#also yes i know ive only done one ear for each of them and i do want to do a full set at some point but uh. for now you get the gist!

[helianskies]

some piercing hcs for toni, port and arthur

cumulative ear piercings

piercings they still wear (as of 2000s)

piercings gained before/after 1900

[socksracoon10]

Is That It?

A/N: AHH IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER, IVE JUST BEEN SO BUSY OK?!??! IM SO SORRY GUYS I REALLY MEAN IT! But omg im so glad im back to writing and finally done with this draft! Pairing: Will Turner x F!Reader

"You think he's ever coming back?" Your friend, Charlotte, questioned you. You were busy scrubbing the floor of the Governor's room with a very thing rag of cloth. You held it up, unfolding it to get a glimpse of all its holes and tears, a predicament to your tireless work. Gazing into one of the holes which led to the view of the sea outside the grand window, you let out a desolate sigh,

"I've lost all hope."

"Such a shame, I really thought he was interested in you." Charlotte huffed out, before sneezing against the dressing table; the dust flying in every direction it could find. You rolled your eyes, returning back to your work. It had been such a long time since you had heard anything about Will Turner, you almost thought you had forgotten his existence. The first few days after he had left was a blow to your guts, but then as time went on, you managed to adapt a new life - one which definitely didn't involve you making frequent pit stops at the blacksmith's workshop.

All you remembered was him hurriedly running about, fighting the incoming pirates. One of them had their hands wrapped around your throat, their eyes burning into your soul as they repeatedly uttered foreign words to your ears. You didn't understand it, you had no need to. All you could think about was finding a way out of the situation you were in; Will also had the same idea, because in a short amount of time, he hopped over to you and crashed a bottle of rum against the pirate's head and then looked back up at you in anger.

"What are you doing here?" He croaked out, grabbing you by your arm before dragging you off.

"I was coming to find you!" You exclaimed, shaking your head, "I didn't know it was going to get this bad out of nowhere! Who even are these people?"

"Pirates, and I don't - well, they took Elizabeth." He grumbled and you sucked your teeth to hide the surge of jealousy coursing through your veins. Yes, they were childhood friends and were very well acquainted with each other, but you had spent more time with Will than anyone else! I mean, who let him into the Governor's quarters to deliver the swords? Who made food for him and left them at his doorstep? You did, of course! But the oaf was always so caught up with his feelings for Elizabeth, you could hardly ever tell if you were just there as his "best friend" or someone to service him.

When he had left without informing you, you felt at first very much betrayed. And then you felt anger course through your veins only to be simmered down with your gut rattling in resentment. You figured you were dead to him, and that him leaving abruptly was a sign that you no longer meant anything to him. You scowled at yourself, fidgeting with your fingers as you tried to make the best of the situation at hand. The only thing your mind told you to do was to move on, with or without him. It did not matter anymore.

The Governor had seen promise in you after the disappearance of his daughter and Commodore Norrington was charged with sending you back to England for an education. You were, after all, the same age as Elizabeth and showed "some sign of intelligence" according to the people around you. You held your tongue, head faced downwards because as much as Port Royal was home to you, this opportunity would never cross your path ever again. It would only be wise to employ it and distract yourself from the boredom within the port. Besides, your only friend had left you, so there really was no point in sticking around in this dreary place. You sighed, nodding your head at whatever the old men would instruct you to do, and found yourself aboard a ship, setting sail towards England for a new chapter in your life. ****

"What's going on? What's with the ruckus?" You had asked, emerging from the special quarters on the ship. The weather was monstrous, the thunder booming every 5 seconds as a reminder of the treacherous seas. The waves splashed against the ship, churning it as if it were butter. The first mate on the crew instructed you to return back to your room, but you could barely understand what was going on. Should your return to Port Royal be this miserable? Was this the sea's way of telling you to return to England? After finishing 2 dreadfully long years of education through a prestigious - and prude - tutor, you longed to return to that misshapen cottage you once called home. At the moment, it seemed that your grave would lack the corpse it needed if everyone on board was going to drown. From the fog, your eyes bore into the sight of a mysteriously, large ship. Its flag tethered, its wood withered. As the crew around you began panicking, screaming, and crying for mercy, you stood there in shock. This was a pirate ship.

You remembered Will. He had gone after Elizabeth after she had been abducted by those foul creatures. You wondered what happened to him, wondered if he was still the same sweet Will you had grown up with. As the ship in front of you came to a stop, the planks were drawn out. Ah, now was probably a good time to head back into your quarters.

"Wait, wait, Miss (L/N), you cannot leave us! Where are you going!" A small boy had asked. You pitied him, he was no more than 6 years old. Feeling your heart battle with morality, you caught hold of his arm and dragged him into your quarters. You pushed the bed to its side and hid behind it, closer to the wall with the boy seated on your lap. You brought a hand over his mouth and whispered into his ear,

"Not a word out of you. We do not want to be killed."

That was enough to have him behave. The sounds outside only increased tenfold. You could hear flesh being slain, and bones crushing against metal swords. Gruesome, vile noises. You gagged to yourself, resting your head against the wall as you tried to formulate an escape from all this. There had to be another way. You peered over the side of the bed, noticing a shadow behind the door; it lingered for a few more seconds before a sword came pummeling through. The boy in your arms shrieked in horror, and you clasped his mouth shut as you shrank into the corner of the room. There was a sword tucked into the wooden boards under you, mainly for the ship's captain. He wouldn't be needing it now. You propped yourself with your knees, pulling the board open as the boy snuck his arm in to retrieve the glistening sword for you. When you caught hold of the metal, you merely nodded your head to the boy and then stood up to guard him. The door to the quarters was being ripped down by the pirates outside, and you stepped back, the sword stretched out towards the incoming villains.

"Stand back, foul pirates! You do not want to mess with me!" You bellow, swiping your sword around. The pirates that had finally come into view all snickered under their breath, their gazes dark and unforgiving. You saw one press his foot forward, and you jutted the sword out as a warning. He smiled in response, before they all turned their heads to face the man pushing through them.

"Out of the way, out of the way, move," A voice splintered through, and through the darkness of the storm, you couldn't make his face out exactly. The little boy behind you brought the candle from the wall over to the crowd, and that was when the light illuminated Will's face. Your jaw dropped at first, words disintegrating into the air at the sight of him.

"Will?" Your eyes widened, shoulders sagging just a bit. Will raised an eyebrow, scanning you very carefully before he noticed the locket around your neck. It was an oval shape, crafted by him as a gift for your 12th birthday. His hands gently came to lift it up in the light, and a soft gasp escaped his lips,

"(Y/N), it's you!" He exclaimed, pulling you into a tight embrace. The sword fell from your hands, clattering onto the ground below as you stood there in shock. You had never thought you'd see him again, and here he was… as a pirate?!? Your blood was boiling, the audacity of him to even hug you when you had spent years worried over him. You shoved him off before slapping him across his face. The crowd of pirates behind him winced in unison, all of them awkwardly looking away.

"I-I never thought that'd happen to me," Will groaned, rubbing his sore cheek. He watched you push past him to the deck outside, the storm still relentlessly pouring down onto the men aboard. You looked so foreign to him, standing there in those fancy nightgowns that he had only ever seen Elizabeth wear. When he had left you that night, he had embarked on a journey that had changed his entire life. He had discovered that his father was a pirate and that he was meant to be among the seas, not toiling away in Port Royal. Elizabeth had managed to find a hold among the seas too, but she declined Will's proposal to her. She told him she had viewed him more as a brother than anything else, and while that did hurt him at first, he slowly came around to understand it.

And then he remembered you, waiting for him at Port Royal. Even with all that had happened, he never wanted to come back because he believed that by showing up unexpectedly, he was only hurting you more. He figured your life as a maid was already bad enough; he was wrong, clearly. You no longer looked like a maid, you looked like the daughter of a prestigious family. He chewed his lip, eyes grazing over your form to understand what this new transformation meant but before he could even ask, he saw Jack Sparrow stumbling towards you. That was more than enough for him to try and save you.

"My lovely lady, what ever brings you-" Jack began, abruptly cut off by Will jumping in,

"Ah, that's enough of that," He glared at Jack, before forcing a smile towards you, "(Y/N), please. I need some time to talk to you. Alone. Privately."

"I could help the mistress dry her clothes," Jack grinned, stepping forward. You caught a glance of Will sucking his teeth in, trying his hardest to maintain his composure. You smirked, remembering the days when you used to tease him for always carrying a wooden gun, pretending to be an officer. He had that same look on his face, that grumpy attitude when someone tried to break up your play time. Your eyes softened, reminiscing the good days. You sorely missed him, that was for sure.

"Well, as grateful as I am that you have offered to be of some assistance to me, pirate," You crinkled your nose, pushing past Jack, "I suppose I could have some pity towards this man and converse with him… of course, if he promises to have the little boy on board with him."

Will's mouth parted slightly, frowning at your words, "I… I'm not… the uh… it doesn't matter with me, I mean I'd keep him…" He paused, momentarily to peer down at the little boy next to you, before looking to Jack, "It's up to him, though. He's the Captain."

"I am! I am!" Jack cheered, clasping his hands together. You crossed your arms, turning to Will,

"You're not even Captain?" You questioned through gritted teeth.

"I… no. Is that… Is that bad?" He shrugged, wincing at the way your shoulders were rising. You merely huffed out in annoyance, grabbing the ends of your dress to stalk off to the opposite side of the deck. Your anger was uncontrollable. He wasn't even Captain? Then what the hell was he doing for so long away from you? An absolute waste of time! You grumbled under your breath, feeling every urge in your body to lash out on him. When you swiftly turned on your heels, you were faced with a very apologetic Will who was trying his best to comfort you,

"Listen, it's not as bad as you-"

"Oh, shut it! I have spent years, years pining for you! I thought you were dead! I thought you had gone off with Elizabeth, or spent the rest of your life stuck on an awful ship! The possibilities, the scenarios I had thought about your future! And, and… and even if you were a pirate, I figured you'd be a Captain with all the skills you have! What even are you? You horrible creature, you vile beast! You tormented me for this long and this is all you could do? How dare you even show your face to me after all you have done!?!" You bellowed, slapping his face. Will stepped backwards, his mind reeling at your words.

"That's it?" Will asked, eyes wide open as he stared at you.

"That's it?" You repeated, chest heaving in shock, "Is that it? Really? That's all you have to say? I just confessed my feelings and that's all you have to say!"

Will stood there, like a sword lodged into a piece of wood. He swallowed, thickly, trying everything that he could to understand what was happening. You had just confessed that you have had feelings for him since you were young, that you were worried sick for him this whole time. He felt like a fool! To think that he had spent ages worshipping Elizabeth when you were right there beside him. He looked down in embarrassment, feeling a bit ashamed at this revelation. You had shoved him to the side, angrily muttering things under your breath as you headed towards the broken quarters.

And Will knew, as he watched you go, that he had to make up for this somehow. He'd start by showing you just how much he had missed you too.

[catacombbee]

school bus graveyard headcanons because im thinking about them

and because im projecting

just general / random headcanons

Tyler has arachnophobia and entomophobia. creepy crawlies are a HARD NO for Mr. Hernandez. Jackass bullies? No problem. Phantoms trying to eat him? Easy. Tree? Been there, done that. Fucking spiders? get it the FUCK away. mans has a visceral skin crawling reaction to even SEEING something creepy crawlie. it's one of the only things that makes him seriously panic other than yk someone being hurt

Ashlyn has autism yes this is basically canon i think. BUT Ashlyn has a lot of texture sensitivities both with clothes and with food. itchy scratchy clothes are a no. she cannot stand t-shirts keeping their tags they rub and scratch her neck and it makes her want to scream. she cuts the tags out before wearing anything. and food she can't have anything too squishy or tough or else she just loses her appetite entirely.

^^ to build on the clothing tags. everyone else in the group cuts the tags out of their jackets/hoodies and some shirts so if Ashlyn wants to borrow something she can be comfortable

Aiden is down bad for someone wearing his clothes. this can apply to any ship you want, i like him with Ashlyn Tyler or Logan (ive like never seen any talk abt Aidgan? Loden?) but regardless. whoever it is Aiden likes he gets so giddy butterflies giggly seeing someone wear his clothes. this is moreso for Ashlyn or maybe Logan because Ashlyn is so much smaller than Aiden that his sweatshirt would probably hang off her and Aiden would just abdjshfkefbns she's so cute!! this is mostly an Aidlyn hc for me but Logan would also be cute in anyone else's sweatshirt

uh if it's not clear by now im a multishipper ive said it before BUT i like Tyben a lot. they find calm and quiet in each other and bond through expressing themselves through something much healthier: music. i adore Tyben. AND because of Ben in the canvas webtoon: Tyler calls him ladybug. "Hey ladybug" "It's okay ladybug ive got you" "ladybug, you okay?"

kinda related to previous one but like blush hc. Ben does not blush. maybe a little pink on his cheeks. but his EARS. his ears get so RED when he's angry or when he's flustered. his face might be 😐 but you look at his ears and they're red you know he's flustered

ALSO everyone learned ASL for Ben so he didn't have to just use notes n stuff. Aiden was already learning but everyone else picked up on it

Logan likes compact spaces, they male him feel safe and secure. Like the tire! He feels very nice and snuggly in his tire. But also like. under beds. in closets (haha). one time they played hide and seek in Aiden's house and Logan won because he fell asleep curled up in an empty cabinet. Logan loves being little spoon because he just fits snugly in everyone's arms

it's been mentioned Tyler plays guitar, but i hc that he's also a really good artist. because he got into baseball for a scholarship he's kinda dropped both art and music, but in getting to know the others and especially Ben he gets back into playing music which leads to him drawing again. he doodles pictures of his friends and they realize what a good artist he is. that's how he realizes he actually has passion for creativity and decides he wants to be a tattoo artist.

(i was writing a tyden tattoo artist Tyler au on a reblog draft from a post @\the-killies made and like forgot abt it. someone peer pressure me if you think that sounds like snth you wanna read. it was probably over 1k words by the time i forgor)

Taylor likes mechanics (cus. the club) but she also knows some programming. this is solely because I think Taylor would like making little robots just for fun. Aiden would beg her to make him a little robot like that one companion toy robot Cosmo

in canvas sbg Logan brought a bunch of clothes for them to wear in the pictures/videos they took. so. Logan likes cosplay and renn faires. History is one of his favorite subjects (the other being science. english/literature is a very close third. he doesn't dislike math just isn't his favorite) so he has a lot of clothes from different time periods because of the renn faires he's been to.

This is a really unhinged headcanon and isn't something ive ever thought about before but thinking about Logan having outfits and stuff made me think who would be the most likely to be a furry. and no not Logan. it would be Aiden. hes rich enough to splurge on his fursuit. THIS IS A JOKE I DONT HC HIM AS A FURRY THIS IS A "WHOS MOST LIKELY TO" PLEAS

Aiden's favorite subject is history, he likes reading about wars but he also enjoys learning about other cultures and differences from how we live in modern day America. Aiden would probably study anthropology just for the fun of it. he and Logan bond over their love of history. Aiden can't remember what he had for lunch yesterday but he can tell you every little detail he knows about the Civil War start to finish, dates and names and locations and all.

this is a really weird hc but. Ashlyn is an amazing rapper. there was a karaoke night and one song someone did had a rap part coming up and they were like ahaha it's too fast for me and Ashlyn just stood up. took the mic. and fucking blew everyone's minds. and then she sat down like she didnt just rock their world

this last bit is self indulgent. assuming the phantom world things don't last forever, the kids get therapy eventually :D

^^ building on that, Ben specifically, he lives in my head rent free. i love him sm. Ben gets therapy for not just the phantom world things but everything beforehand. slowly and surely, starting with Aiden and Lily and maybe whichever person he's shipped with, he starts talking again. Some days are better than others, sometimes he gets quiet again, other times he goes for days talking as much as anyone (except aiden he yaps.) everyone almost cries when Ben is doing something and begins singing to himself because they realize he's better

im gonna do like gender & sexuality headcanons too,,, maybe later. might do silly ship hcs too cus i ship so many pairings here

[notmozzi]

Kiriko Jealousy Headcanons (some NSFW)

A/N: this sat unfinished in my notes for a while so i went ahead and finished it up to feed you guys. im working on some kirihana content (as well as other requests) in the meantime. ngl ive been pretty busy, so i apologize for any inactivity, but i promise more stuff is slowly getting done. enjoy!

