making on her hair. And while he watched her calm and soft expression he found himself desperate and anxious. He stopped the caressing slowly, taking a lot of caution for not waking her up. Then he stepped out of the bed to grab his phone and left for the hotel lobby. Wearing his beige shorts, hotel flip-flops, and his unbuttoned white shirt. A few people looked at him on his way to the elevator, whispering and giggling to each other but he didn't care, he was too angst for it.

...

Carlos was sleeping deeply. The snorting denounced him. Nothing could break that majestic oneiric experience. Nothing except his old teammate. He struggled to open his eyes and when he finally did he picked up the phone, angry "Qué putas horas crees que son aquí? (what fucking hours do you think is here?)" "What!? No, Carlos, that's not time for Spanish classes" the Spanish man looked at the clock on his side table "That's right. It's 3 in the morning! It's no time for speaking Spanish or any language at all. It's time for fucking sleeping!" "I know, I know, but..." "What?!" "I am panicking" Carlos sat on his bed, concerned "What happened, bro?" "I... I hit on two girls at the same time" "Two only?" Carlos said indifferent as he was used to that behavior of Lando "Well, it had a few more. But those two especially" "What's new about it?" "I think I have feelings for them both" "Hum, that's new. You are never in love with anyone..." "I haven't said this word!" Carlos continued as he never was interrupted "... And now you are in love with two simultaneously" Lando rolled his eyes "Yeah..." "That's why you are panicking?" "I don't know what to do" "Pick one" "Isn't that simple" "Which of them do you like the most?" "How am I supposed to know?!" "Which of them do you think is more interesting?" "They both are interesting" "The prettiest?" "They both are pretty. And hot" "Which one do you like to spend more time with?" "I don't know! I... Carlos, stop asking questions! I don't know the answers!" "Right. Which of them would you put your hand on fire for?" "None. I choose my hand" "Not literally, stupid. I mean take risks, do stupid things, ruin your career for, I don't know, something like that..." Finally a good question. He knew for which one he had done all of those things already "That one I know the answer" "Do you really?" Carlos asked surprised "Yes. Thanks for your help, man. It was very useful" "You're welcome?" "Have a good night. Bye" "Bye..." Carlos didn't think that he was very useful. In fact, if he was the one receiving the advice he gave to Lando he would only get more confused "Bueno. Ahora puedo volver a mío sueño (Good. Now I can back to my dream)".

...

Lando entered the room trying not to wake her up. He stood there watching the serenity of her sleep. He would kill for sleeping like that. The door didn't wake her up but his loud thoughts did. She opened her eyes slightly before sitting on the bed. She rubbed her eyes, sleepy "What's up?" "I..." He approached the bed sitting at the side next to hers "I had Carlos on the phone" he pointed to his iPhone "At 3am?" "Yeah" "Is everything okay?" He took a deep breath "No" she tried to touch his hand but he retreated "What's wrong?" "I can't go out with you anymore" Her bright faded away, as she was made of sugar and his words were water. He was ready for her screaming with him and throwing the whole hotel room in his head, but she just chuckled, sarcastic, bitter "Why it doesn't impress me?" "Look... I just can't" "You just can't" She shook her head, turning her back to him "I should have never slept with you" She walked away from him, and he followed "Wait..." "Why? Why did you come till here and look for trouble if you knew it would hurt me? I let it very clear I couldn't handle this right now" "Because I couldn't let you sleep with the good looking Italian!" she hit him with the pillow softly "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!? IS THIS A COMPETITION NOW!?" "I haven't said that" "Unfortunately I like you not him, idiot. My life would be a lot easier if I had a crush on Giaro, not on you" and he knew it was true it was written on her wavy eyes "I..." she waited for him to say something, at least try to fix the chaos he started, but nothing came, he just didn't know what to say. She threw herself on the sofa and covered her face with the pillow "If that's all, please leave my hotel room" "I..." "Just leave now and never talk to me again, yes?" he tried again "Please don't be mad at me" she looked at him "I can't believe you!" "Please..." "Get out!" She got into the bathroom and closed the door. He was about to try to talk with her, say sorry for what he'd done, but a text popped on his phone screen. It wasn't the boss, Charlotte, Carlos, Max, or Daniel, but was her. The other her

'Missing you'

That was what the text said. He grabbed his stuff from the bedroom floor, his phone and wallet, wore his white Nike airs, and as fast as he got there, he was out. The text was a coincidence only. He had already made up his mind at the hotel lobby. He promised Charlotte not to do stupid things but unfortunately, he let her down "It's better Charlie doesn't find out" he thought.

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

Taglist:

@cmleitora

#f1 #l4ndo #lando norris #lando norris f1 #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #smut #f1 smut #lando norris smut

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bookished · 11 months

Note

Can I kindly request dialogue prompts for mutual suffering heart break ❤️‍🩹

MUTUAL SUFFERING HEARTBREAK PROMPTS

feel free to make edits to better suit your muse, but please don’t edit or add on to the original post 💛 tag me when you use any!

"We're both shattered, and I wish I could mend your broken pieces, but I don't know how to fix myself either."

"It's like we burned too bright, and now we're both left in the ashes."

"I wish I could turn back time and save us from all this pain."

"We both have our reasons for breaking each other's hearts, but I can't help but miss you."

"I miss you too, even though I know we're both better off apart."

"I know the feeling. It's like we've ruined each other for anyone else."

"I often wonder where we went wrong, how we ended up here."

"It's strange how our love story turned into a tragedy."

"We had dreams, plans... and now they're just broken pieces of what could have been."

"Our future together crumbled into what-ifs and maybes."

"Our harmony turned into dissonance, and I miss the music we once made."

"I thought time would heal our wounds, but it's only made the scars deeper."

"Time has this cruel way of making us remember what we're trying to forget."

"Your absence haunts me, even in the moments when I wish I could forget."

"Sometimes I imagine parallel universes where we got our happy ending."

"I wish we could have found a way to save us, to rewrite our story."

"We were so sure we'd be the exception, but we became the rule, another story of heartbreak."

"I never thought I'd say this, but I miss the pain of loving you more than the emptiness without you."