——————

• Kiriko is pretty mature and, generally, knows how to keep to herself when someone’s hitting on you. Especially if theyre actually respectful upon you rejecting them.

• And when it comes to your closeness with friends, she’s extremely lenient. She only asks that she knows where you are, but she never hovers you. She 100% trusts you.

• However, there have been times where someone had rudely insisted on getting your number, taking you out, etc. And in these instances, Kiriko isn’t so distant.

• For one, Kiriko enjoys holding you close. An arm around your back and her hand on your hip? She does this often. A quick kiss on the cheek? Holding your hand? Calling you “babe” or “precious?” All of the above.

• When things get more tense, though, Kiriko drops the sweet form of asserting herself.

“Sorry, but Y/N’s taken.” Kiriko held you flush against her with each of her hands on your hips. You shuddered as you felt her breath ghosting over the back of your neck with each word she murmured. “She’s not interested.”

• And Kiriko is hardly possessive, but that doesn’t mean she can’t be. Little acts like holding you by the hips or kissing you with a hand holding your chin always get you flustered. And she sure as hell enjoys little things that make her feel in more control over you.

• This is only 20% of the time. 60% of the time, when someone bothers you, she opts for the kiss on the cheek and a sweet nickname. That tends to ward anyone off.

• And the other 20%? Well, Kiriko has it taken care of before you even walk out the door.

• Kiriko loves marking you behind closed doors. Loves it. And depending on the events of a certain day, she’ll most definitely leave them in spots you can’t hide without a turtleneck.

• If she’s simply feeling romantic, Kiriko leaves marks on your chest and collarbone. Subtle bruises, but nothing crazy.

• If there’s been a guy talking to you that she’s wary about, though, or maybe somebody bothered you that day that she had to ward off, then you best believe she’s taking out her possessiveness on you.

You let out a sharp gasp as Kiriko pressed you against the bedroom door, fingers intertwined and breathing heavy. Your quick breathing quickly turned into a soft, blissfull moan, feeling Kiriko immediately press her face into the crook of your neck.

Her cheek brushed against yours as her tongue dragged its way along your jawline, slowly travelling down the side of your throat and eventually stopping just above your collarbone. Only a moment passed before you felt her teeth gently and lewdly press into your skin.

You keened and arched into her, and she only responded with a growl as she pressed your hands further up against the wall. The bite lasted just a few seconds and Kiriko finished it off with a gentle lick as she let go. She then kissed her way back up your neck and brought her lips to your ear.

“You’re mine, kichō.” She purred, her voice shockingly low already and giving away her arousal. “And I’m gonna make sure they know from now on. Okay?”

You could only nod as she nipped at your ear, eliciting a shaky whine from your lips. As the taller woman continued, you dutifully surrendered, exposing your throat with the raise of your chin and closing your eyes.

• The marks left behind the following morning always make Kiriko grin like an idiot. You try to be annoyed, but can’t help but find it a little hot that Kiriko chooses to assert herself this way. You also, oddly enough, find it somewhat cute with how proud of herself she gets.

• And whenever you tease her about her jealousy, she typically ends up fingering you numb. Overstimulation is a big yes when you relentlessly taunt her.

Aww look at you now…that pretty little face, all flustered just for me. Listen to yourself baby…you were so cocky just seconds ago. What happened, Y/N? Do my fingers feel that good? Yeah? Do me a favor and scream who you belong to, sweetheart. Just for me.

[teal-moonlight]

Headcanon time again and dude, ive been missing Kazuha a lot and something came to mind…

We talked about how Kazuha and Lumine would have the most wholesome fwb kinda thing, both are comfortable with it, both have a close friend to unwind and be themselves, and oh how Kazuha actually enjoys it, and with the knowledge that he's one to get involved in things just because the traveler is around has me ascending, like the times hes been a part of events and he says that he was around but he wanted to participate because he wanted to spend some time with Lumine adgasuifña

Like the last time in Liyue with the TCG tournament, after everything was done and Lumine was getting ready to leave for Inazuma, she just so happened to be staying on an inn in the city, Paimon's fault since she said Wangshu inn was too far away and they needed to leave by boat so a place close to the harbour would be more convenient (that and the fact that Paimon was kinda fed up of her bestie's escapades with certain yaksha… poor innocent fae if only she knew xD).

That night after they were full from a delicous meal in Wanmin restaurant, Paimon fell like a rock, already in deep sleep after the days activities, in the silence of the night, Lumine caught a faint whitling sound, going closer to the window she immediately recognized it, smiling to herself she decided that a quick stroll to the roof would be nice. And of course, as expected she found him there, looking as serene and calm as ever, Kazuha immediately noticed her, greeting her with one of his cliched remarks of how he caught her scent on the wind approaching, always so true to himself.

They sat side by side talking about everything and nothing, catching up, conversing about the days' events, the old and new friends they met, Lumine alway felt so comforted being with him like this. She was entranced looking at the night sky when she suddenly felt his body heat get closer and a pair of lips connecting to the skin of her neck, just behind her ear, a flush running up her cheeks and a bolt of heat going south. Honestly, after they decided that this was how their friendship was going to be Lumine couldn't help but giggle a bit, she's actually really missed him.

Taking advantage of the oportunity, she asks if he'd like to give her a room tour, Kazuha also had to laugh this is just so much fun between the both of them, Lumine isn't the only one enjoying their little encounters. So they go back down, not before sharing some body heat on that roof, kisses and caresses getting a bit too heated, he takes her hand and they go to his room for a while, both of the know she has to go back or the fae might wake up to an empty room and Lumine really does not want to deal with that again, so they make the most of the time they have, small conversations, laughter and roaming touches leaving them both satisfied and glowing. It's always a bit sad when she has to leave, with the promises of a next time, a hug, a kiss and a high five… yes they really are the bestest friends ever.

I just love this relationship with them, intimate but also so incredibly chill, one moment they're talking about the most trivial things the next they're making each other scream I LOVE THEMMMM

[loveelle]

Wedding Bells

Jim Halpert x Reader

Request: ive just read your jim fics and omg!!! could i submit a request where him and the reader have been dating for a while and he’s planning to propose to her and the whole office knows and are trying to hype him up to do it and stuff?? right it’s time to reread your jim fics🥺

A/N: I’m sorry for how I ended it, I just cannot physically write a proposal scene lol

WC: 2.8K

Master

---

And… send.

You smile to yourself as you watch your email go through, the last little bit of work you had to do before the day was over and it was only barely noon. The rest of the work could be done Monday which means it was the perfect relax day… it also means your job is pretty sad when you can blow off full days of work but at the moment you didn’t care.

You push yourself out from your desk, spinning your chair around and quickly catching the eye of your boyfriend seated just to your right. Jim smiles behind his palm, watching you grab your coffee mug and stand. His eyes remain locked with yours as you move around him, and he tips his head back right in time for you to dip yours to kiss him. Your noses bump as you pull away with a silent giggle as not to disturb anyone who is actually working. Before you can leave, Jim hands you his coffee cup with a pleasing look and you roll your eyes before taking it.

Jim watches as you head to the kitchen, never letting his smile fade. You set the mugs on the counter, start the coffee and then turn to head to the restroom. The moment you were out of Jim’s sight, he leaps out of his chair and over to Pam’s desk.

Pam was just finishing an email of her own when Jim arrives, pushing a small velvet box behind her nameplate and glancing quickly around the room to make sure no one is looking. When she’s ready to talk to him, Jim opens the box before she can speak. She’s stunned as she stares at the beautiful engagement ring sitting inside.

Jim takes her shocked expression with a little bit of worry as he leans on her desk, hiding his fear behind his smile. “Wow, Jim,” Pam finally says as he glances to make sure the coast is clear and you were still in the restroom, “I mean, I’m honored but you do know I have a fiancé and you have a girlfriend, right?” Pam jokes,

Jim rolls his eyes. “Haha.” He fake laughs before focusing on the ring. “But seriously, what do you think?”

Pam can’t hide her smile any longer. “She’s gonna love it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes!” She says a little louder than she or Jim wanted, but both were too excited to care. “Are you kidding me? This is going to look so beautiful on her finger. Have you thought about how you’re going to do it?”

He thought a lot about it. A lot. “Well, I was thinking about-“

“You’re proposing to Pam?” Kevin’s voice surprises everyone in the office as the man stands next to copier and Oscar, his mouth hanging open in shock and his previous conversation with Oscar having dropped.

As soon as Kevin’s words reach the ears of the rest of the office, work falls to the back of their minds. Kelly is the loudest, squealing as she drags Ryan away from his desk to look at the ring and Ryan has no choice but to follow. Meredith is right behind them with a low “nice” as she claps and by the time the three of them arrive at Pam’s desk, Phyllis is there too and Creed lurks in the back, much like Angela was doing over the partition between Reception and Accounting. All of them beg Jim to let them see the ring.

Jim is struggling to see over the masses as he worriedly watches the door to the kitchen to see if you left the bathroom. “No!” He tells them all, whispering and yet yelling as best as he could. “I’m not proposing to Pam, I’m proposing to Y/N.”

Bouts of ‘oh’s and ‘that makes sense’ come from each of his coworkers as Jim breathes out in relief. He looks to Pam who is shaking her head in apology to Jim and he returns the gesture.

To make Jim’s predicament worse, Michael steps out of his office. “What is going on here?” He puts his hands on his hips, glancing between his workers and yet focusing on Jim, whose back was still turned and, although he couldn’t see, face was scrunched up.

Creed spoke up first. “The tall guy got engaged.”

Michael takes a harsh breath. “To be married?”

Jim turns around, eyes wide. “No!” He says, making Michael’s brows furrow. “I mean, yes, but not yet- I haven’t, um…” He looks back to the door, knowing you should walk out any second. Michael hadn’t said anything yet, only staring at Jim and the ring in his hand. Jim was growing more anxious with each passing moment of silent.

Phyllis reaches out and places her hand gently on Jim’s back. “She’s going to love it.” Jim relaxes at Phyllis’ reassurance.

“Thank you, Phyllis,” He tells her with a small smile before clearing his throat and closing the ring box, slipping it into his back pocket, “now if everyone can do me a favor and keep their voices down, I’d appreciate it.”

Everyone listens to him, saying their final congrats and walks away, talking quietly about weddings and marriage and Jim hopes the conversation stops when you come around. Looking back at Michael, Jim stares back at him with a flat smile, waiting for his boss to do something but Michael just stands there. It isn’t until the doors to the kitchen open up and you walk out with two freshly made cups of coffee does Michael finally look away from Jim and towards you. Jim doesn’t realize what Michael is doing until he takes his first few steps.

“Michael!” Jim calls out and it catches your attention as you look up from your careful coffee walk to see your boss walking your way with almost wet eyes and a budding smile. His arms are around you quickly, making you stumble back a few steps with wide eyes. The coffee in Jim and your cups spill out a little, burning your hands as you hiss. Jim wasn’t long behind Michael and he grabs the cups from your hands and wipes as much of the coffee off your hands with his own.

You appreciate Jim’s actions, but your boss still clinging onto you confuses you more than anything. No one says anything, in fact, the entire office is watching, each with conflicting faces on whether they should help. You look between Jim’s slightly irritated face he is directing at Michael over to Pam who is sitting behind her desk with her face buried in her hands as she shakes her head. Nothing made any sense to you at the moment.

“I was gone for 5 minutes.” Michael doesn’t release you from his hold until you tap his shoulder. “Michael? Could you um, could you let me go?” He doesn’t. “Michael.”

“I’m sorry.” He sounds like he was crying. “I’m sorry!” He finally pulls away and you learn he is actually crying. “I’m just really excited!”

“For… what?” You weren’t really sure whether you wanted to know.

Michael was about to speak again before Jim claps him over the shoulders and pulls him away from him. “Michael was just telling us about his plans for the weekend.”

Michael nods, going along with Jim’s idea. “Yup!” He cheers. “I’ve got a date.” You raise your brows, not knowing what else to say. “A hot date. Super-hot. She’s super hot. Think Jan and then about a million times ho- A million times hotter-”

“Okay, Michael?” Jim interrupts, knowing Michael was going to ramble a bit more if he didn’t stop him. Michael does thankfully stop, clasping his mouth shut. “We’re going to get back to work.” Jim points over his shoulders towards the two of your desks. Michael lets you go, but not without a quick last hug to you and a slightly longer hug to Jim before he’s heading back into his office.

You meet Jim’s eyes with a curious smile, wondering what the hell the last few minutes were but Jim only smiles at you and glances down to your hands. “How’s your hands?” He mumbles, stepping a little closer and taking your hands in his. They had a slight burn to them from your coffee spill, but other than that, you were fine.

“They’ll be better once you tell me what was just happening.” Jim chuckles lightly before swinging one of his arms, with your hand still in his, over your shoulder to walk you back to your desk without an answer to your question. He pulls out your chair for you as you fall into it and once Jim is back in his desk, he throws a wink your way that makes your cheeks heat up before you finally get back to work, completely aware of the several glances Jim was throwing your way and yet, completely unaware of the glances from everyone else in the office.

---

“Tuna!” Jim’s eyes widen as he steps out of the bathroom to the sound of Andy calling him with an ear-to-ear grin. Andy was sitting at the table with Kevin, both of them sipping on their respective drinks as Andy starts singing, “Tuna. Tuuuna! Tuna, Tuna, Tuna, Tuuuunnaaaaa! Tu-“

“What is it, Andy?” Jim says louder than Andy’s singing as the man finally stops but his grin never falls.

“So, how are you going to propose to Lady Tuna?”

Jim opens the fridge as his face scrunches at Andy’s nickname for you. “Firstly, don’t call her that. And I don’t really know, I haven’t put much thought into it.” He has, but Andy and Kevin don’t really need to know that.

Andy chokes on his drink. “You haven’t thought about it?” He states loudly, slamming his cup back down on the table. “You haven’t thought about it?!” Wincing at his volume, Jim puts his finger to his lips, ushering his coworker to keep his voice down.

“But you really haven’t thought about it?” Kevin joins in the conversation. “I mean, you know you should have a plan before you propose, right?”

Jim shakes his head in resignation. “Yes, I do, Kev.” He closes the fridge without grabbing anything and throws a glance back out to the bullpen to see you sitting at your desk tapping away at your computer with what he can only describe as the cutest bored look on your face.

“Nervous about what she would say?” Andy watches Jim’s expressions closely before Jim pauses and slides into the seat.

“I know she’ll say yes, but it’s just-” Jim begins, tapping his fingers gently against the table. Realizing he has no idea what he was going to say next, he jumps out of his seat, rubbing a hand over his face as he starts to pace. “You know what, never mind, because there is no ‘but’ because she’s going to say yes.” He stops his pacing, looking back at you at your desk. She’s going to say yes, right? He thinks to himself.

Andy and Kevin move to stand behind him and they both put one of their hands on both of Jim’s shoulders. “She’s going to say yes.” Kevin tells him and Jim slowly smiles at his friends hyping him up.

You close out of the website on your computer as you sigh and look over to your boyfriend’s empty desk. Knowing he was in the bathroom, your eyes fluttered up briefly to the kitchen before they fall back down onto your computer. They don’t stay there long, however, because you realize as you had looked up, Jim, Andy, and Kevin were all staring at you. You look back up again, staring at the trio as Kevin and Andy scurry back to their seats, leaving only Jim still staring at you with one of the happiest smiles you’ve seen him wear in the office before.

---

There was still a half an hour left on the clock by the time you were finished packing up and you perch yourself on Jim’s desk as he finishes up a phone call to one of his clients. When he finishes, he hangs up the phone before standing up and situating himself between your legs. “Hey, you.” He whispers as he leans in for a kiss.

“Hi.” You say back before melting against his lips. When you separate, you tug on his tie a little, keeping him as close to you as you can.

Jim looks at your bag hidden in your seat as he chuckles lightly. “You’re packed up early.”

You hum, letting your head fall with a smile. “Yeah, I was hoping we might be able to get out of here early today.” Jim chuckles again, taking your hand in his as he plays gently with them. You let him do so for a moment before taking a deep breath. “So,” you begin, and Jim meets your eyes, waiting for you to continue your thought, “Are you going to tell me why you and everyone in this office has been acting really weird today?”

Jim furrows his brows, scratching his head in an act. “Have I- Have people been acting weird?” He throws annoyed glances around the room as you hum.

“Yeah. You know, Michael has been looking at me a lot through his window shades- actually, he’s doing it right now.” Jim turns around to see Michael standing against his window and doing exactly as you described, staring at the two of you intensely. As soon as Jim looks at him, he lets go of his shades, hiding his presence, but it wasn’t hard to tell he was still there. “Kelly also has been talking non-stop about how good of a couple we are and how she’s excited for our future- which was then followed by Ryan hitting on me and saying ‘it’s not too late?’”, Jim nods, trying to keep his anger at his coworker hidden but he makes a mental note to kill Ryan later. You shake your head, entertained by Ryan thinking you would ever break up with Jim for him.

“Well,” Jim steps out from in front of you, moving to grab his own bag and sling it over his shoulder before grabbing yours and putting it over his, “shall we?” He reaches his hand out for you. You furrow your brows and look at your watch.

“We still have 28 more minutes?”

Jim just chuckles and pulls you off his desk, trying hard not to smile. He doesn’t say anything until he’s knocking on Michael’s door and pulling it open. “Michael?” He calls out and your boss picks his head up, his eyes widening when he sees the two of you. “We’re heading out.”

Michael claps, rising from his desk, which only confuses you more. “Let me get a look at you two.” Jim moves out of the doorway just barely as Michael looks you both over, and then once again, his eyes starts to water. He pushes past you both gently. “Everyone?” He calls out and you look to Jim who just stands there with a smile. “I want you all to take a good long look at these two beautiful sexy people-“

“Michael.” Jim sighs and Michael holds his hand up, telling Jim he knows it was wrong to say it.

“These two beautiful people in love and who’s facing the future like a train and they’re- and they’re standing on the tracks... of love and... um....” Michael pauses, looking at you and Jim as he tries to figure out what to say next.

“You done?” Jim asks and Michael nods. Jim claps him on the back before waving at the rest of the office. “Bye guys, see you Monday.” Everyone says goodbye back and he takes your hand, leading you out of the office and towards the elevator, but not without a smirk and a wink from Pam along the way.

“Jim, seriously,” You chuckle, bumping him in the arm with yours, “What was happening? What was wrong with everyone today?”

The elevator opens and Jim leads you inside. Before you can hit the button for the ground floor, Jim beats you to it, only he presses the button for the roof instead. He doesn’t look at you, instead he stares at the doors leading up to the roof, the exact place he, Pam, and everyone else who could spare their time spent their day. Everything was perfect, from the fairy lights fighting the darkening sky to light up with roof to the little sketches of you and Jim falling in love scattered all around that Pam had spent the day drawing.

The only thing left was for you to say yes.

.

.

.

[hornime]

watch and learn | iwaizumi hajime x f!reader x team japan

there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.

warnings: 18+, timeskip!everyone, BIG MANGA SPOILERS BASICALLY, exhibitionism, voyeurism, orgasm denial

w/c: 3.1k

a/n: now i don’t know if iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer learned about female orgasms when he was studying sports science at irvine BUT he def knows how to show a girl a good time which is reason enough for me to write this. also, i read this article to prep for this piece and it was super enlightening, so i do recommend giving it a read if you’re interested!

in the middle of his morning run, iwaizumi slowed momentarily to check the repetitive buzzing of this phone, curious as to who was messaging him this early. when he’d left the apartment, you were sleeping, and you had the tendency to still be sleeping by the time he returned, so who else could it be?

he unlocked his phone, quickly finding the source of the notifications: the team japan group chat.

[06:43 AM] miya: hey @iwaizumi—you know stuff abt the human body right?

[06:43 AM] miya: cus like you studied it in college and shit??

iwaizumi rolled his eyes. i spent four years in america to earn my degree, came back home to support my country’s olympic team, and dealt with the biggest idiots of volleyball, only to get treated like this?

[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: yes, miya. i took many courses on the human body. in fact that’s the purpose of my job. to know the human body. because i am a fucking athletic trainer.

[06:44 AM] miya: okay okay i get it. dumb question

[06:44 AM] iwaizumi: why? is something up? you need help or anything?

[06:44 AM] miya: uhhh kinda

[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata i’m not fucking asking this

[06:44 AM] bokuto: bro just do it

[06:44 AM] miya: @hinata @hinata @hinata 

iwaizumi cocked an eyebrow. what the hell are they going on about?

[06:45 AM] iwaizumi: so am i needed or...

[06:45 AM] hinata: YES

[06:45 AM] hinata: we had a question

[06:46 AM] sakusa: by “we” he means him, miya, and bokuto

[06:46 AM] suna: yeah don’t bring us into this

[06:46 AM] hinata: don’t listen to them! both suna and sakusa wanna know too

[06:46 AM] iwaizumi: okay. what’s up

[06:47 AM] hinata: we wanted to know how to make a girl cum

he chuckled in disbelief.

[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: you’re telling me that you guys are in your mid-20s, literal olympic athletes, and you don’t know how to make a girl cum

[06:47 AM] iwaizumi: have you never done it before??

[06:47 AM] miya: NO

[06:47 AM] miya: FOR THE RECORD IVE MADE MANY GIRLS CUM

[06:48 AM] bokuto: ME TOO

[06:48 AM] bokuto: i think

he laughed out loud, briefly startling another runner on the sidewalk.

[06:48 AM] iwaizumi: you guys are unbelievable

[06:48 AM] hinata: i mean she says she finished but idk what i did to make that happen

[06:48 AM] bokuto: ^^

[06:48 AM] hinata: so like i wanna know how to actually do it

[06:48 AM] suna: actually im kinda interested in this too

[06:48 AM] aran: i pray for your future girlfriends. this is painful to see. im out

[06:48 AM] kageyama: i’m with aran on this one. you guys are dumb

[06:48 AM] hinata: shut up. you suck.

[06:48 AM] miya: cmon iwaizumi, help a guy out

[06:48 AM] sakusa: it wouldnt hurt for you to give us some pointers at least

iwaizumi sighed.

[06:49 AM] iwaizumi: @miya @hinata @bokuto @suna @sakusa meet in the locker room after practice. ill give you guys a lesson in the art of pleasing a woman

to teach effectively, he needed a volunteer, though he was sure you wouldn’t need much convincing. you’d always loved the attention, and the biceps, of the pro athletes. he spun on his heel and jogged home.

you woke up to the sound of your apartment door opening, your boyfriend creeping inside, forehead damp with sweat.

“hey,” you said quietly, making your way towards him.

“hey, baby. sorry for waking you up, i was trying to be quiet.”

you giggled sleepily. “s’okay, haji. you spoil me too much anyway, always letting me sleep in for hours while you’re off doing god knows what.”

at that, his eyes crinkled in amusement, and as you tried to step into a hug, he shuffled back. “woah there, baby. i gotta shower, ‘m all gross from my run. and then,” he gave you a peculiar look that you couldn’t quite place, “i got a proposition for you.”

after his shower, he waltzed out of the bathroom, steam wafting out from behind the door. his tanned body made you feel things you definitely shouldn’t be barely an hour after the sun’s risen, and you reached out to massage the tension in his shoulders. “so, what’s your proposition?”

“well,” he hesitated. “it’s a bit... unconventional. the team asked me to show them how to make a girl cum,” he took in your intrigued expression. “and it’d be a lot easier to explain if i had someone to do a live demonstration with. so,” his eyes flicked up to you. “that’s where you’d come in.”

“a... live demonstration? like you’re gonna make me cum in front of them?”

“yeah, essentially.” he gave you a devilish grin. “you want that, baby? wanna show those boys how a real man treats a gorgeous woman like you?”

you rubbed your thighs at his words. “yeah,” you purred. “i do. wanna show them how good you are to me.”

and that’s how you found yourself nestled between iwaizumi’s muscled thighs, back pressed against his chest, completely naked, with five of japan’s best volleyball players staring at your body in awe.

practically an expert in his field, iwaizumi knew the human body inside and out. this had many benefits; of course it allowed him to catapult up the ranks and work with the country’s best athletes to keep them at the top of their game, but it also had a unique side effect: an overwhelming vault of knowledge on how to make a woman feel good anywhere. 

you’d seen the proof firsthand; he knew exactly where to push, prod, stroke, and tease to have you cumming in seconds, over and over, as many times as you wanted. he was amazing, and you were well-aware just how lucky you were to have such a talented man in the sheets.

“oi,” iwaizumi snapped his fingers, drawing each of the players’ eyes away from your glistening cunt. “pay attention. i know more than anybody that she’s hot as fuck, but you gotta listen to what i’m saying or else there’s no point to this.”

he lightly pressed his lips against your collarbone, slowly tracing them against your jaw, the contact making you squirm. “if you wanna make a girl cum, first thing you gotta do is make her comfortable. if she’s worried about how she looks or sounds or smells she’s gonna be too stressed to let go.” he moved his hands to grope your tits, his calloused fingers brushing over your hardening nipples. “so reassure her, tell her how irresistible she is, how pretty her moans are, how tasty her pussy is. shit like that. the sexier she feels the better it’ll be.”

he leaned into you, whispering into your ear. “feeling good, baby? we can stop whenever.”

you nodded weakly, afraid to open your mouth, barely holding in your whines as his palms worked wonders on your chest and stomach, sending shocks of heat wherever they touched. 

you craned your neck up to observe the men before you. atsumu was flushed red, wringing his hands as if he was worried they’d do something embarrassing if he didn’t keep them occupied. hinata was bouncing his leg up and down, wiping his palms on his shorts as he took in the plushness of your thighs. bokuto was basically drooling, greedily tracing your soft curves with his eyes. suna maintained his indifferent expression, but the reddening tips of his ears showed that he was a lot more hot and bothered than he let on. sakusa stood quietly to the side, leaning against the wall, mask tucked under his chin as if he’d just realized how much the temperature had gone up in the room.

there were two things they all had in common: the growing bulges in their pants that they were urgently trying to distract themselves from, and the fact that their full attention was on you.

"make sure to try different things; there’s multiple ways to make a woman cum. only like a quarter of women experience orgasms just from penetration,” someone made a sound of shock. “yes, the number is that small, bokuto.” 

his fingertip slowly trailed past your belly button, dipping into the mess between your thighs, causing you to slightly arch your back into the solid chest supporting you. “foreplay with the clit is your best bet; even stupid fucks like you probably wouldn’t screw it up too bad.”

hinata opened his mouth to speak, but iwaizumi anticipated his question and continued.

“i know you’re wondering where the clit is. it’s around here, under this hood of skin,” he slid his digit between your labia. “s’not gonna come with a label so you gotta explore a little bit. i know where hers is like the back of my hand, but for you guys, with your girls, you’re gonna have to move your fingers around. slowly. and pay attention to her expressions.” he began to rub in a circular motion around your clit, causing you to make small whimpers of pleasure and shift your hips to meet his movements. 

“if she clenches up or twitches when you feel a certain spot, like this,” your legs flexed as he increased the pressure, “that’s the clit. be kind, it’s not a volleyball. be gentle n’ make small circles, whether it’s with your fingers or your tongue.” 

he thought for a second. “speaking of which, oral’s important. very important. most women cum when they’ve been eaten out, so use your mouths for something more useful than just dirty talk. suck on the clit, maybe tongue-fuck her a ‘lil, but your main focus should always be the clit.”

he removed his hands from your sopping pussy, and you made a pathetic noise of frustration. “’m sorry, baby,” he muttered seductively in your ear. “don’t wanna have you finishing too early. lesson’s barely started.”

he turned his attention back to your audience, his lustful tone being replaced by a more instructional one. “there’s other places that’ll help a woman orgasm, too: her nipples, her neck, her ears—”

“her ears?” sakusa questioned. he blushed profusely as everyone turned to look at him, surprised that he’d opened his mouth. “what? we were all thinking it.”

“s’a valid question,” iwaizumi said. “yeah, you can lick ‘em if they’re sensitive. hers are.” as if to prove his statement, he licked a stripe on the shell of you ear, making you wiggle helplessly at the stimulation. “‘n leave kisses everywhere else. feels good for them just like it does for us.” he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and forcing your movements to stop as he traced patterns with his tongue all around your neck.

“something you should know about an orgasm is that it’s something called a positive feedback loop.” he looked up and was met with five blank stares. shouldn’t have expected anything from these dumb jocks, he lamented. “basically that means that, once you start releasing sexual tension, things will feel better and better until you climax.”

“oh!” atsumu chirped. “like how my sets get better and better throughout a game.”

“no, not really,” he quipped. “your sets suck throughout.” atsumu frowned at that.

iwaizumi exhaled exasperatedly. “the general idea is that the body gets more and more sensitive, muscle contractions become more and more frequent, and touches feel more and more stimulating until you cum. all right?”

they all made noises of understanding except for bokuto and hinata, whose eyes had glazed over at the first mention of an academic term. whatever, iwaizumi thought. they’ll get it through example.

"don’t worry about it too much if you don’t get it, that’s just an orgasm on paper. in practice, though, this is the crucial step: listen to her. she knows what feels good. never forget that you’re just an idiot with a cock.” he took a breath, gathering his thoughts before proceeding with his lecture.

“if she tells you to slow down, you slow down. if she tells you to go harder, you go harder. if she tells you to keep doing what you’re doing, you...”

“keep doing what you’re doing”, they all chimed in at staggered times.

“that’s right. don’t go faster or else you’ll mess up the rhythm and she won’t cum. and you wanna make her cum, don’t you?”

they nodded simultaneously.

“so if you keep up the tempo and force that feels good to her, you’ll be fine. questions?”

suna spoke up. “what about,” he choked on the word. “penetration?”

hinata hummed in agreement and bokuto jumped in. “yeah, what if i wanna make her cum on my cock?”

iwaizumi made a weird face. “that’s some pretty advanced stuff, but i guess i can go over it. when you try it, though, you have to be patient. with both of your bodies. s’not rocket science but s’not always easy. also it depends on the woman but sometimes she physically won’t be able to finish from penetration alone. just make sure you’re communicating.”

his swirled two fingers over your hole before shoving them in, your wetness making it easy for him to thrust in and out as your entrance stretched to accommodate him. “f—fuck!” your eyes flew open at the intrusion and you body lurched forward, but you were held back by his strong forearm. “ohmygod, oh my g—ah! feels s’good haji, s’good!”

“i know, baby, i know. you’re taking it so well.” he turned his attention back to the men, each of who were gulping heavily. if that didn’t signal to you that they were evidently affected by your moans, the way they shifted in their workout shorts did.

“boys, focus.” he curled his fingertips, brushing at the spongy spot at the top of your walls, ripping a pleasured wail from your throat and causing tears to prick at your eyelashes. “when you’re fingering her, you’ll feel an area inside that’s a bit soft and squishy. that’s the g-spot.”

you trembled in his arms as he mercilessly struck the same place over and over again with his fingers. “when you’re fucking her, try to keep the pressure building there, but it’ll be harder to make her finish since you can’t see what you’re doing.”

your breath hitched as iwaizumi’s incessant movements brought your body tantalizingly close to your release. he suddenly stopped and you almost sobbed in disappointment, until he plunged his fingers impossibly deeper.

a guttural scream of ecstasy came from within you, and your eyes rolled back as he began playing with another part of you, your body putty in his hands. “hngh, haji, ah! so good, s’good...” you threw your hands back around his neck, nails digging into the skin as you desperately tried to keep yourself grounded. your soft moans filled the air.

“stop clenching,” he hissed. “can barely move my hand.” you tried to relax but failed miserably as the tips of his fingers grazed your cervix. 

“holy fuck,” suna muttered. “you’re a god.”

“she sounds so pretty,” atsumu said in amazement.

“i wanna make a girl feel good like that, too!” bokuto sulked.

“you can do it, bokuto!” hinata hit him on the arm. “just listen to iwaizumi. clearly he knows what he’s talking about.” 

their eyes refocused on your figure, writhing in pleasure, prompting white hot waves of arousal to pool in their stomachs. 

“yeah,” sakusa said. “clearly.”

“stop talking,” iwaizumi ordered. “and listen. beyond the g-spot is the cervix, which is basically the end of the vagina. if you’re long enough,” he briefly scanned each of their faces, “which i’m sure you are, you’ll be able to reach it if you bottom out.”

“haji—hajime, please.” the stimulation was coming absolutely unbearable, and you could tell he was sadistically holding you at the edge, refusing to give you the satisfaction of finishing. “lemme cum, please. please lemme cum, please, please, i can’t—i can’t take it ‘nymore!”