"The pain was a reminder that I was alive, that we were something."

"Maybe one day, we'll look back on this and it won't hurt as much."

Did you find this useful? Please, consider sending me feedback or buying me a coffee. If you would like to request something (either advice or a piece of a story) for me to write it, go and message me. Also, if you'd like, you can check my masterlist. Happy writing!

#prompts #dialogue prompts #uservolkova #dialogue prompt #story prompts #writing prompts #writing prompt #fanfic prompt #prompt list #romance prompts #heartbreak prompts

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hbojoel · 1 year

Note

hii e it’s lovesick anon here! im about to nap but i hope ur roadtrip goes ok :o) my thought for today is that richie loves praise (i was thinking nonsexually but i think he probably likes it in every context) especially when you call him something stupid like ur “knight in shining armor” and ur “hero” even if it’s for something mundane like bringing groceries in or giving u ur drink of choice in the morning

ITS ABOUT FEELING PURPOSE AND FEELING NEEDED ‼️‼️

HI BB TY I HOPE UR NAP IS GOOD :D

aghhh!!! i love this so much. i'm such a my man my man my mannnnn person and i think that would suit richie so well. he really does need to feel like he is fit for something. that he's appreciated. i think his first love language is words of affirmation and then his second one is acts of service or quality time. words do a lot for him, sometimes they fix everything, but it's like the intent is doubled when you match your words up to your actions. he loves doing stuff for you just bc he thinks he should. but after you kind of grow out of the "babe you didn't have to do that, i could've helped" and realize this is something he needs, you big him up. BIG TIME. theatrical gasps when he brings in 15 bags of groceries in one trip, hand on his bicep, cooing "my big strong man" or if he carries your heels for you at the end of a night out, gives you his jacket if it's raining so your hair doesn't get ruined, or sits down with you bc your feet hurt too much. "my knight in shining armor. i could not live without you."

and richie shrugs it off bc of Course he does, chuckling and saying "that's what i'm here for" but he really takes it to heart.

i think consideration is one of the biggest acts of love there is, so picture like you're stressed working on a project, or packing to go see family, or just caught up in something that you can't take your nose out of. he'll just slip in the room with your favorite iced coffee and a muffin, leave it on your desk and drop a kiss on your forehead, silently making sure you're still taking care of yourself. and when you feel his lips on your skin you look up and notice all that he brought you. "ugh, you are perfect. you're a lifesaver." you lean up to meet him in a sweet kiss and you can feel him smiling into it.

i love my boy

#e talks #answered #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich x you #the bear #the bear fx

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leupagus · 10 months

Text

It's all fun and games until Hardy reminds everyone he is an undead eldritch horror

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

She put Daisy's remark about "true love's promise" out of her head for the next few days, pushing hard against the case; against Katie Harford and her stupid certainty; against Tom and his stupid certainty; against Hardy himself, although that was about as effective as punching a brick wall. Besides, he was looking bedraggled enough without her nagging.

It was a different sort of bedraggled than she'd seen during the Latimer case, or Sandbrook. There was none of the stretched-thin-ness, as though he were about to give out at a moment's notice. Now it was a coiling sort of tension in his movements, as though he were waiting for the chance to strike. It might have bothered her once; but sat across the table from Leo Humphries as he proudly recalled all the women he'd terrorised, the brutality he'd forced on young Michael Lucas, she was almost impatient for it to start.

And then it did.

"Makes you feel in control," Humphries said, smiling and serene. Ellie watched him closely and hardly noticed the room darkening, as though the lights had been submerged. The shushing pulse of the sea, never far off, grew louder. "For that moment, there's nothing else. Just you in charge. There's a moment where you're in harmony with the world, and it's just… beautiful."

"It is, isn't it," said Hardy. Ellie'd been focused on Humphries throughout the interview, his lawyer and Hardy on the edges of her vision, so it wasn't until the lawyer gasped that she realised something was wrong. She looked over at Hardy, who—

But he wasn't a who, in that moment. The thing next to her shifted and pulled at Hardy's bones from within, skin stretched and sagging in ways no living creature could withstand. And then it stood up, taller than Hardy; taller than the ever-shrinking room, stooped and looming.

"Power over someone, it's such a pleasure," it hissed. The cups of half-drunk water began to bubble and seethe; the recorder made a ghastly hissing noise and sparked out. "Someone pathetic and helpless, who can't even scream for help."

The lawyer made a dive for the door but Hardy was too quick for Humphries, arms twisting as they stretched across the room to pin him into a corner with one blue-grey hand clapped over his mouth, its fingers blackened with rot.

"But there's greater pleasures than that, Leo Humphries," said Hardy, through a mouth ruined and twisted, the jaw hanging at an unnatural angle. (Not unnatural, of course — nothing more natural than than a corpse.) "You can have all of them. I'll show you every one. Do you want that, Leo Humphries? Just ask me."

The hand lifted away and Humphries collapsed to the ground. "Please," he babbled, trying to crawl still further away, though there was nowhere left to go. "Please, please, no—"

Ellie was on her feet, grabbing at the thing beside her; even as she did she wondered why. What she could possibly do? Did she even want to? Wasn't this what she'd imagined — the rapist forced to endure horrors, fear and pain, with no hope of escape.

But instead it was Hardy who pulled himself back. Slowly, like the receding of the tide, the room expanded and lightened until it was real again. Ellie now held handfuls of cheap suit jacket, and Hardy's form contracted and folded in on itself until he looked almost, very nearly, human.

The door, still open from when the lawyer had escaped, fell off its hinges and landed with a clatter on the floor.

"You just had to ask," Hardy said, as Humphries shivered in the corner.

It was well past dawn by the time the paperwork was done. IT assured her that the confession had been recorded, even if there'd been a glitch toward the end of the interview that fried the device. The accused had been remanded to custody and his lawyer had requested a transfer — she was moving to be nearer her mum and dad, she said, in Northumberland. "I don't think I'll ever be back here," she said, her smile waxy and fixed. "Not ever. My firm will be in touch to provide him with new counsel."

Ellie finally left the station with enough time to get home and help the boys get ready for school, before going over to Trish's and telling her the news. Instead she sat down on the front steps, breathing carefully in and out and trying not to cry, or vomit, or scream.