“what was that? you can’t take it anymore? gonna cum?” you helplessly bobbed your head up and down, hoping that he’d give you permission. “well,” he growled, “we can’t have that happening, can we?”

he abruptly halted his thrusts, pulling his fingers out of you with an embarrassing squelch and popping them into his mouth. pearly tears rolled down your cheeks as you grieved the loss of contact and relief.

your viewers looked on in horror, feeling immense sympathy for you; you just looked so dejected from being denied yet another orgasm.

“why didn’t you—why didn’t you let her cum?” bokuto asked.

“why do you think?” iwaizumi snapped. “don’t want you guys to see her when she does. that’s for me, and only me.”

“oh, okay,” he responded, disgruntlement clear in his voice.

iwaizumi’s glare could cut glass, it was so sharp. the possessiveness that had enveloped his mind made him hyperfocus on just one thought: being alone with you. “so, any other questions? if not, we’re done here.”

you pouted at that, not wanting the demonstration to be over. “but haji,” you mumbled into his collarbone. “i di’nt get to cum. and i wanna.” you looked up at him, eyes wide with want. “please make me cum.”

iwaizumi sent a harsh glance to the players that nonverbally communicated his message loud and clear: get out. they shuffled awkwardly out of the locker room due to the hardness between their legs that they would most definitely need to deal with soon.

your boyfriend turned his attention back to you. “’m sorry, i know i had to deny you a bunch of times. i just really hated the idea of anyone but me seeing the cute way you look when you cum.”

you made a small noise of acknowledgement and a little whisper of it’s okay, haji. he looked down, sensing the way your poor, desperate cunt was pulsing around nothing, the erotic sight injecting him with the pure need to ravage you.

he shifted his head to kiss you passionately. “why don’t i make it up to you?” he breathed between your parted lips before picking you up by the backs of your thighs, forcing you to lock your ankles around his waist. 

he delicately situated you onto one of the recovery beds at the back of the room, before murmuring something that made your pussy throb in anticipation: “i’ll make you cum whichever way you want, however many times you want, all right? all you gotta do is lay back and take it.”

© property of hornime 2021. do not plagiarize any of my writing and do not repost/copy my writing onto any other sites.

[spencersawkward]

*concussions and confessions//spencer reid*

summary: a near-death experience encourages Spencer to admit his feelings for his best friend, even at the risk of ruining their relationship.

pairing: Fem!Reader/Spencer

content warnings: oh boy there’s a lot. i’ll start with the nonsexual ones-- choking (again, not sexual), blunt force, violence, some angst. ok time for the fun ones-- unprotected penetrative sex, masturbation, sex dream, oral (male receiving), slight dirty talk, creampie. lmk if there are more that i missed! 

word count: 5.4k

A/N: hi omg so i actually combined two requests for this bc i loved the concepts and i didn't wanna do one and not the other. i hope i do both of these justice hehe thanks for sending them! also sorry if the unsub scene sucks-- i don’t usually write that way, so i tried my best. 

request(s): omg if you need ideas for baby spence can you do a one shot where he's the girls best friend (she's not in the bau) and they are in love but neither of them admit it and he is really hurt in a case or almost dies or something traumatic and only when he gets back they confess their love... and then have sex 😏 ive been thinking about this concept alot 😌

can’t stop thinking about baby spencer (like s2-s4) & his girl best friend losing their virginity to each other... can you write a one shot on this please?

masterlist

"when are you coming back?" you ask over the line. you're lying on your bed, legs in the air while you talk to your best friend. it's been a long day for you, but a longer day for him. it's always a longer day for him. 

"you know that I don't know the answer to that question." Spencer's voice is soft as he attempts to keep quiet. he's two hours ahead and, despite the fact that you're both night owls, the person he's rooming with tonight isn't. 

"I know, but there's this Korean film festival that starts tomorrow and I was hoping you would be here to translate for me." you examine your nails while you talk. Spencer lets out a disappointed sigh. 

it's only been a few days since he left, but it's been a week since you last saw him and it feels like a long time. whenever he's not at work, you two are joined at the hip. ever since you first met a few years back at a poetry convention in DC, it feels like he's the only person who understands you. which is weird, because you couldn't be more different as individuals. 

"you should bring one of your other friends." 

"bold of you to assume I have other friends." you joke. Spencer chuckles to himself and your heart flutters. you love his laugh more than anything in the world. 

"I thought that was just me." he says. 

"oh, it is just you," you reply flatly. "I was trying to make you feel better."

you can practically feel Spencer smiling through the phone. although you tease him pretty frequently, he's sometimes able to get in his own shots. it's what makes your friendship interesting.

"hey," you add before he can say anything more. "how's the case going?" 

Spence starts to detail the whole thing, and you listen intently, the timbre and smoothness of his voice comforting you as you slip beneath the covers of your bed. you like the way he enunciates his words, his strange manner of speaking, because it lulls you to sleep. 

you know he's talking about horrible things, but something about the sound comforts you deeply. when he's not around, you're wishing you had it bottled up. 

he lays out their profile as it stands, and you fall silent. it's getting pretty late and you have to be up early for work tomorrow, so it would be a good idea to get some real rest. plus, Spencer needs to sleep, too-- even though he probably won't. 

you remember times when he'd call you at three in the morning, his mind whirring as he played chess against himself and asked if you wanted to hang out so he could teach you how. you hate chess, but of course you said yes; you'd been head over heels with him since your first conversation.

eventually, you feel yourself start to drift off. you don't even really know what he's saying; all of it blends together until you're laying there, one cheek pressed to the pillow and the receiver against the other. 

"Y/N?" he says your name abruptly and your eyes, which have been slowly drawing shut this whole time, fly open. 

"yeah?" 

"go to bed."

"what? no, I'll wait until you're done." you shift. 

"I could hear your breathing change." 

"then why didn't you just hang up?" you giggle. he goes silent for a moment and you wonder if he cut out, but then he responds. 

"I wanted to say goodnight." 

it's like a cage of butterflies is unleashed in your stomach. you wrinkle your nose as you get nervous. god, you miss him. things would be so much better if he was back. not like he'd be in your bed even if he was, though.  

"then say goodnight." you prod. he lets out an awkward little sound. 

"now I can't because you made it weird." 

"how did I make it weird?" 

"I don't know, you just did." he's so clumsy, your face heats up. you want to keep talking like this until morning.

"goodnight, Spence," the words sound reluctant, but you try to cover it up by teasing him further. "see, was that so bad?" 

"oh my god, Y/N--" he tries to sound exasperated. 

"no goodnight back?" you raise an eyebrow even though he can't see you right now.  

a lengthy silence again. "goodnight."

"that's what I thought." before he can protest, you end the call, settle into the covers. moonlight beams on the walls of your apartment, and you start to think about your best friend. about all the nights spent curled up on his couch with two bowls of popcorn, his ramblings about how much he loves his job and him asking about yours. 

he's a great listener. every time you talk, he nods along like he's hanging off every word. it's nice to feel heard that way, to have someone care. and he's fun to hang out with, too. you've met his team before and they all talk about how hard it is to get him to go out, but they don't see the same side of him that you do. 

Spencer is nerdy and cute and kind and sensitive. he makes you feel special. he's everything that you've ever wanted in a person. but it's not like it would matter, anyway. he hasn't really shown interest in any girls-- much less you. even if he did, you're scared of ruining the friendship. 

the fallout of not having him around at all... it would destroy you. and something, even if it's torturous, is better than nothing. 

which is why, as you sit there and remember being around him, your fingertips creep below the comforter. a familiar routine, they move over your stomach, until they reach the waistband of your panties. for a moment, you hesitate. it's wrong. he's your best friend. but he doesn't need to know that this is how you handle the ache he puts between your legs. 

as your index finger slides down your slit, you feel the wetness already forming. Spencer's hands, his mouth. the thought of his lips pressed to yours while he fucks you, holding your body like it's delicate. 

you don't know exactly how it would feel because you've never had sex, but you want to find out with him. he's never done it, either. you don't care; all you need is to have him inside of you, to see how he looks when he's on the edge. 

your mind wanders to the image of him parting your legs and rolling his eyes into the back of his head. the sensation of him filling you up. falling apart. 

you slide a finger inside, gasping at the way your walls tighten and your imagination runs wild. that tongue, lapping and making you squirm, your fingers twisted in his soft hair. he's so sweet; his attentiveness would make your legs shake. you want to look into his eyes while he does it. 

you add a second finger, curl them and brush over the most sensitive part. the pressure of his hips grinding into yours. your body curves up at the way you start to finger yourself, the other hand stimulating your clit. it's almost overwhelming, the way his name tumbles from your lips over and over. 

you've never wanted someone so badly in your life; he belongs in your bloodstream. the sounds he would make in your ear before finally cumming and collapsing on top of you, spent. you want to tire him out and then do it all over again. 

you're greedy on the edge, indulging in every single image of him you can conjure up, every dirty thing you'd say. finally, you feel yourself fall, the orgasm intense as you bite back groans of pleasure and work through the high. it's amazing. 

you sit there, panting, feeling your heart beat in your chest. some things can't leave your head, they're so sinful. and the worst part is that you don't regret it in the slightest. 

...

Spencer can feel his pulse practically leaping against his throat as he makes his way through the empty warehouse. he should have waited for backup; he knows he should have, but it's too late now to go back and change things. 

he clutches his gun, pointing it in front of him while his eyes flicker wildly across the space. he's moving between enormous aisles stuffed with crates, not knowing who else is around. they said the unsub brought his newest victim here-- Spencer came first because was closest to the site-- but he hears nothing aside from the uneven rhythm of his own breath. 

every step is careful. he's thinking about how close the rest of the team must be. based on their distance from the station, they should arrive within six minutes-- but that doesn't account for the time it takes to put on their bulletproof vests, to get to their cars. 

truthfully, he doesn't know if he's going to have to do this on his own. and that scares him the most. 

there's no point in worrying. he swallows the lump in his throat and presses his back to one of the crates. there's a scraping noise a ways off that causes him to freeze. because of the echoes of the warehouse, the origin is indiscernible. he doesn't breathe, eyes darting between each of the openings into the aisle. 

after a minute of pure silence, he peels himself away and turns to head back out. 

and that's when the sound of wood cracking against bone startles him; he hears it before he feels it, but it's obvious when he crumples to the floor. like knife points pressing into his brain at all angles, the shooting agony in his skull. 

he starts to clutch at his head, only to be yanked off the ground by a meaty hand and thrown against the side of a crate. 

"fucking feds." the guy is enormous. gargantuan. he keeps his arm across Reid's throat, pressing down enough to restrict his airway. but Spencer can't even concentrate on the guy's face further than its rough outlines. his vision is going in and out, fuzzy at the edges from the blow to his head. 

he definitely has a concussion. 

"I..." he trails off. the huge FBI logo on his vest is a dead giveaway. 

"all alone?" the unsub has breath like rotten fish, spits each word into his face. "I won't even need my gun." 

Spencer's head lolls to the side and he catches sight of his own weapon lying helplessly a few feet away. there's no way he could get to it in time, even if he got out of this guy's chokehold. 

he tries to think of a way to talk himself out of this; after all, their profile said he'd be more susceptible to negotiation, but that's kind of hard to do with someone's forearm slammed against your trachea. he presses harder and Spencer sees stars. his glasses hang almost off the bridge of his nose, centimeters from falling to the floor. 

he starts to realize that he's going to die, defenseless and alone, in a warehouse. at the hands of a man who kills women because his Viagra doesn't work. but this doesn't incite the kind of panic Spencer always predicted he'd feel. the lack of oxygen in his brain causes him to go delirious. 

he misses home. his mom and his old house, even though things were hard. he misses Y/N, his team members. he wishes his team was here; he should have waited for them. he should have told Y/N how he feels. now she's never going to know. 

Reid is so out of it, he doesn't even notice the pressure being relieved from his throat until he collapses on the ground. the unsub falls, too, his cheek smashed by the force of the abandoned wooden plank. 

it's hard to tell what's happening until Reid lifts his head to see Morgan standing above him, preparing to handcuff the criminal.

"kid," Spencer never thought he'd be so glad to hear his voice. "what happened?"

...

you practically crash into Spencer's apartment the next evening, flinging your body through the front door with your spare key. 

"Spence?" you call out from the entryway. everything still looks the same, but when his colleague, Penelope, called you today to tell you that Reid had gotten a concussion after a run-in with an unsub, you rushed here as soon as you could. 

"in here." he calls from his bedroom. you don't hesitate, your feet carrying you there. you've been anxious all day; he didn't call last night or even text like usual. you were on the verge of panicking when Penelope called. 

of course, you knew that was the risk with Spencer. he knew the risk, too. his life would always be in the balance when it came to the cases, but he'd gone through so many at this point, you weren't thinking about it. if you did, you wouldn't be able to focus on anything else. 

when you walk in, the first thing you see is Spencer laying in bed in his silk pjs. there's a stack of unread books on his bedside table. his glasses sit on top. he's just laying there with his eyes closed. 

"oh my god." you mutter, dropping your bag on the floor and walking over. he opens his eyes with a slight smile. there's a purple bruise forming across his throat, light but definitely there.  

"hi." 

"what the fuck happened?" you ask the question you've been wondering the whole way here. 

"he hit me with a plank." Spencer explains, the phrase coming out like he's still confused about it. "I'm fine, just a mild concussion and a bruise because he choked me." 

you take a second to assess if he actually means that he's okay, or if he's trying not to worry you. he stares at your expression for a second. 

"Y/N, I'm really fine." 

"you don't look fine." you gesture to the fact that he's laying in bed. 

"my body is sore, but nothing's wrong with me. I just can't look at screens or read." this last part makes him much more melancholy, it seems. you reach down and ruffle his hair playfully. 

"sounds like a nightmare." 

"it is." he cracks up. 

"I'm glad you're okay." you sigh. your heart rate has slowed to a reasonable pace now that you know he's fine. Spencer gives a ghost of a smile, and when he pats the empty spot on the bed beside him, you kick off your shoes and climb over his body to sit down. "so... did you guys get him?" 

"the unsub?" he turns his head to look at you. something is in his eyes that you can't read. "yeah, he's in custody. we saved the girl he abducted, too." 

"well, aren't you a hero?" you grin, pinching his arm. 

"ow!" he flinches. "don't hurt the patient."

"oh, so now you're injured?" you giggle softly. his smile fades a bit, gaze trailing from your face to your legs. it isn't lustful or anything, more like he's taking in your existence. it still makes your heart flutter. 

"I wasn't really a hero, anyway," he sighs. "I got knocked down before I even found her." 

"oof." you wince. 

"yeah, it's sort of embarrassing. I went in by myself and--"

"you went by yourself?" you clarify, turning to face him. of course he did. 

"yeah." he avoids your gaze. 

"Spencer, I work in a stationery shop and I know you're supposed to wait for backup." you deadpan. he snorts, staring straight ahead at the wall. his hair is flat in the back from where he's been resting it against the headboard. 

"he would have hurt her if I had waited." he explains. your heart softens a bit at this. you know Spencer has a problem with saving people; sometimes he doesn't think things through. but you know that it's only because he cares. 

you smile gently, appreciating what a beautiful person he is. you don't understand how other people don't see him how you do. your hand reaches for his suddenly, and you find yourself snuggling into his shoulder. 

Spencer doesn't usually like touch, but he welcomes this, dropping his own head to rest on top of yours while you both stare at the wall. his silence feels heavy, more than it usually does, and you wonder what he's thinking. 

"I'm really glad you're okay, Spencer." your tone is low, like it's a secret. 

"you already said that." 

"shut up." 

"you care about me." he sing-songs with a smile, and you know he means it in a friendly way, but you don't care. it brings warmth to your cheeks. 

"whatever. you care about me, too." 

he lets out a slight chuckle. "when I started to black out, I thought of you." 

your heart leaps, even though the reason is pretty dark. "oh, yeah?"

"mhmm." he hums. 

"nobody's ever told me that they thought of me in their last moments of life before." you tease. there are so many things you'd like to say, but know you can't. he smells like himself and coffee beans, his skin warm beneath the silk of his pajamas. 

"I'd hope not."

"anything in particular?" you wonder aloud. 

"what?" you feel him tense beneath you, and that's how you know there's something he's not telling you. 

"were you thinking about anything in particular?" 