He followed her, of course he did. Was she supposed to be afraid of him now? She'd been afraid of people before, even with her badge and her taser. For the past few years she'd been afraid of her own husband, though not as afraid as she'd been of herself. But as Hardy came closer she felt her heart unclench, the furious grief in her stomach dissolve.

"Ed Burnett's gone," he said. "And Jim Atwood." He paused; she could picture him now, looking down at her. "You okay?"

What a question. "No."

Hardy sat beside her, uncomfortable and comforting. "We have him now. That footage will send him down."

He was right; even if the confession didn't hold, even if Michael tried to change his story, those horrific videos had a solid chain of custody. Leo Humphries would stay in prison a long time.

Not long enough.

"He is not what men are," Hardy said. "He's an aberration."

"Is that what you are?" she asked, finally looking at him. "In there. Was that the real you?"

He didn't seem angry or offended. "It's all the real me, Miller."

"Is that why you told me about the iron and the wood and the ashes and everything?" She curled further into herself. "So if you go too far, I can—"

"I'd hope you'd arrest me first," he said. "Or at least talk to the Chief Super." When she didn't say anything, he shook his head. "It's my responsibility to not go too far, Miller. Not yours or anyone else's. Just mine."

"Then why tell me?"

"Because I trust you," Hardy said, as though it were simple as that.

Perhaps it was.

She untucked her hand from under her arm. He didn't move away as she put her hand to his jaw; the skin was cool and damp, as though he'd been standing too close to the spray of the ocean. "I don't know if you should," she said, holding back a shiver. It was too cold for June. Hardy's doing, maybe. Summers before him had been warm and grey, full of lazy mornings on the beach interrupted by a friendly pattering of rain. But there wasn't a cloud in the sky today. "I don't know if I'm worth it."

"You are," Hardy said, his voice low and soft, barely louder than the wind. The stubble on his cheek rasped against her palm.

Ellie shook her head. "I would've let you kill him. I think I even wanted it." She let her hand drop. "But I trust you, too." It felt like a confession. Or a promise.

#it's at 7K now btw #lmaooo fuck my LIFE #me @ God: really? this is what I've been inspired to write for the first time in a month? REALLY?#broadchurch fic #broadchurch motherfuckers

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paragonrobits · 11 months

Text

I'm exploring a few different ideas for a fic that ultimately focuses around the idea of damaged people from ruined worlds or little left to go back to coming together in the form of Farmworld Finn surviving his battle with the Scarab and traveling to Vampire World to continue the good fight in a way that matters to him while his kids get to grow up somewhere safe; there, he meets up with Vampire World Bonnibel, and they team up to fix things as best as possible, possibly even following their worlds merging as a result of cosmic auditors noting that their worlds are otherwise untidy enough and better suited mashed together

But its not enough to just have Princess Bubblegum, Finn the human and Jake the dog together again; there is a FOURTH member of that found family. It's not complete without Marceline, adopted Petrikov. But the Marceline of that world is... perhaps, too far gone. A corruption of the Marcy we know and love. Redemption is for her, perhaps not IMPOSSIBLE, but certainly something outside the scope of what I want to do. But you know one possibility?

The unknown fate of the original Marceline of Winter King's world. And one potential vibe I have for why she might be angry at Winter King even after his death and the source of some complex feelings, and what Ice Marceline actually was, can all be summed up by a relevant panel of Protoman from the Mega Man comics:

Winter King Marceline raises a LOT of questions and open ideas.

We don't have anything to go on, besides the fact that an Ice Marceline acting as a play replica implies that she is either gone or Winter King THINKS she's gone. Betty is also dead, or that Winter King believes she is. So here's my idea; the Marceline of that world IS still alive, but quite different from mainline Adventure Time world; I propose that she actually occupies a similar role to Magic Woman Betty, as a magically powerful wizard who has done complicated things and even acted as an antagonist in her desperate attempts to save Winter King from himself, but in the end it was too late, and she couldn't save him.

The idea I have is that for various reasons, she is not connected to the Finn of her world or Princess Bubblegum; its likely that if they ever knew each other, the circumstances behind her Simon's death and his crimes against that PB left her with a very severe conflict of loyalties and was ultimately too distanced from either; its not impossible that at some point she MIGHT return to them, but I'm thinking that the mode her is that these are people who were meant on some level to unite in the Finn/PB/Marceline family triangle, but due to accidents of fate or bad circumstances, it didn't turn out that way.

In this case, that particular part of the eternal recurrance did NOT work out for them, but through the actions of Fionna and Simon bringing other worlds together, they have a chance to start anew; Magic Marceline comes to vampire world and meets up with them, deciding that she can at least fix SOMETHING even if she can't save the man that used to be her father.

This take on her draws much more on her demonic nature; her soul sucking powers have been honed so that she's stolen magical power from others with the intent of ultimately trying to find a way to do the same with the Ice Crown without harming Simon in the process, and she's garnered a bunch of different wizard powers that let her do the sort of things Marceline can otherwise do. This version of her most likely looks more human, similar to Marshall Lee in Fionna's world; not sure why yet but maybe she has actively altered her appearance to distance herself further from her father, or she simply looked more like her mother here.

As another detail on how warped and tragic the dynamic of Winter King was, I'm also thinking that her relationship with him was full of conflicts leaving her feeling tremendously messed up; she loved him but she hated what he'd become, she known for a while there was not coming back from what he'd done but she still tried so hard, and in the end he deliberately forgot her in favor of an illusion of the child she once was.

#marceline #winter king marceline #magic marceline #tag for this take on her right there!#adventure time #fionna and cake #fic ideas #ideas #queued

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ink-flavored · 3 months

Note

for pride and justice: 3, 4, 16, 19

thank you!! yay i get to talk about Them <3

3. What were their first impressions of each other? How does that compare to their impressions of each other now?

Justice's first impression of Pride was "oh no a demon is trying to get through the gates, I have to stop him!" and Pride's first impression of Justice was "oh fuck i'm getting chased by an angel that's not good!" So. They had an interesting meet-cute.

They go from that to "annoyed but stuck together because they're on the run" to "begrudging respect that I will not admit is care" on Pride's end and "genuine desire to understand" on Justice's end, all the way to "gay love ride or die forever."

4. How would they describe each other if asked? Physically? In personality?

Pride, about Justice: "Tall. Obnoxiously tall. Long hair. And the rest of him is like... cherub-face. Not, like, baby face, but you know. Round. Soft. The smiley approachable type. Absolutely no edge, except when he's swinging the sword around. And he does it in the living room, which is probably the worst idea he's had since chasing me down to Earth. Although I guess I get a bit of a show, with the whole swordsman's body thing, so it's not totally annoying. And he's got freckles everywhere...

Anyway. Uh, he's nice! Kind of too nice, if you ask me. He doesn't know when to quit it with that shit, you let him do one nice thing and it's like he can't stop. I can't even count how many times we've had to stop in the middle of the street to let him fix some rando's problem. Even the other angels got sick of him, which... would be funnier if it wasn't my fault, I guess. Don't tell him I said that.

Justice tries way too hard. He can't stop trying too hard. It's kinda scary? I don't really give a shit if he wants to spend all his free time playing guardian angel, but you start to feel bad for the guy. It's like he can't turn off the little voice that tells him Big G is gonna be soooo mad if he doesn't meet his Virtue Quota. It makes being a demon seem like the better option.

I don't know. He needs to get a little more selfish. Prideful, even. Don't tell him I said that either."

Justice, about Pride: "Pride is colorful, in language and mannerisms. He always wears the flashiest thing he can find, I honestly can't tell if he's going to the store or going to a bar with his friends most days. It's... a lot, but also wonderful in it's own way. I don't think there are a lot of people who are even half that confident about their style as he is. I like his piercings, too, they really suit him. And the goatee, messy hair—he's very rough around the edges, and I think it's on purpose that he looks the part.

I wish we got along better, honestly. I think—I know he's been hurt a lot in his life, so I don't blame him for being distant with me. We're from completely opposite worlds, after all. I just hope he isn't so driven by his pain that he thinks he can't heal from it.

Pride is so angry, and it really breaks my heart sometimes. I don't want to say that to him, because I know he'll take it the wrong way, but it's just how I feel. It's awful that he's had to go through so much alone. He doesn't ask for help because he thinks can't trust anybody but himself.

I wish he would trust me. Again, I don't know how to say that without coming off like I pity him. I just want him to be okay. I'm not sure if he knows I can feel his pain, but... I want to help make it stop."

16. Is one of them keeping secrets from the other? Why? How would they react if the secret was revealed?

For a long time, Pride was keeping the secret that he'd literally die if his demon contract couldn't be fulfilled. At first, it was because he didn't want an angel to know his one fatal weakness, but the longer it went the more he just... didn't want to think about it. "I will ignore the problem and then it'll go away," type. He didn't want to ruin this perfect never-before-experienced love by reminding himself and admitting to Justice how much danger he's truly in. He eventually reveals it himself, but if it had been discovered early he would have panicked and tried to flee the situation (he would fail)

Justice's secret is that he used to be very emo teenager (or the angel equivalent of a teenager anyway). He's keeping this secret because it's so so embarrassing. When Kindness reveals this secret to Pride behind his back the first thing he does is crumble into a pile of dust.

19. Are they satisfied with their relationship? Do they wish they were closer/more distant?

For a long time, Pride fought the idea that he even wanted to be friends with Justice. He didn't want to admit he wanted an angel to like him, it felt like debasing himself. At the same time, he had so many feelings about Justice that would not let him be normal. When they get together, the only thing Pride wants is for them to be physically attached at the hip so he can have attention whenever he wants.

Justice was far more able to accept how he felt about Pride, but kept it to himself because he thought Pride wouldn't want him that way. He did secretly yearn for a deeper friendship, if nothing else, because he could tell there was more to Pride than what he saw on the surface. When it turns out Pride wants him back, he is more than happy to spend every day of the rest of his life at his side. So they're both pretty satisfied with that!

[send me a couple ask]

#annika talks #answered #ask game #Pride #Justice #P&J #Pride & Justice

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knullanon · 2 years

Note

Hey can I request a stars wars obi-wan platonic with reader

a/n: I'm gonna try to add in more characters than the ones I'm thinking about so have some platonic headcannons

words: 1181

warnings: kind of stalking?, lmk if I missed any!

I can't see him finding someone he really cares about anywhere besides the temple, especially considering the fact of how many padawans there were during the war with their own squadrons and stuff

he probably found you through someone else, through a meet up with a different battalion for a certain mission. or maybe he found out about you through just walking through the temple.

either way, he gets intrigued by something. you're fighting style? your personality? just something about you puts him off, not in a "I should be suspicious of this person", but in a "why is this person like this?"

after whatever mission or meeting is over, he will continue to pursue you. at first, you thought it was just because he found you suspicious. did he think you were working with the CIS? you really hoped not, after all, he is on the council. was he trying to get you kicked out?

while your panicking over your loyalties and how you can prove him wrong (if he even is thinking that way, which we know he isn't), obi wan is just trying to figure out how he can either elevate you to a position where he can talk more freely with you, or convince you that he's needs your help again for another mission.

of course, while it's in his mind, he really doesn't want to use lethal force against your master just to become your master. he knows there are better ways at solving this, so he has to come up with a plan.

he decides that maybe he shouldn't be fully alone in his thoughts, and while he doesn't tell anakin the full story, he does say that he has a few worries about your master, and how he thinks you would be better suited as his padawan.

while anakin is skeptical, especially since you were only almost a year and a half until becoming a jedi knight, but is convinced when obi wan brings up the fact that even he was deemed to late to bring into the order.

so through some bullshit and possibly funny hijinks between obi wan and anakin, your master is put out of the game. whether thats because he was critically injured, or if they actually just killed him, or (what probably ends up happening) is ruining his reputation so bad that it's the order that kicks them out.

while your panicking even more because who would want a padawan who's former master got kicked out of the order, obi wan is able to convince the council he could take you under his lineage. while the council was originally planning on giving you to plo koon, they are totally cool with obi wan taking over.