"someone's full of themselves." he jokes. you smack his arm.  

"humor me." more than anything, you want to hear his thoughts. you know you're reaching, but you don't care. 

"just..." he pauses, the next words coming out almost too quietly to hear. "things I never got to say to you." 

"like?" now you're intrigued. 

"no way." he laughs and you groan, turning and realizing that you've both sunk deeper onto the bed and are now practically lying down. 

"c'mon," you prod. you've flipped onto your side while you watch him, his eyes directed at the ceiling. "what if you'd actually died?" 

Spencer gives you a look, and you wish you could snap a picture of his face. the gentle features, the warmth in his eyes. he stares at you differently than before, and it makes your stomach flip again. "I, um." 

you start to trace your index absently down his forearm, where his sleeve has incidentally gotten rolled up. his skin is soft. you know that this isn't a friendly thing to do, but something inside you craves his touch right now. you almost lost him; you can't imagine how horrible that would be. 

"I wanted to say that I--" he gulps, muscles in his shoulder tight beneath your cheek. "well, I care about you, and I... I really love you." 

it's not the first time he's said it, obviously in a platonic sense. what affects you is that he's acting like it's a big deal. 

"I love you too, Spence." you smile softly. his chest rises and falls faster, his face tensed. 

"no, I mean--" he turns onto his side, using the action to distract from his own nervousness. he holds your gaze and you forget how to breathe as he speaks. every syllable is serious, but you note his fingers fidgeting at his side. "I'm in love with you." 

it's like all the air in the room has been sucked out. you swallow, unsure of how to react at first. you don't believe what you're hearing, simply because it doesn't make sense. you've been friends for a while, now, but Spencer has never made a move to ask you out or acted like he wanted anything more. 

your heart swells. 

"you're in love with me?" the words even feel surreal on your tongue. he takes it as rejection.

"I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry." Spencer rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, his expression turning to a cringe. he's about to sit up to hide the red in his cheeks, but you pull him back down by the shoulder. 

"not so fast, crazy boy." the corners of your mouth are turning up into a grin. you can't help it; every nerve in your body is alive. Spencer loves you. he feels the same way. 

when he sinks back down onto the mattress and sighs, preparing to say something that rescinds the statement to erase any awkwardness, you grab his face and turn it to yours. you don't kiss him, only force him to look. 

"I'm in love with you, too." 

his eyebrows fly up in surprise. "r-really?"

"yes." you nod. 

he takes a second to process this. you see about five different expressions pass over his face, each one reminding you of how earnest he is. and it's absolutely adorable. 

"well, that's good, isn't it?" he clarifies. you pretend to think on it. 

"I'd say so, yeah." 

he smiles. a genuine, rare one that makes your veins feel as if they're full of glitter. you're on Cloud 9. 

"can I kiss you?" you ask him quietly. he seems surprised at this, too, like he never thought you'd want that, but then nods eagerly. 

you close the gap between you on the bed, holding his jaw in one hand while the other rests on his forearm. your lips meet softly at first. he's cautious, scared of pushing you away. he hasn't kissed many people before. but he's good at it, letting you take the lead. 

there's no way to adequately describe kissing Spencer. every bone in your body turns to mush, immediately craving more contact. you slide your tongue across his full bottom lip, and he lets you in. his affection is the most loved you've ever felt. because sure, you haven't had sex, but you've kissed people before. 

never like this. 

one of his hands goes up to wrap around your forearm tenderly before he shifts to lie on his side. you wrap around each other, turning the kiss into a full-body embrace as you breathe in. you want more. your leg swings over his torso so you can pull yourself closer, and he groans into your mouth when your pelvis presses against his. 

the kiss gets more heated, his hands carefully but hungrily traveling down the curve of your waist. you flip so that you're straddling him without breaking any contact. 

you don't really think about the way your hips begin to rock against his, your pussy involuntarily working for friction. there are so many happy chemicals in your brain right now, you giggle against his mouth when his body bucks up into yours. he groans. 

"Y/N..." he breathes softly. his hands move from your waist to your thighs, afraid to dig his fingertips in. 

"what?" you sigh, licking over his bottom lip again. he moans at the way you keep grinding on his erection. 

"I wanna--" his eyelashes flutter when he gasps. "I wanna touch you." 

"do it." your palm is resting tenderly against his cheek. he responds by finally holding you down, sliding his body up a bit to grind against your center. you whine. "touch whatever you want, Spencer." 

his cock twitches in his pants and you push the hem of his shirt up while he uses one hand to massage your tits. the voracious, curious nature of his attention makes you sigh, touching his stomach. he feels perfect beneath you. 

soon you're grabbing at each other without any regard for grace. he's so horny, he's pawing at whatever he can while you do the same to him. the kissing gives way to straight panting while you look at each other. 

"can I suck your dick?" you whisper. Spencer's eyes widen. you've never seen him nod so fast. 

you press your mouth to his one more time before inching down his body, sucking on his clavicle, then his stomach. careful to avoid the purple marks on his neck. he watches you intently, memorizing the details of this moment for later. when you reach the waistband of his pants, you peek up. he strains against the material. 

your mouth drops open and you draw your tongue over the clothed bulge, maintaining eye contact. Spencer throws his head back. his voice is high. "oh my god, oh my god." 

you smirk, licking it again. he clenches his jaw. "I'm gonna c-cum if you don't--" he tries for words, but he's mewling and moving against your mouth. you pull at his pants, hooking your fingers in his boxers and bringing them down, too. 

Spencer bucks into the air when his cock hits his stomach. it's big, precum leaking helplessly out of the tip while he whines. you want him now. 

"wow." you smile. he stares at you, tensing his stomach as you wrap your hand around his length. he's trying to keep quiet, but as soon as you spit on it and start to pump him, his head falls back into the pillow. 

you draw your tongue up the underside, paying special attention to the veins, reveling in his reactions. he looks like he's ascending to heaven when you start to suck on the first couple inches.  

"o-oh, fuck..." he keeps moving his hips off the bed for more, so you sink down further onto him, hollowing your cheeks and moaning. "Y/N..." 

you groan in response, feeling yourself get wetter with every sound he makes. you can't believe this is happening, the way he threads his fingers loosely through your hair in an attempt to touch more of you.

he tries to keep his eyes open while you suck, but they squint with pleasure. he's a mess for you, shuddering gently when you take nearly all of him into your mouth. 

before he can cum, you pull your mouth off of him with a satisfying pop. Spencer moans. 

"was that okay?" you ask carefully. this is the extent of your sexual experience, and you want to do more with him, but you aren't sure how he feels. your best friend stares back at you like you've turned his world upside down. 

"y-yeah," he replies. his face is flushed. "definitely okay."

he's throbbing, occasionally twitching against his stomach as he waits for more stimulation. you eye him carefully. 

"what do you feel comfortable doing?" your voice is smooth. "we can stop now, if you'd like." 

"I--" he chokes on the word. "I don't wanna stop." 

"do you want to have sex?" you ask. Spencer bites his lip, whines. 

"mhmm." 

"I wanna do that, too," you breathe out, straightening up and pulling your shirt over your head, unclasping your bra, before getting to work on your shorts. you know you're practically dripping. he's been more vocal, but you feel like you're going to implode from the desire. "but I need to tell you something." 

"what?" he tugs your arm, coaxing you back to him and touching you greedily. you giggle as you kick your shorts and panties off somewhere in the room. both of you move like awkward teenagers. 

"I'm a virgin." you say. 

Spencer frowns. "really?" 

"yeah," you lick your lips. "so you need to be careful." 

"o-of course." he blushes, getting nervous again. "you know I'm a virgin too, right?"

"I know." you smile. he returns it sweetly, and the commotion of your bodies slows for a moment. you're so happy, you could cry. 

"what?" he breaks the comfortable silence. 

"I'm excited," you shrug. he's got his hands on your waist, rubbing his fingertips over your skin. then you remember something. "wait, are you allowed to have sex with your... injury?" 

"it's fine." he reaches up and kisses your throat with an urgency. 

"did the doctor say that?" your eyes roll while he sucks on your neck. he groans and pulls down on your waist so that your stomach presses against his cock. he ruts. 

"second opinion from me." he pants. you tap his cheek playfully, move up his body until your core brushes him. he whimpers when you reach between your bodies and grip his length in your hands. 

"you ready?" your voice is low. Spencer squeezes your thighs, eyes moving between your tits and your face. 

"yes." he sighs. you position it, slicking him in your pussy while he wraps an arm around your waist and moans for more. your chests are pressed together, looking into each other's eyes while you slide him into you. 

you have to go slow, the intrusion causing your jaw to drop. you don't breathe. he's got his eyes rolled into the back of his head.  

"Spencer." you whimper, dropping your head onto his chest when he's fully inside of you. his fingers rub patiently over your back. 

"are you okay?" his voice is laced with a moan, trying to resist thrusting. 

"yeah, just a second." you wiggle a little bit to test the boundaries. it hurts, but it also feels good. your clit is begging for more pressure, so you start to roll your hips. Reid moans loudly. 

"Y/N..." he whimpers. "don't stop." 

"you want more?" the need in his voice makes you hornier, and you increase the pace, despite the slight pain. you're so wet, he slides in and out without much effort. 

"so-- much more." he's gasping, hands on your thighs as he watches your naked body writhe on top of him. he's never been more aroused in his life, spurred on by your scent and form and the tightness that keeps clenching around his cock.

he understands why people love sex so much, now. he wants it every day, wants to fuck you in every position and pleasure you. the sounds you release in his ear, whines and praises, he would do anything for more. walk to the ends of the earth to feel you cum on his cock. 

his hand finds your ass, squeezes it. 

"this feel good, Spence? fucking your best friend?" you talk dirty and he twitches. you're always so sweet, the words coming out of your mouth for him are going to send the genius into a tailspin. 

"mhmm," he holds you down so that he can thrust up. speaking at all is a struggle with the way he's feeling. "perfect." 

you start to say something else, but he hits a certain angle and you let out a quiet yelp, hips jumping at the pleasure. "I'm gonna cum." 

Spencer gets a rush of relief because it's taking everything in him right now not to absolutely lose it inside your pussy. he's hanging on by a thread. "me, too." 

you use your position on top to stimulate yourself. both of you chase your orgasms roughly, the rhythm you created degenerating into clawing excitement. 

"cum inside me, Spencer." you beg him. it sounds like you would do anything to feel it, that sensation that you've never experience but have always imagined. and Spencer, his own head foggy with ecstasy, nods and opens his mouth to let out a loud groan. 

"Y/N, fuck fuck fuck-- I'm--" he shoots his load inside of you, rutting wildly and letting his head drop onto the pillow while he pants. you can feel it. strange, lovely jolts of his seed spreading. your hands, which have been resting on his shoulders, tighten and you reach your climax. you flutter around him, both of you still moving to ease the intensity of the high. 

it's remarkable. you're crying out, having the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life. you never thought your first time would be like this. but you're glad it is, muscles tightening and releasing with the mixture of emotions. 

you collapse fully, him still inside. 

neither of you speaks. his heartbeat thuds against your ear, and you hold onto him like letting go would be the end of the world. you can't believe you could have lost him. you don't want to think about it. 

"sorry I came so fast." Spencer apologizes breathlessly. you can feel his cum dripping down your entrance when he slides out. 

"I don't care." you mumble. both of you stay there for a while, his heartbeat changing to a pace that reminds you of genuine excitement. like a hummingbird. 

"we can try again, sometime." he offers. you lift your head to rest your chin on his chest. his skin is flushed, pupils dilated, hair messy. such a pretty boy. 

"we should try multiple times." 

he gives you a cheerful smile, and everything starts to fall into place. you took each other's virginity. "Y/N?" 

he likes to say your name, and you love to hear it. "yes?" 

"are we dating?" the bluntness of the question makes you giggle. you don't hesitate. 

"yeah." 

“good.”

taglist (lmk if you wanna be added/removed!): @reidsconverse @voidsfilm @xoxomgg​ 

[bethiewhimsy]

would i beat them in a fist fight, no abilities and no weapons: bsd edition

ive been seeing this on tiktok and i wanna join so,,, let’s go lolol

ARMED DETECTIVE AGENCY:

fukuzawa - hell to the nah,, he would CRUSH me and i’d say i’m sorry

kunikida - it’d be the lecture after he’d beat me up that would be so horrible

atsushi - i think it’d be a draw. just because I feel we’d go easy on each other,,, he wouldn’t really have a reason to fight me and thus wouldn’t really want to, and i don’t want to hurt him ever sooo,, yeah

ranpo - i would give him a little slap and call it good. i wanna stay in his good graces

naomi - hell yeah she’d be OBLITERATED

junichiro - if it’s after beating up naomi, i’m not making it out of this fight alive. it it’s before beating up naomi, i think it’d be a draw.

kenji - would not fight him (maybe a draw)

kyouka - also would not fight her (she would curb stomp me)

yosano - she would DESTROY me,, and i’d be okay with that

dazai - i would strategize before fighting this mf. i would definitely try flattery first and yk as a woman he’d probably be more susceptible maybe??? if that doesn’t work, i’ll pull the “sad backstory/emotional manipulation” tactic, yk the waterworks and all that fun stuff, maybe put my oda kinnie to good use. .......okay this is just a roundabout way to say that yes he would beat me but i don’t want to live with that humiliation

PORT MAFIA

mori - oh my goodness would i do my damndest, but no he would kill me

chuuya - NOPE I AM DEAD,, even without his ability and weapons i would be. he may only be like two inches taller than me but he holds much more rage then i do

akutagawa - listen listen,,,,,, everybody’s saying they could beat him because he’s like super weak without his ability. and i’m going to give him a good run, don’t get me wrong. but ultimately? no im a goner (and i’d give it to him)

gin - BETHIE HAS EXPIRED

higuchi - i think i could take her. or at least it’d be a fair fight

tachihara - i think it’d also be a fair fight. i’m gonna go with draw for this one

q - sooner fist fight myself than this child. mostly because i fear them,, but also why would i want to beat up a literal child??? they’ve already been through too much, i’ll take them out for some ice cream is what i’ll do

koyo - no i am deader than a doornail

kajii - im beating this guy UP,, nothing against him (i guess) he is just a face i could definitely punch

HUNTING DOGS

fukuchi - i would cheat in order to do my worst to this fucker. i would wear brass knuckles, i would bite and scratch and pull hair, i would sneak a knife, i would put poison in his water, i would do ANYTHING. in the end though? he’s putting me in a body bag

teruko - it’d be a fair fight, i’d say a draw. she ain’t special gouging out her own ear canal, i’ve done that too. mf bitch

jouno - will not fight him. unless he asks me to. anything for you babe <3

tecchou - omg he’s beating the SHIT out of me

DECAY OF ANGELS

bram - he literally can’t catch these hands

fyodor - i probably could tbh,, but i fear him too much so i’d let him win

nikolai - i am running from this fight. i am fleeing with my tail between my legs. he’d probably chase me and STILL kill me helppp

sigma - yeah he’s going down. i love him but there is no way he knows how to fist fight.

OTHER LADS

ango - yes

mushitarou - yes

poe - also yes

[austarus]

HR Wells x Reader - Reversal of Denouement

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

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

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

Word Count: 8251

MASTERLIST

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

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

It had become unbearable.

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

***

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

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

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

“Amtrack does trains.”

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

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

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

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

“What about my chest?”

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

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

“A week and a half.”

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

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

Odd.

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because he hurt you, HR.”

“…”

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

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

And the world continues to move on.

***

“When are you going to tell him?”

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

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

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

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

“-A curse.”

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ok?”

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

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

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

“Ok.”

“So, go make your move.”

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

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

“Excuse me?”

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

“Francisco Ramon, I am going to-”

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

Shit, what am I going to do?

***Day 1***

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

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

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

“What’s in the box?”

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

“You ok?”

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

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

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

“HR, how are you showering?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***Multiple Days Pass***

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

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

“How are you?”

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

“It’s fine.”

“You sure?”

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

“Right. Nothing going on whatsoever?”

“Iris.”

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

“See what?”

“How smitten you are for him.”

“I’m not-”

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

***

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

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

So please don't break my heart

Don't tear me apart

I know how it starts

Trust me I've been broken before

Don't break me again

I am delicate

Please don't break my heart

Trust me I've been broken before

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

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

“Need any help?”

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

My last made me feel like I would never try again

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

Come closer, I'll give you all my love

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

“(Y/N).”