I mean, it's obi wan, why the hell should they worry?

after you hear of obi wans plan you're relieved. you can continue your training without the worry of the stigma to you caused by your former master, and your new master is one who's revered by the whole temple! of course you wouldn't say no.

after you've been accepted under obi wan, everything becomes more mellowed out. every worry you've had you've been able to talk with obi wan about, every single issue you've had with lightsabers has been fixed by him. you're so happy that everything has worked out.

anakin, while suspicious, doesn't say anything on the fact that obi wan seems too happy that everything has worked out. in fact, he forgets about his doubts because he realizes that he likes to spar with you.

and obi wan? obi wan is just happy everything has worked out so well. he's much more stricter than other masters, and definitely not as lenient as anakin and ahsoka, but he's not like c'baoth strict.

anytime that there's a battle, and he doesn't know where you are exactly, it worries him. in fact, it's one of the things he's confided in you, so you try your best to stay nearby, even if it does hamper your own training.

he also gets worried about when you aren't nearby him in general. for example, you remember one time when you and ahsoka were somewhere in a town during a mission, you had forgotten to answer his one com message, and when you finally checked you comm, there was a bunch of missed calls. while you immediately commed him back, it did make you start to ask him permission for things.

another thing that you found weird, or 'overbearing', was he was very against you fighting enemies alone, as well. even if they were just small time soldiers or bounty hunters, he would ask of you to try and avoid confrontations as a whole.

one time, when you and ahsoka were sparring, he saw ahsoka almost hit you with (what he assumed to be) a spare piece of metal that was put up against the wall with the force. while you obviously dodged and sliced it in half, he gave both of you a warning and told you not to do that again, unless it was under an order.

while all of it was more stricter and harsh than your former master, or any master in general, it wasn't like you were going to leave because of a few rules he wanted you to follow! besides, they weren't as bad as compared to others, like c'boath.

however, one day, while you're waiting for obi wan to finish something on a mission, someone approaches you and asks to talk to you. while you're apprehensive, your alarm bells start ringing as soon as you see it's your former master.

you were going to walk away, until they tell you that they weren't there to plead their case to you. that caught your attention. you turned back around, and while you were still suspicious, you let them talk.

they told you about after the first mission with obi wan, they told you about how obi wan was always approaching them about you. while originally they thought it was because he didn't like you, he soon realized it was something much bigger than that.

before he could get any further, anakin and ahsoka appear, and that scares off your former master. while they hurry off, anakin and ahsoka are just as confused as you.

while your relationship with obi wan doesn't change really, at all, it's something that keeps in your mind even as you can't seem to find your former master anywhere.

eventually, you give up the hunt after a while of dead ends. there is no point in finding out something that doesn't seem to exist. maybe they were trying to plead their case, but in a way that demonized obi wan.

overall, obi wan isn't the worst person to have looking over your shoulder, as he's not so overbearing it's increasingly noticeable, and he treats his issues not with other people, but with you. however, he does get rid of anything and everything that could lead to people discovering the true reason why you even became his padawan.

~~~

man I have to start doing other fandoms this was kinda fun

#yandere obi wan kenobi #yandere obi wan kenobi imagine #yandere obi wan kenobi x reader #yandere star wars #yandere star wars x reader #yandere star wars imagine #yandere platonic #yandere platonic imagine #yandere platonic x reader

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inafieldofdaisies · 11 months

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WIP Wednesday | Tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat

This Wednesday we have more of John's misadventures from his and Sabrina's AU as a treat. Starting up with a little snippet involving her mother, then moving onto his arrival for an impromptu dinner. Don't ask what happens inbetween to rattle the gremlin, that bit is still under construction.

Upon the call's end, John dropped his phone on the bed, finding himself unable to wipe off the grin that had taken over his face despite the noises next door continuing, and that only grew wider at the new message notification as he finally took out his newly purchased clothes from the bags he had spent a good while ignoring. "Wearing the suit from today again is out of the question.", he reasoned to himself while laying down pieces of clothing on his bed. He wasn't one to women's houses for 'dinner'. Hell, he usually avoided invitations like those like the plague, choosing to spend the night in a neutral place for both parties instead. His current predicament was definitely throwing him for a loop, especially since he had no idea what she'd greet him in. The thought Sabrina might not even have been asking him over for food made him forget the task at hand for a beat. "No. She insisted it's not like that. But what if… what if it is?", his eyes narrowed at the wicked possibility just when something crashed loudly in 310, putting an end to his embarrassingly long attempt at deciding what to wear, "Focus. And you can't sleep with her anyway, Duncan." The last part came off in a tone matching Clive's, yet the reminder did little to banish the desire within him. He settled for a dark gray wool suit and quickly decided to forego the matching vest and tie to go with them. Underneath, he threw on a simple dress shirt with a couple of buttons unbuttoned at the top since he still felt he could breathe easier without anything snaking around his neck like his father's iron grip from the olden days. "Don't think of them. It just makes you feel worse after.", John hated how his voice shook as he regarded himself in the bathroom mirror and did his best to focus on styling his hair in place instead of entertaining memories that belonged in the past.

"You're twisted, wrong. But we can fix it. You won't turn into a disappointment, John.", the words materialized on their own, a deafening cacophony of his parents voices that threatened to hang over him as a dark cloud. He slammed the bathroom door, set on leaving them back there to keep company on the persisting grunts of his neighbors, refusing to let anything ruin whatever his night with Sabrina would bring. On his way out, he grabbed his coat and came to an abrupt halt at the heels sounding in the hallway as he anticipated an unpleasant run-in with a certain redhead. When both the silence aside from the couple's usual noises and a look through the peephole hinted at the coast being clear for him to make his escape, he promptly exited his room and for once luck seemed to be on his side with the elevator remaining empty. The ride down to the lobby seemed to last an eternity and the second the doors opened, he was greeted by another unpleasant sight: the brunette that had checked him in on his first night was deep in animated conversation with another employee, both appearing completely oblivious to his approach as she let out a sigh after saying way too loudly, "He called to complaing about the noise like dozen times. I don't know what he expected me to do, and I swear, Lucas, anytime 310 would pick up, they were still doing it while talking to me." "Shit.", the man whispered before asking, "When are they checking out? Do you think it maybe turns them on to have an audience?" "I don't know. But I'm not paid enough for any of this. Let alone being forced to listen to a man half-talking, half-moaning over the phone. I've never wanted to hang up more." "Want me to go get you something sweet?", a hand grasped hers, and she finally cracked a smile at the suggestion. "At least I have you here." John shook his head at the display of affection and blantant discussion of guests out in the open, drawing closer to the two and clearing his throat to grab their attention.

The gleam in the receptionist's eyes evaporated when they moved to his and she quickly shook off her collegue's hold, smile dropping for a second before she forced it again. "Good evening, Mr. Duncan", the name made the man spin around and echo her greeting with narrowed gaze. "I will be right back, Jules." She nodded despite looking like she wanted anything but for him to leave all of a sudden. "Good evening.", John muttered evenly as he leaned against the reception desk. "Is 310 still giving you trouble? I'm really sorry about-" "Yes. For two hours now, miss.", he cut off her apology, "But I'm not here because of that." If he didn't have other plans, John's next course of action would have been to ruin her night like his had been, especially after the way nothing had actually been done to ensure the noises from the room next to his would cease. Not to mention gossiping about me to your colleague. Still, for once he pushed down the urge to put someone in their place with Penny's drunken call fresh on his mind, trying to imagine how Sabrina would take on the situation. With kindness, most certainly.

His words seemed to put her at ease a little, "Oh, I truly am sorry to hear that, sir. How can I assist you then?" "I need you to call a car for me." She reached for one of the hotel phones, "Cab or personal driver?" "Whatever would get here faster." She nodded and dialed a number, talking in a hushed voice into the receiver as his baby blues shifted to the hotel's entrance, giddiness making his body feel lighter. "30 minutes for a driver, sir. Would you like me to call you a cab in that case?", the news were a proverbial cold shower to the desire he felt at the thoughts of Sabrina, and he took a deep breath before facing the woman as she held the phone to her ear, clearly waiting for his answer. "I-" "Mr. Duncan.", heels sounded behind him before Candice Donovan was at his side, standing way too close for his liking. If he had to guess she was doing a little observing on her own, just like he had done minutes prior. "A cab.", he replied hurriedly, before turning to her and mirroring her smile, taking note of the expression she wore even better than the no doubt expensive dress that peeked through her unbuttoned coat. He had no doubt what it harbored. Intent to strike. "Nonsense, darling.", a hand landed on his forearm when she addressed the woman across them, "Julie, no cab would be needed." "I'm-" "My driver is waiting out front, Mr. Duncan. I will be more than happy to drop you off wherever you need to be.", her sweeter than honey tone put him on edge. "I appreaciate the suggestion, but-" She cocked her head, "I don't bite, Mr. Duncan. It's a simple gesture for a collegue." There's nothing simple or innocent about this 'gesture'. Yet accepting her offer meant getting to Sabrina faster and not having to climb into a cab and potentially get into more trouble on his way. Her arm wrapped around his elbow, pulling him towards the exit as the receptionist muttered a quiet, "Have a great evening." Candice released her hold the second they were on the curb, slipping into the backseat of her car when John pulled open the door for her in place of her driver and silently cursed the manners instilled into him. Don't do it. "You coming, darling?", she questioned with a smirk and despite all of his instincts warning him how bad of an idea it was, he climbed in, too, putting as much distance as he could between them. "Reginald, we will be making a stop on the way. Where are you headed, Mr. Duncan?"