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

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

“Uh huh.”

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

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

“Things changed when Tracy came into the picture.”

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

Do you love her, HR?

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.”

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“No.”

“Want to talk about it?”

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

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

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

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

“Huh??”

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

“A voice?”

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

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

“How could I forget?”

“I-I don’t understand.”

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

“…”

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

“She hates me.”

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

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

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

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

“… Did she hurt you?”

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

“Deny what?”

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

“Why?”

“I didn’t know then… but I know now.”

“And?”

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

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

“I don’t think you will.”

“You don’t know that!”

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

“How can you trust me so much?”

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

“Do you hate me?”

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

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

[viking-raider]

Southern Generation - Part IV

Summary: Sy wakes up in Lily’s arms and shows his gratitude for her comforting him. The mysterious caller is revealed, causing Sy to get extremely protective.

Pairing: Captain Syverson/OFC

Word Count: 7,178

Rating: M - Language, Protective!Sy, Domestic Kink, Stalking, Harassment, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Confession, Smut - Nipple stimulation, intercourse, orgasm, cream pie. 

Inspiration: Always wanted to write a Sy fic and this is a re-work on an old fic I wrote several years ago.

Author’s Note: Thank you for all the love and support, @wondersofdreaming​! Your ideas, suggestions and encouragement mean the world to me, and my stories.

Sy woke the next morning wrapped around a warm body and a steady heart beat in his ear, he tipped his head back and was met with Lily's sleeping face, his head pillowed on her breasts. He smiled, hugging his arms snugger around her waist and sighed, comfortable and peaceful, nuzzling his face into her chest.

Lily moaned softly, making Sy smile against the fabric of the night shirt she was wearing, her hand moved against the broad expanse of his back, fingertips sleepily caressing his spine, unconsciously soothing him, before moving between his shoulder blades, tickling the nape of his neck and rubbing the back of his head with her palm.

He vaguely remembered her calling his name and holding him after his nightmare, whispering into his ear that he was safe and at home, with her. Lily made the choice to bring him to her bed, comforting him even more, until he fell asleep, and for the first time in years, Sy actually dreamt about something other than war and endless spaces of bloody sand.

Reaching up, Sy brushed his fingers through her bangs, smiling. “My Angel.” He whispered, not wanting to wake her.

Carefully unwrapping himself from around her, Sy slipped out of bed and gingerly covered Lily up, before tip toeing downstairs to the kitchen. Scratching the back of his head for a moment, Sy moved about the kitchen, setting up the coffee maker, pulled out the skillet and started making breakfast. He figured she had been making him breakfast every morning for the last several months, it was time for him to return the favor.

So, Sy went all out, once he had everything made, he brought it upstairs to her.

Lily took a deep breath and moaned, stretching and rolling onto her back, but found Sy was no longer in bed with her. She sat up, panicked that something had happened to him, and was about to get out of bed to look for him, when he appeared in the bedroom door, relieved he was all right.

“Morning.” He smiled, finding her sitting up.

“Did you make breakfast?” She frowned as he approached her side of the bed.

“I did.” He nodded, setting her steaming cup of tea on her bedside table. “I thought, since you always make me breakfast, that I'd make you breakfast this go around.” Sy explained, setting the tray of food over her lap.

“What's better than breakfast in bed?”

“Nothing currently comes to mind.” Lily smiled, a soft blush on her cheeks, actually pleasantly surprised at this change of events, touched at Sy’s sweet gesture.

“I didn't think so.” Sy chuckled, pulling up the chair that was at a small desk in her room and sat down, balancing his own plate of food in his lap.

“So, what's on your agenda today, Captain?” She asked, taking a sip of her tea and was surprised to find it was exactly to her liking.

“I think, it's time I started working on the roof.” He replied, bringing his fork to his mouth. “I want to at least give it some temporary patches, before the weather turns.” He told her, after swallowing. “It'll also give me a chance to find out what all the problems with it are, and if I'll need to re-roof it.”

“I hope not.” Lily frowned, washing down some of her food with a gulp of tea.

“Well, from what I've seen on the ground, it looks to be the original roof that was put on when the house was built.” He chuckled at her, setting his empty plate on her nightstand. “That was nearly a century ago.”

“Unless, you know about it being replaced since then?” He asked her, tilting his head.

“The realtor didn't mention it to me.” Lily replied, searching her mind for any scrap of memory of the day she bought the place.

“That's all right.” Sy assured her, gently touching her hand. “I'll get it done, don't you worry.”

Lily smiled at him, turning her hand to thread her fingers with his. “I'm not worried, since you're the one on the case.” She replied, softly.

Sy grinned at her, bringing her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers, before letting go and collecting their plates. “You know, what would you say, if I managed to install a dishwasher for you?” He asked, pausing in the doorway of her bedroom.

“I have a dishwasher.” Lily giggled, holding up her hands and wiggling her fingers at him.

“You know what I mean, sugar butt.” He laughed, smirking even broader at her.

Lily shrugged, still giggling at him, her cheeks coloring at his nickname. “I don't know, Bear. I've never had one before.”

“Well then, Angel, I'll riddle that one out for you.” He promised in a soft voice.

“I believe you.” She whispered back, giddy, and not for a dishwasher.

“I'm going to check the mail.” Lily said, drying her hands on a dish towel, after washing the dishes from lunch.

“All right.” Sy nodded, still sitting at the table.

Sy had stood to refill his coffee cup, when the phone rang. Biting his lip and glancing out of the kitchen, he saw Lily was too far down the driveway to call her back to answer it, so he picked it up instead; clearing his throat.

“Moore residence.” He spoke into the receiver.

“She's a sweet thing, isn't she?” A sinister voice asked from the other end.

“Excuse you?” Sy barked, a flash of hot anger bursting through his body.

“Oh yes.” The voice chuckled, incredibly delighted. “She is sweet as a Lily, so pure and good.”

“Who is this?” Sy demanded with a deep growl, his teeth gritted and bared as he gripped the handle of the phone even tighter in his hand.

“She's mine, you know.” They growled back at Sy, breathing heavily, their own anger mounting. “She's always been mine and she will always be mine.”

“Not anymore.” Sy hissed back and slammed the phone down in its cradle.

“Sy?” Lily frowned, coming into the kitchen as he hung up the phone. “Who was that?”

“I don't know, you tell me?” He replied, turning towards her, brows drawn together.

“I'm not the one that answered it, Austin.” She countered, shaking her head, confused by his anger.

“It was some guy, said you were his, always had been and would be.” Sy told her, pushing his jaw forward.

Lily's eyes glassed over, letting out a shuddering breath and started trembling. Sy blinked at her, his anger at the caller's words melting away to alarmed concern. He took a step forward, reaching out for her, but Lily stumbled away from him, tears finally spilling free.

“Lily.” He whispered softly, his chest tight. “Easy.” He cooed at her, licking his lips.

“I'm not his, not anymore.” She whimpered, shaking her head. “Why can't he just leave me be.”

Sy blinked at her, frowning harder. “What?”

“Nothing.” Lily mewled, biting her lip.

“No, come on.” He coaxed her, resting his hand on her arm and gently pulled her against him. “Tell me.” He whispered, gently rubbing her back.

“I thought I got away from him.” She sniffled against his shirt. “Thirteen hundred miles away from him. I was so careful—so careful.” She mumbled, hands clinging onto the sides of his shirt. “I don't-I don't know how he found me—unless...”

“Unless?” Sy frowned, still slowly rubbing her back and trying to process what she was telling him. “Sit down.” He said, moving them towards the breakfast table and pulled out a chair for her, before bringing the other one around from the other side to sit beside her.

“Start at the beginning.”

Lily cleared her throat and stared down at her hands, folded in her lap. “I was born and raised in Middleburg, Virginia. You know, that I'm an only child and that my mom died, when I was born. I was raised by my grandparents, because my dad was in and out of my life, before just finally disappearing from it, when I was nineteen.” She explained to him, licking her lips.

“He blamed me for my mom's death.” She added, quietly.

Sy reached out and rested his hand on her thigh, squeezing it gently, and gave her a sweet smile.

“When I was seventeen, I met a boy at church, Jak.” Lily continued to explain to him. “It was the only time I really got to interact with others, my grandparents were strict, homeschooling me and only really letting me out of the house, unless they were with me, which was usually only for church on Sunday.” She fidgeted, shyly. “He was the only boy to show any interest in me, which didn't and did surprise me. The little house on the prairie dresses my grandma made me wear, and the glasses I had back then, you could see the moon through them.” She chuckled, cheeks colored.

Sy smiled back at her, even picturing her as a little girl like that, he still found her beautiful.

“But, Jak didn't care, or at least he didn't say or show he did. I would sneak out at night to meet him in the apple orchard my grandfather grew. It had been in our family since the Revolutionary War, the land was given to my, how many times, great-grandfather as payment for his service in the war.”

“I bet it's beautiful.” Sy commented, warmed at the thought.

“They are, so many of the trees are the original ones that were planted.” She smiled back, picturing the orchard in her mind. “The first one that was ever planted, after he cleared away the land, is still there and yielding, there's a plaque staked by its roots, and people come from all around to see it and the orchard, the Warren Apple.”

Sy rested back in his chair. “Your family owns the Warren Orchard Company? You're one of those Warrens?”

“I am.” She nodded, smiling proudly at that fact, but it vanished.

“Anyway, Jak and I would sneak every moment we could to see each other. He even got a job, during the summer, in the orchard, so we could see each other even more.” She took a deep breath, letting it out softly. “But, a year after we met and started being sweet on each other, my grandparents lodged a missionary for his two year mission in our ward. Jak thought he and I were getting close, that my grandparents had actually brought him to live with us, so he and I could court and marry.”

“He grew jealous and possessive. I was stupid, naive and young, I didn't know what was happening, that he was being abusive, until it was almost far too late.”

“What happened, that caused you to realize it?” Sy asked, tilting his head at her.

“I met Jak in the orchard one night, when I was twenty, the day after the missionary went back home to Michigan, because his two years were up. When I got there, Jak was pacing, already angry. Livid. When he saw me, he started yelling about how he had seen me kissing the missionary, how we practically ate each other's faces on the back porch, while everyone else was in the house, during his farewell party.” She said, glancing out the window behind the breakfast table.

“Of course, I hadn't been. Matt, the Missionary, and I had been on the back porch together, I had gone out there to get away from the press of all the people and he went out there to check on me. We had hugged, only the once, since doing so isn't really acceptable, two not courting, unchaperoned kids. But, we did nothing more, before going back inside. The truth didn't matter to Jak though, he had his version of what he saw and it was unchangeable.” Lily bit her lip and gripped Sy's wrist as his hand still laid on her thigh. “He lost his temper and hit me, but in my love sick stupidity, I didn't break it off there or tell my grandparents about it.”

“Instead, I enrolled in a university for Photography and Web Design, moved out of my grandparents' place and into one with him, like an idiot.”

“You weren't an idiot, Lily.” Sy told her, shaking his head and slipping his hand into hers. “It's more common than you think.”

“I know it is.” She sighed, clinging onto his hand.

“He only got worse and it got harder for me to get my school work done, with him accusing me that I was sleeping with my project partners, even teachers.” She huffed, shaking her head at his allegations, that now sounded so ridiculous. “The straw that broke the camel's back was,” She paused, biting and licking her lips, fighting down a bubble of emotions and memories. “One of my project mates called to ask me about the faux website we were designing for a fake company we had to make up, cause she wanted to know what time was good for us to meet up, and Jak answered the phone, claimed he heard a guy in the background, throwing the phone across the living room and went ballistic, saying I was having her call me to set up a time for me and the guy he heard, to try and fool him.”

“He spent the next hour going to town on me.” She said, glancing up at him, the hint and meaning in her eyes.

“Afterwards, he went to work and I packed a bag. I had some money from the family orchard business, so I took a good portion of it, bought a greyhound bus ticket to a cousin I was close to in New Jersey, Maggie, and stayed with her, knowing he wouldn't find me there, my grandparents wouldn't think I'd go there, and she wouldn't ever rat on me. While I was there, I petitioned for a name change, from Liliana Warren to Lily Ana Moore, and finished my degree, then found this place and moved out here.”

“So, how do you think he found you?” Sy asked, worried about her safety and angry that this asshole had the audacity to hurt her and wanted to try and hurt her again, but he kept a lid on his temper, not wanting to frighten her anymore than she already was.

“I've been keeping tabs on my grandparents, mostly through my cousin.” Lily answered, biting her lip. “She called me a year ago, to tell me that my grandmother had a stroke, a pretty bad stroke at that. She's apparently wheelchair bound now. Maggie went down there to visit them, and my grandfather was talking about how he needed someone to work on the company website, when Maggie let it slip that I have a web design business.”

“Oh.” Sy let out, eyes wide.

“Yeah.” She nodded back. “So, of course, they got upset, understanding that Maggie knew what had happened to me and where I was and all that. She called afterwards, apologizing up and down to me for it. She didn't tell them where I was or anything like that, just that I was safe and fine, and if I wanted to contact them, I would.”

“Did you?”

“I did.” Lily sighed, voice tight. “I figured after four years, I owed them a call.”

“So, do you think they told Jak?”

“I don't know.” She shrugged. “But, a week after I called them, I started getting hang up calls, then calls where no one would say anything for a few minutes, before hanging up. Then, two months ago, I got a call that was different from the others, he said something to me, and a month ago, he said something being soon.”

The wires connected in Sy's brain. “That's what caused you to take all those pills.”

Lily gulped and bit her lip, eyes burning, as she nodded her head. “Ye-ah.” She choked, fear and anxiety starting to mount inside of her again.

“Hey, hey.”

Sy cooed, wrapping his arms around her and pulled her into his lap, hugging her against his chest. “It's all right, Lily. It's going to be all right, I promised to protect you and I will. You are safe with me, you will always be safe with me, whatever the cost.” He whispered in her ear, holding her close and planning ways and means to protect her.

“Sy?” Lily called from the open door of her bedroom, just as Sy stepped out of the hall bathroom, in nothing, but a pair of black boxers.

“Lily?” He replied, rubbing the towel over his head, and looked up at her, lifting a brow, inquisitively.

Lily rested her hand on the handle of her door and stepped sideways, giving a little motion of her head into her room, a soft and offering expression on her face. Sy blinked at her, surprised, then down at Aika, who sat in the doorway of his room, feeling like he was picking what lady to sleep with for the night.

He tilted his head at Aika and gave her a sympathetic expression.

“Sorry, Girl.” He whispered to the Shepherd, turning towards Lily.

Lily chuckled at him, smiling and shaking her head as he passed by her and into her room. “You can come too, Aika.” She called to her, then turned into her room.

“You're cool with this?” Sy asked, eyes motioning to her bed.

“It was my idea, wasn't it?” She smiled at him, then stepped inside her closet for a moment and came back in a t-shirt-like nightie with Mickey Mouse on it, before pulling down the blankets and crawling into bed.

“It was.” He nodded, then laid down with her, covering up.

Lily scooted closer to him and Sy draped his arm over her waist, tucking her against him and she let him lay his head on her chest, stroking his arm. She was comfortable with the warm weight of his body against hers, the clean scent of his skin and hair from his shower. She felt Sy's body slowly melt into hers as he fell asleep, it had been her plan. Lily knew there was a high likelihood of Sy having another episode or nightmare, but figured, if he was there, with her, already safe and comfortable in her arms, he wouldn't have it.

That was her deepest hope, at least.

But, the next thing Lily knew, she was being jerked roughly off the bed and pinned underneath Sy's mountainous weight, his heavy and hot breath puffing against the side of her face as he blanketed her with his body, clearly startled and on high alert. The room lit up with a quick flash of lightning and the furious sound of rain beating on all parts of the house filled the bedroom around them.

“Austin.” She gasped, grasping the back of his arms, nails digging into his sweaty skin, thinking he had been set off by the noise of the sudden storm. “Aust-”

“Ssshhh.” He hushed her, lips brushing her temple, the hairs of his beard tickling her skin. “Stay here.” He whispered into her ear, then moved off of her and out of the room, Aika sitting in the open doorway and growling into the darkness of the hallway after him.

Lily sat up on her elbows, knowing that what was happening couldn't have been from one of Sy's nightmares or the storm, because Aika wouldn't be acting like this, she was angry, like she was daring something Lily couldn't see to try and cross her. But, nothing came, not even Sy, and Lily was starting to get worried. So, getting up, she edged around Aika and tip toed downstairs, jerking at another boom of thunder and crack of lightning, until she found Sy standing in the entryway.

“Austin?” She called out to him, over the sound of the rain, which sounded much louder downstairs.

“I told you to stay upstairs.” He barked, not looking back at her.

“What's wrong?” She asked, knowing there had to be something, by the tone of his voice.

“Nothing, just go back to bed.”

Narrowing her eyes, Lily stepped closer to him and her eyes grew wide, seeing what had caused Sy to wake up and react like he had. The large bay window in the den that faced out onto the porch and the front of the property was smashed, the glitter of the broken glass shined in the lightning strikes and left the outline of the brick amongst them, the cause of the broken window. Lily's eyes snapped out the living room window, expecting to see someone, not just someone, but Jak, to be standing out in the yard, staring back at them. But, there was no one, but her and Sy's cars. Her heart started to race and pound, making her feel dizzy and lightheaded, trembling so hard she almost lost her balance, but caught herself on the back of the couch.

Sy turned and grabbed her, picking her up in his arms and carried her back up to bed. “Stay here.” He ordered her, pointing a stiff finger at her, then went back downstairs.

Going out back, Sy grabbed a large piece of plywood he had bought in preparation for repairing the roof and instead used it to board up the broken window, until the storm passed and morning came, so he could find a piece of glass to replace it, leaving him and the den floor mostly wet. He moped the den floor and laid out nearly every towel Lily had in the house in hopes the old floorboards wouldn't warp under the water damage.

He stepped out onto the porch for a moment, glaring into wet dark. “This is my house now.” He growled, knowing Jak was still out there somewhere nearby. “My girl.” He hissed, before turning back inside, going up to the guest room to change into a dry pair of boxers and joined Lily back in her bed.

“It was him.” She mumbled, hugging her pillow to her chest. “It had to be him.”

Sy sighed softly, locking his arms around her waist and hugged her to his chest, curving his body around hers. He didn't know what to say to her, they both knew it had to be Jak, who else would have thrown a brick through someone's window in the middle of a storm like this one, especially after all the other incidents over the last several months; all the lines drew back to Jak on his unhealthy, possessive rampage to reclaim Lily as his own. Sy was afraid that if he verbalized his agreement with her, it would only inflate her already inflamed fear of the obvious.

So, he just clutched her tighter to him, pressing his lips to her shoulder and squeezing his eyes shut against the bright flashes of lightning.

“Lily, I'm going to go to town, I have something I need to pick up.” He told her, searching the living room for his car keys.

“I thought you already ordered the new windowpane?” Lily called back, appearing out of the kitchen, where she was washing the dishes.

“I did.” He nodded, he had found a shop that he could order a replacement windowpane for the den window that morning, but it wouldn't be ready until the next day. “This is for something else.” He told her, finding his keys under a magazine on the coffee table.

“What are you going for, then, Bear?” She asked, tilting her head at him.

Sy paused and regarded her. “Don't worry about it, Angel. I'll be back in an hour.” He told her, then, went out.

“Okay.” Lily frowned, glancing out the living room window, the thunder and lightning had passed during the early morning, but it was still raining cats and dogs.

Sighing, Lily turned back into the kitchen, taking a bucket and mop out of the utility closet, filled the bucket with warm water and soap, before getting down to mopping the floors, with nothing else to do in the current weather.

Sy rushed out to his truck, but was still almost half soaked by the time he settled himself in the driver's seat. Turning on the car and cranking on the heat, Sy pulled off the property and headed towards Celina. He pulled into the small parking center the small town had, scanning the rain blurred signs, looking for the one he was heading for, before opening the door and rushing towards it, pulling open the door, with an electric ding, announcing his presence.

“How can I help you?” the shop owner asked, coming out of a small room in the back and stopped behind a long glass case.

“Yeah, I'm looking for something specific.” Sy replied, stopping on the other side of the glass case, a look of understanding in both men's eyes.

“What specifics would that be?”

“Taurus, PT111 G2, 9mm.” Sy rattled off with familiar ease.

“Do you have a license and ID?” The store owner asked, eyes scanning the case between them.

“Then, some.” Sy laughed, pulling out his wallet to show the man his qualifications.

“You're a retired Captain.” The man noted, seeing Sy's military ID.

“That I am.” Sy chuckled, grinning with some pride.

The store owner got Sy squared away with the weapon he wanted, a secure case and a couple rounds of ammo, while also chattering about the military, being a retired Staff Sergeant himself. Getting back into his truck, he put the case under the passenger seat, pausing to stare at it for a moment,emotions and thoughts brewing inside of him, then shook them off. Satisfied, Sy went back home to Lily, finding her dusting the living room, when he came in, carrying the case and sat it down on the coffee table.

Lily paused, dust rag poised above the mantelpiece, staring at the case. “Is that what I think it is?” She asked, finally looking up at him.

“If you think it's a gun, then yes.” Sy replied, sitting down on the couch and tugging on the soaked laces of his boots.

“Why,” She gulped, arm dropping to her side. “did you buy a gun and bring it here?”

“Because, I wanted to and as a precaution.” He answered her, yanking his boots off.

“A precaution?”

“There is a fucking asshole out there.” Sy barked, jerking his arm up and finger pointing out the window. “Trying to hurt you.” His finger moved to her, in emphasis. “I am a big man. I'm a strong man. I've killed and subdued more than one man with my bare hands, but a personal cost.” He explained to her, standing and jerking up his shirt, showing her a couple of scars on his sides and chest, some were round and puckered, gunshot wounds, others were stripes, like stab wounds.

“If that prick decides to come into this house, to try and put his hands on you. That,” He pointed down to the gun case. “is going to be the first thing he wants to meet, because if he has to get close enough to me, that I need to put my hands on him, then they will be that last thing he will ever feel.” He told her, chest heaving as he got worked up over the situation.

Lily gulped at him, biting her lip, a flash of fear in her eyes at his passionate words, seeing a vein of rage that Jak had also been capable of.

“I just want to protect you.” He said softly, taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself down; seeing he had scared her.

“I know you do, Austin.” She whimpered back, gulping, eyes shiny. “I know you do.”

Sy moaned, something cold pressing into his neck. “Hm, Lily.” He chuckled, scrunching his head and shoulders together, grinning as the cold and wet touched his bare chest, making him grunt and wiggle away. “Why are you so col-” He started to laugh, opening his eyes, only to meet the soulful and tawny colored eyes of Aika.

“Aika, what are ya doin' here?” He frowned, and sat up, finding it was just him and the German Shepherd in the bed, Lily nowhere in sight. “Lily?” He called out, turning his head towards the master bathroom, but it was empty.

Panic filled Sy as he yanked the blankets back and pounded down the stairs into the living room, then the den. Sy squeezed his eyes shut, taking deep breaths and clenching his hands in and out of fists, trying to keep himself cool and calm, before going into the kitchen, hearing the screen of the back door knocking against the door frame, and found the main back door was ajar.

“What is she doing?” He whispered to himself, biting his lip and looking back, considering the option of going back upstairs and getting the gun, but something in his gut told him he wouldn't need it.

Opening the door, Sy stepped out onto the back porch, a shiver wracking his body as a strong gust of rainy wind rushed by him. He narrowed his eyes, scanning the drenched backyard, the tall, unruly and uncut grass bent from the pelting of the rain and gusts of wind, he caught a quick movement to his left and turned in that direction, stepping off the porch and followed after it, towards the barn, just catching the billowing fabric of Lily's white nightie, vanishing inside.

“Lily, what are you doing in here?” He called out, pushing open the barn door a bit more. “Lily?” He called again, frowning as he crossed the barn and found her huddled in one of the old horse stalls. “What are you doing in here, Angel?” He cooed at her, shaking his head, droplets of rain running down both of their faces, and watched her melt into the corner.

Lily panted, her back pressed against the warped and worn wall behind her, arms pressed to her chest, her nightie so soaked, it was almost see through. Sy bit his lip and gulped, slowly crouching down. He knew what was going on, he had seen and suffered things like this a million times over the last ten plus years. She was having a PTSD episode, running away from the terror that was inside her head, trying to hide and find somewhere safe from it. Everything over the last several months with Jak stalking and harassing her was really starting to affect her, finally breaking her it seemed.

“I'm not going to hurt you, love.” He said softly, keeping his voice soft and low. “Come here.” He gulped, opening his arms to her and biting his lip with apprehension. “It's all right. You know, you can trust me, Sugar.” He whispered, nodding his head as she slowly unfolded herself and crawled over to him.

“Hey, Angel.” Sy cooed, sighing softly, and closed his arms around her, pressing his lips to the top of wet her head. “Ssshh.” He hushed her, rubbing her back and cupping the back of her head, feeling her tears add to the raindrops on his chest.

“I c-can-can't ta-take it an-anymore.” She sobbed, trembling in his arms, overcome with emotions and cold.

“We'll get through this, Angel.” He whispered to her, cupping her chilled cheeks in his hands and tilted her head back to look up at him. “We will get through this. You and I will get through this together. Everything will work out.”

Lily shook her head, her pale lips trembling. “N-no, it wo-won't. He-he always g-gets what h-he wants. All-always.” She mewled, whining. “I don't kn-know why I-I thought I c-could ge-get away.”

Sy's expression was hard for a moment, before he brought their faces together and kissed her, deeply. Lily stiffened against him, taken off guard by his kiss, but she didn't pull away or push him away. Gulping, she shyly returned his kiss, resting her hands on him, feeling the skin of his sides jump and react to her icy touch.

“I've wanted to kiss you.” Sy said, pulling back. “For such a long time.” He admitted, looking into her eyes. “Since that day on the porch, when you woke me up.”

“Since, you gave me your hoodie at the fair.” She whispered back, licking her lips, the warmth of Sy's still lingering on them.

Sy leaned forward, kissing her gently and brushing his fingers through her dripping hair, Lily pushing forward to deepen it for a moment, letting out a breathy whimper. Sy smirked, then looked down at the floor between them, it was still strewn with decades old hay and dirt. He held up a finger and stood, bumping around in the dark barn before a scratching sound sounded among the patter of rain on the metal barn roof. A moment later, a teeny glow filled the space and Sy approached where Lily was still kneeling, holding an old, beat up, oil lantern he knew was in the barn from his many searches of the space, hanging it up on a bent and rusty nail on the stall wall, then disappeared for another moment.

“Stand up.” He said, motioning her out of the stall, holding something in his arms.

Lily frowned at him, but stepping out of the stall and out of his way, catching a glimpse of what it was, it was one of the drop clothes he bought for when he painted the house, keeping the paint off the new porch. Sy unfolded the drop cloth over the dirty hay and stall floor, making sure it was comfortable, then turned back to her.

“How gentlemanly.” Lily complimented him.

“I am a Southern boy.” Sy chuckled, letting his Southern drawl deepen, and wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her against him. “Who's in love with Southern Lady.”

Lily blushed as Sy kissed her again, hugging her against him and up off her feet, turning around and slowly dropped to his knees, gently laying her back on the situated drop cloth. Lily wrapped her arms around Sy's neck, moaning softly against his lips, feeling the fabric of her nightie rub against her cold hardened nipples as Sy moved to kiss down to her neck, sinking his teeth into her delicate skin and let out a loud moan, pushing up against him.

“Austin!” She cried out, pressing her cheek to his ear as he continued to bite and suck on her neck, his beard tickling and rubbing against the skin underneath her jaw, leaving it red and sensitive.

Sy chuckled, loving the sound of her calling out his name with the metal patter of rain, his hand gliding over the soaked material of her nightie, bunching and hiking it up out of his way, pressing his palm against her side, rubbing his big hands all over her exposed body, grunting and growling into her neck, like a wild grizzly bear, finally getting his claws on his prized catch. His big mitts were on her plump breasts almost instantly, squeezing and kneading them, rubbing the rough pads of his thumbs over the sensitive nubs of her nipples, making her moan and whimper, fidgeting beneath him and rubbing her legs together, adding to the growing slickness between them.

“You sound so sweet.” Sy moaned back, pulling away from her neck, a set of dark teeth marks left behind, dipping his head for a moment to swirl his tongue around one of her nipples.

“Sy.” She whined, gulping down a moan. “Sy, please.”

“Oh.” He smiled, impishly. “You like that?” He asked, flicking her erect nipple with the tip of his tongue and watched her partially melt. “Your sweet, sensitive, little buds.” He cooed, then closed his lips around one of them, suckling gently, rubbing and rolling his tongue against it.

“Ah, shit!” Lily gasped, gripping his shoulders, eyes rolling and fluttering back into her head, heels digging into the fabric of the drop cloth. “God damn it, Austin.” She snapped, pressing her palms to the back of his head, holding his mouth to her breasts, her moans and whimpers filled the barn, pushing against him, egging and begging him to keep going, her breathing growing rugged and labored, moans becoming more urgent and reckless.

“Ah, fuck fuck fuck.” She cried out. “Suck them harder.” She coaxed and demanded. “Oh shit! Please, Austin!!” She gasped suddenly, body going rigid with a soft tremor.

Sy pulled away from her and dripped a hand between her trembling thighs, finding an extremely wet patch there. “So, you come, when you get your pretty breasts sucked.” He grinned, fully turned on and impressed, licking her juices off his fingers and palm.

“I've also never heard you say such naughty words.” He added, teasingly.

Lily chuckled, slowly recovering and smiling shyly up at him.

“Oh, it's too late to get shy now, Angel.” Sy laughed, leaning down and kissed the corner of her mouth. “Your secret is out.” He continued to tease her, playfully bouncing her boobs in his palms.

“And, I'm not letting you off.”

“I'm going to regret this, I can just feel it now.” Lily huffed, shaking her head, but her smile gave away her true feelings.

“Yes, you are.”

Sy chuckled, his hand dipping back between her legs, rubbing her still dripping folds with his calloused fingers, melting her into a puddle of weak and vulnerable whimpers. “You're so sensitive and sound so sweet.” He cooed at her, licking his lips and watching her face. “So, so sweet.” He panted, mouth slightly ajar, slipping his free hand into his damp boxers, curling his fingers around his thick and rock hard shaft, giving it a few shallow strokes.

Lily's eyes drifted down the length of her sweaty body, watching Sy work his cock inside his underwear and felt herself shiver in want and anticipation of it. She licked her lips and looked up at him, their eyes in a silent communication of what they both wanted. Sy shifted, yanking off his boxers to kneel between Lily's legs, wrapping them around his waist, her hips and bottom resting atop his thighs, with the small of her back lifted off the drop cloth beneath her.

“You're sure?” Sy panted, gulping thickly and already breaking out into a sweat, staring at her with wide eyes and blown out pupils.

“Yes.” Lily sighed, nodding her head vigorously at him. “God, yes.” She moaned, squeezing her legs around his waist.

Sy smirked, pressed a hand to her hip, pushing it up her side to palm one of her breasts, squeezing and rubbing it, while taking the base of his cock in his other hand, pumping it a few times, rubbing the fat and cut tip against her still wet pussy, slowly slipping between her folds, brushing her entrance and pushing inside. Lily let out a moaning sigh through her nose, feeling his wide girth stretch her open far more than she had ever been before. Her toes curled and squeezed his hips between her calves and thighs, back arching and hips shifting against the nearly uncomfortable burn of his length being buried ever deeper inside her core. Sy tilted his head at her, bracing a hand on the drop cloth, beside her head, and leaned over her, causing Lily to let out a raspy gasp as his cock changed angles inside of her, and kissed her, slow and passionately, still pushing his hips into her.

“You are so beautiful.” He rasped against her lips, nibbling on her pouty bottom lip.

“Austin.” She whimpered back, breathy, hooking her arms under his arms and pressing her palms flat against tense and sweaty back, nails digging into his cool skin. “Austin.” She chanted, softly, rubbing her nose against his.

“Lily.” Sy moaned back, finally flush inside of her, and rocked into her, taking his time and enjoying her heavenly warmth wrapped around his cock, like a toasty sleeve. “I love you, Lily.” He whispered into her ear, kissing her jaw and cheek.

Lily blushed and let out an airy chuckle, hiding her face in his neck and broad shoulder, hugging her arms and legs tighter around his body, clinging onto him for dear life and squeezed her eyes shut, taking in the sound of Sy's heavy breathing and loud moans and groans, grunting, and sighing out her name, the still steady pitter-patter of the fat raindrops on the old, rusted tin roof and sun-kissed wood walls, all mixed with her own sounds of pleasure.