[John's] hand rapped on the door, heartbeat picking up again when he heard footsteps approaching and it swung open. "Hey.", Sabrina uttered out with a smile and he wasted no time in crossing over the threshold and wrapping his arms around her. He pulled her in his embrace, face burying in her soft hair as her scent invaded his senses. "John?", she asked in confusion, amusement instead of alarm coloring her tone at the brazen greeting, "Are you okay?" "I had the worst night imaginable… just humor me for a second. Then you can tell me how strange it is." Her hands that had stayed by her side to that moment gingerly encircled his waist, "I was starting to wonder if something had come up or maybe that you had decided to ghost me." No matter that he knew the hug was dragging for far too long, he couldn't bring himself to let go, until she spoke up again, "John? I'm kind of freezing here." Her words were his wake up call, eyes swooping over her form, the denim shorts, top and thin knitted oversized cardigan she wore as she wrapped her hands around herself. "Sorry.", he muttered before moving out of the way so she could shut the door and stop the cold from entering the house further. He watched her head down the hallway as he remained glued to the spot, feeling absolutely out of place and realizing he had, in fact, overdressed.

"You gonna stand by the front door the whole night?", she asked quietly, eyes shining with mischief. "No. Of course not.", her bare feet and shoes lined on a rack at the entrance told him he was expected to take his off, too. Her attention remained on him, making him worry he was fumbling with something as simple as that, and she was seeing through his poised act and how nervous he felt deep down. Get yourself together. He quickly stored his loafers by the door, deciding it would be too far to put them among her own, then shed his coat and threw it over his arm. Silently, he followed her deeper into the house, the same way he had at her precinct, and just like back then, her oversized cardigan did its hardest to conceal his view. The first thing to hit him about the living room, he found himself entering, was how it felt like a home, not the sterile spaces he had grown up in where everything had been for show, but meaninglessness if you glaced at it for too long. "Is it what you expected?", Sabrina asked, taking note of how he was looking around. "I-", he hesitated, not really having thought of what her home might look like, instead, his mind had been preoccupied with other less innocent things, "It's lovely." "Sit.", she pulled out one of the chairs at the dining table before disappearing into what he assumed was the kitchen. He slipped into the seat after placing his coat over the back of one of the empty chairs.

"Now, I know it's not fine dining.", there was uncertainty in her gaze when she rounded the table with a dish in hand, "But-" "I didn't come for fine dining, Detective. As long as Oliver doesn't jump out from behind the couch, I'm happy." He meant it completely and even more when she placed his dinner in front of him, his mouth watering despite the fact he had eaten already. "I was worried I would have to reheat them twice." "Sorry." She grinned, "Don't be. I just wanted to make a good first impression. Wine or are we behaving tonight?" He suspected he would probably feel tempted to agree to drinking poison if she asked with the same gleam in her eyes, "I could use a drink." She returned shortly with a bottle of red and two glasses, and before she could pour it, he got up, "Let me." "You're the guest-" Her argument was cut short when his fingers brushed hers, and he grabbed the wine, pouring a glass for her first, then for himself before sitting back down across from her. "To-", he paused as he raised his hand in a toast, "saving me from having to listen to whatever performance they had prepared for me as encore back at the hotel." Sabrina let out a laugh and clicked her glass to his, "Think they're still going at it?" "I'm not a betting man, but I would certainly bet on that." "That's some stamina, I'd give them that." "That's one one to look at it." "And you're a patient man.", she added after taking a sip from her wine. Not exactly.

She propped her head on her hand, focusing on him as he picked up his fork and took a first bite from what she had deemed "leftovers". The sautéed potato melting on his tongue with flavor that resulted in an embarrassing noise of satisfaction escaping him. "It's-" "Cold? Did it get cold?", her frown was another level of adorable. "Better than fine dining." She huffed, "You're pulling my leg now." "I'm not." The look on her face told him she wasn't buying the genuine compliment. "I mean it. The company is even better." He wasn't holding back by then, trying to blame his bluntness on the wine when he had barely taken a sip himself. "Right back at you, Mr. Duncan.", her smile was intoxicating enough by itself, he realized. Her fingers breezed over the stem of her wine glass, lashes fluttering before she added, "I got the flowers." His lips twisted into a smirk, yet something in her tone piqued his interest more, he took his time working on next bite then asked, "Did you like them?" "They were beautiful, but John," "Yes?" Her eyes rose up from her glass to his, "It was too much." "Nonsense."

"I hardly did anything to warrant you sending me a giant bouquet like that." "You stayed on the phone while a bat made an attempt on my life. Sending you flowers was the least I could do." She quirked up a smile, "A kill attempt? A tad bit extreme." "Not if you were there." "I did for a second wish to be a fly on the wall, not gonna lie." Her words made him shift in his seat, especially with the knowledge they wouldn't have been facing a bat issue had she been there, instead probably giving his neighbors a show of their own. "What did you do last night before I called?", the question left his mouth before he could shove more food into it. She laced her fingers together and bit her lip in contemplation, muttering nonchalantly, "Be good, and I might show you after dinner." Fuck. Don't go there, brain. It was too late, his mind drank her words like a starving man. Her playful grin didn't help the situation as John blinked slowly and did his best to keep his composure in check while on the inside he pictured taking her right then and there on the table, "It's nothing spectacular, so don't go expecting too much." You're killing me here. "Detective." "Mmm?" "I look forward to it.", his voice dipped, and she appeared completely oblivious to the effect her words had on him as she took a sip of her wine. More than you could ever imagine.

He finished his meal in record time while Sabrina swooped into telling him how excited she was about finally getting a development in one of her cases without actually revealing any sensitive information. As she did that, it took him a minute to remember he wasn't casing a witness and looking for weak links or potential violations of code of conduct. At least not yet. Her features lit up differently when she talked about her work, all of her emotions and dedication shining through. With nothing to keep him distracted, he eventually reached across the table and grabbed her hand, thumb caressing the inside of her wrist where her pulse picked up in a similar pace to his own heart. "Desert?", she asked slowly, adding more fuel to his desire. I'd take you. Gladly. Thankfully, he didn't say that, instead replying a simple, "What do you have in mind?" "I stopped by the diner again after work. Sav loves their chocolate pies, so I got us some. I know I told you how delicious they are, and then Ollie stole the only slice left…" "I'd love that." She nodded and rose up quickly, gathering his empty plate on her way out, "Be right back." John felt glad she hadn't asked for him to follow her because his pants were growing tighter by the minute in her presence to the point he was trying to picture himself in the freezing shower back at his hotel in place of all the fantasies plaguing him currently. So far, he was failing miserably. Sabrina reappeared next to him, startling him a little, "Your pie, Mr. Duncan. With a tiny delay." She placed a piece of the pie whose taste he had been trying to picture throughout the day after the show Oliver had made out of eating it. "And you?" "Me?" "Where's yours?" She shook her head as the realization hit him, "There's only this slice, all yours, Mr. Duncan. I've had it plenty of times."

Of course you're giving me your desert. His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist when she made a move to retreat to her seat, "Sit here instead." Hazel eyes darted from him to the chair next to his, and after a few beats, she complied. He dropped his hold on her arm to lift up the fork and gather a bite of the pie, bringing it up to her mouth first, "We're splitting it then, it's only fair." Her lips parted to accept his offering, the way they closed around the cutlery haunting him as he scooped some of the desert for himself next. Truly killing me here, Detective. The chocolate, whipped cream, and mousse tasted even sweeter, making him wonder if somewhere inbetween he was picking up on her own taste, too. "I will grab another fork.", she muttered, and before she had the chance to get up, he lifted his hand to her mouth with another serving. "We can share this one." His worry about taking things too far was short-lived when she let him feed her again. "Delicious, right?", her tongue absently breezed over her bottom lip when he took a bite. "Absolutely." The next time he brought the fork to her mouth and she licked at the whipped cream left upon the cutlery's retreat, he completely forgot about taking a bite for himself. His intrusive thoughts took over, the fork cluttering against the plate as he dropped it to grasp her cheek. "Remember that kiss from earlier, Sabrina…"

The look she gave him was a knowing one before nodding quickly. He didn't have to be told twice, leaning in closer to cover her mouth with his. The kiss began innocent enough with his lips moving at a slower pace over hers, testing the waters until he couldn't hold back any longer. Not with how sweet she tasted - far better than the goddamned pie on its own. Or the way she let out a sigh of content and kissed him back. His tongue used the first presented opportunity to sneak in, setting on exploring her mouth before meeting her own. Slow down. His hands had other ideas as one of them hoisted her by the waist until she was out of her chair and onto his lap while the other angled her face to deepen the kiss. Her fingers traveled up his arms until they came to rest on his shoulders, and she seemed just as lost in the sensation and dance their tongues had slipped into. Until she pulled back as if finally remembering herself. "John.", his name was a whisper when she leaned her forehead against his, sounding as breathless as he felt while his heart carried on the reoccurring faster rhythm. Go ahead. Ask me… I'd take you to bed, Clive, Mooney, anyone be damned. He waited for the anticipated question to come as they remained in their position until a phone decided to ruin the mood. Sadly, not his. Otherwise, he would have thrown the pesky device across the room, not caring who had decided to call, or if it would survive the flight.

"Tell me you're going to let it go to voicemail.", he said against her lips before diving in for another kiss while the ringing persisted. Whoever had chosen the worst moment to require something for her, was dead set on reaching her. "I can't.", she broke their liplock and gave him an apologetic look, "It might be important." Sabrina clambered off his lap and rushed out of the living room as she pulled her phone out of her cardigan. "I will be right back.", she called out quietly before greeting the person on the other line. Minutes ticked by, the tingling in his lips fading away while he sat at the dining table with his gaze pointed at the kitchen doorway, hoping she'd reappear and pick up where they had left off. Eventually, he got up and walked over to the unlit fireplace, taking the opportunity to take a closer look at the photographs she had on the build-in shelf above it. A dimly lit group shot of Sabrina squished between what he guessed were fellow Detectives at her presinct, if Oliver's presence was anything to go by. The man from her phone homescreen was among the unfamiliar faces and had his hand over her shoulder, the look he wore leaving a bad taste in John's mouth. He forced his attention to a different frame - her and presumably her sister smiling brightly at the camera with an impressive lake surrounded by pines behind them. Another vacation shot stood next to it - a photograph of a young, dark-haired girl hugging a man, the gray in his hairline matching Sabrina's. "Sorry.", she mumbled as she came to stand by John's side, having sneaked up on him yet again, "I'm the worst host." He glanced at her from the corner of his eye as he returned the frame he had picked off from the shelf. "Nonsense. I was keeping myself occupied." "I can see that."

"Your father?", he guessed as he nodded at the picture in front of him, noting the absense of her mother. "Yeah.", the way she hugged herself made him think he should have picked a different question, the fact she offered nothing more just cemented the theory. "Everything okay with the call?" She nodded, "Yeah." God. That word again. The moment is totally gone, isn't it? He turned to face her fully, "It's getting late… I should probably get going, Detective." It was the last thing he actually wanted to do, but the call had inevitably broken the spell between them, leaving an air of awkwardnes to lurk around. Sabrina shifted her weight from one foot to the other, seeming uncertain at the announcement, "Oh, okay." Yet, instead of marching over to the table and grabbing his coat then wishing her goodbye, he took a step forward, his hand grasping hers, "Do you want me to?" Her gaze searched his face, and he held his breath as he waited for her answer, "Not really. No." "Really?", the corner of his mouth quirked up, pride taking over at the fact he had read her correctly and he still had a chance. "I mean, I assume you plan on grabbing a cab to your hotel?", he nodded, so she continued, "And there's no guarantee your lovely neighbors won't be continuing with their shenanigans in the early hours, especially with what you told me…"

He bit back a smirk at her explanation, seeing clearly how she was trying her best to explain her reasoning behind whatever she had on her mind, when he would have all the right to complain if 310 were still going at it upon his return. "It's probably too forward. Hell, it's definitely too forward. But I was going to offer you to stay here, I would be less concerned, especially with your track record." "You're worried about me?", another step brought him closer to her. "About you getting back in one piece after dragging you across town to see me. I was confident you would be just fine at your hotel yesterday, and then the bat happened." "Ask me.", he whispered as the air around them grew heavy, excitement coursing through his body. "You could stay here… if you want.", Sabrina tip-toed over asking him plainly. Close enough. "Are you going to make me sleep on the floor?", he pushed further, the worry he had been too direct dissipating when she smiled at the remark to her previous joke about her "harem" of men. You certainly have enough potential candidates in the photo. "Nope. As long as you behave yourself and don't get my house infested with critters." A smirk broke free, "The couch?"

"I was going to offer you the guest room, Mr. Duncan. It would be gentler on your back. Just on one condition…" Her smile was quickly pushing through all the conviction he had for holding himself back, pulling him in. He chuckled as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, "Yes?" "You have to promise me to take no legal action for anything potentially going wrong while you're residing on the premises." His eyebrows shot up in surprise, "You really are worried." "Can you blame me?" "Absolutely not." "I will need it in writing, by the way…" John groaned, "Sabrina." "Kidding." "I promise.", his face drew closer to hers until their lips were almost touching, "As long as you promise you'd come to my rescue again if needed. Civilian status and all that." Before she had the chance to respond, his mouth descended on hers while he pulled her into him by the belt loop of her pants. Her hands locked around his neck, slipping into his hair and setting on undoing all the efforts and time he had put into styling it as their lips fought to prevail over the other. John kept his fingers from working on taking off her clothes the way "that wicked side" of him beckoned them to do. Patience. Or you'd actually sleep on the floor or worse, she'd change her mind completely. He doubted the usual methods would work, reminding himself he wasn't threading in familiar waters, that she didn't exactly fit in the category of women he usually dated. This time around, it was him who broke the kiss, stroking her cheek while he backed away a little, enough to gaze into her eyes. Self-control. You have it somewhere within yourself, Duncan. "How can I refuse to help after that?", Sabrina said with another smile, skin flushed where his beard had rubbed against it. "I'm torn if perhaps I should wish for trouble now." "Hilarious.", she smoothed a hand down his suit jacket, "Come then." She aimed for another doorway across the kitchen just as he returned to the table and pulled a pen out of his coat's inner pocket, scribbling away at his unused napkin from dinner. "John?", she noticed he wasn't following and moved behind him in attempt to take a peek over his shoulder. "Almost done." "What are you-" He slid the napkin and pen over to her with a smirk, "All you need to do is sign on the dotted line and the contract would be in place." Her eyes scanned his make-shift agreement before she let out a laugh, "I truly was joking."

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