“Sy?” Lily whispered, after their shared climax, still feeling the euphoric and relaxing pleasure it gave both of them, as she laid on the drop cloth, half tucked underneath Sy's body for warmth in the drafty barn.

“Hm?” He hummed back, nosing her hair and took a deep breath.

Lily smiled, feeling the vibration in his chest, nuzzling back into him. “I love you too, Austin.” She whispered, turned her head to look back at him.

Sy lifted his head and looked down at her, a smile slowly pulling across his lips, an excited and giddy feeling in the pit of his stomach, reaching out to gently brush her hair out of her face, picking out a few bits of straw that happened to get stuck in it from earlier; before oh-so-tenderly kissing her.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me, Angel.” He murmured against her cheek.

“I'm guessing as happy as it makes me, Bear.” She chuckled back, kissing the tip of his nose.

Lily softly stirred just before dawn, cradled in Sy's arms as he carried her out of the barn, the rain finally letting up, and into the house. He carried her upstairs to her room and gently laid her down on her bed, letting him help her out of her still damp nightie and tossed it through the open door of her master bathroom, before crawling into bed with her.

Both of them were out cold before the blankets settled around them, unaware of the audience they had a good deal of the night.

[rottingsparrow]

Part 4! Of rereading Lore Olympus. Ep 31-40

Gotta be real I keep forgetting to post these even tho I'm reading them but it's fine. Obviously I won't finish before the end of the 2 week break (this Saturday) but after this I may start reviewing episodes as they come out, who knows. Last part:

Ep 31

Theres so many other reasons you shouldnt work together but ok

Also shes literally so smart right like thats canon

Artemis is cool hera,,,sometimes

Which two sons i wish i knew the lo family tree as opposed to the real one yknow

How do heras powers work she felt her pain but doesnt know who??

I would kill for a comprehensive list of family tree and powers, dont even have to spoil powers just please i get so confused

Ep 32

Train ur fuckin dogs hades i think ive said that before

He changed skin color again but like not just light vs dark thats a whole diff shade of blue

Hehe threaten low class workers so cute and quirky hades

Why is uh psyche/whatever her nymph name is wearing more traditional clothes while not in the mortal realm

Love the dog

Hades has a point, even tho it makes no sense for him to have said that

Ok also point out in the like future episode he wants persephone to call him Aidoneus but doesnt like when others do it why

Thats my same thing with him calling her Kore like i know in the future its like explained or whatever but idk

Aphrodite has a point it was a favor in a way

A dumb way but yknow

I remember everyone losing it over the “im only interested in the dead ones” panel but looking at it its so lame LMAO changed his entire face shape for a panel

Ep 33

HECATE HECATE WOOOO

Im but a simple man

Hades texts like an old man i know he is one but

Also i am dying to know how his business works including as the god of the underworld like. Give me something

Then again, maybe i am a lil dumb when it comes to this

I always thought he was giving the little elevator friend a sugarcube lmao

I like how minthes ears react to her emotions

Stop fighting at work omg this would be the worst place to work at

“Hey can u do ur job”

Ep 34

Why this subplot ugh

The crown floats yet is sideways after she hits him

Also haha hitting

Also their relationship does confuse me just a tad bit yknow

All the clues were there hades you dumbass

“Cancel all my meetings” DO YOUR JOB

“This doesnt affect you in the same way” cause hes a man or a king or both but also kings seemed to get treated the same by their subjects until they are dicks and excute their power

From what ive seen

Then again we havent seen poseidon do that but that brings me to the point of I wanna see poseidon realm

thats . so creepy hades ew

“Smth must be done about this” like fair legal action right?....right?

Who reads newspapers these days anyways wait a second

Ep 35

See the laptop having news makes more sense like sure we make newspapers but ppl dont use em as often

“Biochemistry Theory” fun fact I switched majors to specifically avoid taking chemistry

What are they typing he just started speaking

What type of nymph is thetis bc i know minthe is a river nymph but thetis has fancy ears

They are so mean to each other lmao

The financial situation and the fact that they both are like sleeping with the kings confuse me why do both of them do it.

Like retrospectively i understand it but when i first read it i was like “are nymphs supposed to be like hookers??” so i was lost for a bit

“Hades micromanages computer usage” oh what a shit boss

Also the meal ticket she has a job sure hades gave it to her but

Idk maybe im slow

What an awful way to do a heart shape i just tried it wtf

“Crying is for wives” damn

Yes body issues that dont get brought up again right? Like she all of a sudden gets bigger boobs and i dont think hades pays ppl enough for cosmetic surgery

You guys know this is a work setting

Has rachel ever had a job bc this feels like a comical trope seen on tv the workplace drama yknow

LMAO IN THE LAST PANEL RACHEL FORGOT TO GIVE HER NYMPH EARS

Like fully normal ears i know its a mistake but its funny

Ep 36

“Not my circus not my monkeys” queen

Hades is it not your circus how dont involve hecate in this

“Stop starin at me with them big ol eyes”

Oof that does not look good on you, i mean why didnt you give her the coat

“I thought you didnt get jealous” ok she may have said that but literally everything about her contradicts that

And i love this part bc he doesnt call her crazy and they talk, i mean he hides some of the truth which like fuck him, and then they try to talk about the party and

Ugh i know minthe is supposed to be an antagonist but rachel does this weird thing where she tries to flesh her out, then realizes it would be an easy set up for a redemption arc and screws her over again

I know the ppl in the mortal realm are generally frightened of hades but why are ppl in olympus

“I wouldnt expect anything less from a goddess” so we are going to bring in the racism/speciesism that occurs in this story right

Its the middle of the day isnt he supposed to be in the mortal realm moving the sun or some shit

Ep 37

“Last night” Rachel its ok to space things out sweetie

Ok ok so one thing i hate about her characterization of apollo is he goes from being delusional to knowing what he did was at least slightly wrong and i hate both are fine stories but pick one he either is so infatuated with persephone that he thinks that they had a great time or he wants her for her power

And! A transition from one to the other would be fine, but she goes back in forth in his characterization

Little red vines look cool

Hehe cerberus

How did he escape tho

I love that dog

Ep 38

Oh its the greenhouse again

But this time it represents the evil feeling?

Idk but i like eye symbolism im lame lol

Why was she sleeping in the chair

When did she get those clothes i dunno if eros would buy her business casual

Artemis really sees all the signs and then goes “meh”

Like points out the possible crush on persephone just connect the dots they are so close

Why is there not more than one door

Why is no one getting off

How does rachel think train stops work

Ep 39

Also not thatanos with an undercut lmao

Ope its thanatos i mixed it up

Also minthe you just actively arent doing a good job like lmao how are you not getting fired

Hades smoking a cigar is so old and gross tbh

What an awful boss

That man has a point dont stand infront of the door

She gave her a little flower nice

Minthe i know ur being spiteful, weird bc hades explained shes just the daughter of a friend( i know its a lie but still) but just do your job

“It says restricted access but that lady says it was fine” i would just wait until someone came out theres no reason to go inside

Ep 40

Why would they not have a lock on this place actually

Why wouldnt she just leave the way she came

When did hades put on his glasses

How is it hades fault what

So many questions yknow for such a short episode

Also does this place not have security cameras in places that are tartarus

[dashielldeveron]

and i’ve gotta crow | takami keigo

hawks x pro-hero! reader. quirk unspecified.

summary: “You’re suffering from amnesia,” says Hawks to you, in your hospital bed.

No, you are not.

“We’re engaged to be married.”

No, you are not.

After an accident that was that bastard Hawks’s fault, you decide to play along with your diagnosis of amnesia, among other things, because how far can you make your former bully bend over backwards for you?

fluff/trickery??? completely avoidable angst, bc reader is a little shit. hawks is a scumbag bully at first. reader is honestly kind of violent. dealing with acne in a scene.

When the first things you saw after groggily blinking your eyes open were multiple IVs in the back of your hand, you flipped over and snuggled farther into your hospital bed to deal with it later, but against your will you were forced to lie flat on your back to stare into the hospital fluorescents.

When the nurse fiddling with your IVs came into focus, he said, “You need to lie on your back. You have deep gashes on your lower abdomen, and tossing about too much could open the stitches.”

That sounded like bullshit, but you were too out of it to care. “Yeah, okay,” you said through a croak, “Oh, fuck.” You wrestled a hand to your throat, massaging it. “Am I waking up from a coma? Don’t let anyone see me until I’ve done my eyebrows.”

The nurse laughed through his nose. “No, don’t worry. You’ve barely been—” He cut himself off and frowned. “The news should probably be broken to you when you have emotional support. I’ll be back soon.”

He left.

Emotional support? Wouldn’t that fucking gash on your stomach be—ooh, ouch, don’t move.

Where’s your phone? Where’s your goddamn phone; where’s any of your personal belongings? If they got crushed, you’re killing Hawks on sight.

Hawks, oh, my God. Where is he? He’s dead. If he still has the audacity to bully you professionally—fuck.

He’d cornered you on patrol earlier—whenever that was—and cut into you in that casually, negging-type way that wasn’t enough to report but enough to make you stay up late and freak out about being good enough. It hurt your chest whenever you thought about it.

But this was the first time he’d gotten seriously physical.

He’d alit on the top of the warehouse next to you, landing what would have been haphazardly for anyone else (the arch of his feet against the edge, his toes barely touching roof) and had crouched next to you, his scarlet wings completely blowing your cover as they stretched and shuddered.

“What’s a little girl like you doing in this part of town?” Hawks had propped his chin on both his fists. “Thought shoplifters were more your calibre.”

“Hawks, this is actually really important to me, so please, please leave,” you’d said, keeping your eyes on the group you could barely make out through the skylight. They’d already been partially concealed by crates, so they were hard to see.

“Someone else give you a tip for their location?” He’d tapped your opposite shoulder with the end of his wing, but you hadn’t even flinched.

“Bruh, you know I’ve been on this for weeks,” you’d said, shifting away from him, “I even shared intel at your last briefing.”

“Is that what you were talking about?” Hawks had scratched his chin. “I zoned out. Usually the little cases female heroes present aren’t in my circle, and I like to unwind when brain power isn’t needed.”

You’d planned to rip his wings out feather by feather while you’d gritted your teeth. “You can’t talk to me like that, Hawks.”

He’d laughed, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. “C’mon, babygirl, have a slice of chill, won’t you? I thought you were one of the cool girls. Relax. I don’t mean anything by it.”

“Leave me alone, Hawks. You’re not gonna bully me into joining your agency. You’re not gonna bully me into quitting being a hero,” you’d said, inwardly screaming, “I’d tell you to go talk to someone who’d fall for your shit, but then, she’d have to suffer, too. So, fuck off into a sewer, jackass.”

“Oof,” Hawks had said, placing a hand over his heart and shaking his head, “You don’t have to be such a bitch, sweetheart. I’m only looking for my better half. Didn’t think it could be you, but I’d thought I’d give you a chance to prove me wrong. Don’t take yourself too seriously; just be along for the ride like the rest of us.”

“Huh,” you had said, and you’d stood and strode to the edge of the warehouse to your harness and rope, and you rappelled down the side of it as stealthily as you came up.

“I’ve been watching you all these years, sweetness, and I know you by now; I know how you really feel,” Hawks had said a bit too loudly while he flew downwards at your speed (braggart). “Strip away all of your busy work, your so-called hero trappings, and we’d mesh together just fine. We may be rough around the edges, but we clean up really nicely, don’t we?”

You’d unclipped your carabiner and stepped out of your harness, stashing it in your pack. “Fuck off.”

You’d moved towards the back entrance, but Hawks had slammed a hand against the concrete wall in front of you. You’d ducked under it and carried on, and he’d grabbed the back of your shirt.

“C’mon, if we didn’t know each other, and our eyes met from across the room at some hero gala, you’d be all over me, wouldn’t you?”

You had swiped his hand away. “I’d be putting a lid on my drink.”

His arms behind his back, Hawks had followed you through the door and behind the exposed pipes and closer to your targets. “Saw you coming onto Todoroki at the last one. You looked fine in his colours, but you would’ve looked better in mine.”

Don’t grace him with an answer; don’t grace him with an ans— “I wasn’t coming onto Shoto,” you’d said, pulling yourself up a couple of pipes for a better view—and you’d hit him when he flapped his wings to hover the few feet you’d ascended, because the noise might alert them.

“Yeah, you just simp for him, right? Then you didn’t step outside your comfortable ice queen act?” Hawks had gripped onto a pipe just underneath your ass. “You’re too much of a natural tease for that.”

How can you report him when he’s the head of his own agency? You guess the commission might listen, but what can they do besides slap his wrist? There’s really no one who can stop him, is there?

You hadn’t replied but instead crawled onto the iron catwalk. If you could position yourself about three-quarters of the way across, you’d be able to effectively activate your quirk and get this over with—wait, why would you think like that? You’d been waiting for this for ages.

A hand spreading across the small of your back had reminded you.

You’d flipped over with fire in your eyes and kicked him away as quietly as you could, but all he’d done was sit back on his knees to grin down at you, army-crawling your way through a dirty warehouse.

Would he take credit for your work again?

You’d shaken yourself. Eat my entire ass, Hawks. And with that, you’d continued inching towards your targets. When you’d gotten into position to watch them, Hawks had merely watched you.

You had scowled. “I’m gonna tear you a—”

“You had a hard childhood, didn’t you?”

A chill had unfurled up your spine, simple as that. Hawks now not only had the annoying air of an arrogant pick-up artist but also gave you an intense sense of danger. You’d moved away from him, regrettably away from your target, but Hawks had followed you, getting closer until his body heat had seeped into yours, a self-satisfied smirk plastered across his dumb face.

“I could take suuuuch good care of you, little girl,” he’d said under his breath, “if only you’d let me. No one else is crazy enough to call me out or want more than the bare minimum.” His wings had folded in on his back, making themselves as small as possible to get closer to you. “If you give in, tell me yes, say please, you wouldn’t have to let any worries cross your pretty little mind. All you have to do is let me in.”

“Yikes,” you had said, sucking in through your teeth, “God, you’re a creep.”

Hawks had slammed you down onto the catwalk, iron reverberating through the warehouse as it struck your head, and your targets had looked up by the time the catwalk hinges had loosened and had come crashing down in the midst of their meeting.

You’re really not supposed to shoot guns inside. Don’t they know that’ll ruin their ears? No matter, really. You had fought them anyway, amidst crates splintering open from whatever they were shooting at you—fuck, that was a big hole. What’s oozing out of that? Gross, don’t step in it.

One with a normal revolver—his arm had given a woody crack when you’d bent it backwards—God, that was nice. Good sounds. If you could sample them into a rap track, you would.

You’d been planning a collab with a popular rapper while you’d hurled yourself at another villain, sawdust flying—just to keep your mind busy, really, but fucking—fucking Hawks had bested whoever he’d half-assed to the ground and had shouted your way.

“C’mere, you little shit—”

He’d scooped you up while you’d been taking care of it by yourself, and he had pinned you down behind a stack of crates that reached the remains of the catwalk, straddling you but keeping most of his weight off, his wings outstretched yet still hidden from the cloud of sawdust rising with deep gurgling on the far side.

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” he’d said over the chaos, spit flying, “You can’t handle this; you’re gonna get fucking killed. I can’t babysit you all the time.”

“Get fucked; I’m the number fourteen hero,” you’d said, deadly still, but twitching in fury, “I can handle anyth—”

“Aww, fourteen. And one day babygirl might reach the single digits.” Hawks had sneered in your face. “If she manages to fuck her way through them.”

Your jaw had dropped, and you pretended to cough on sawdust and kicked him off in the confusion. Hawks had grabbed a hold of your calf, grappling for your thigh, while you’d scrambled to climb over crates to the gurgling mess on the other side; you could handle it, and you would.

You’d slapped his hands away, wrestled out of his grasp again and again, and you’d launched yourself into the dust—

Yeah.

While the fluorescent lights flickered overhead, you picked at a hangnail. You hadn’t braced yourself for the explosion, so, you guessed you deserved whatever was wrong with you now. Big-ass gashes on your stomach. Probably broken ribs. Something felt off in your left leg, besides—oh, ho, what had the doctors thought when they’d seen Hawks’s scratches?

What an idiot.

When the door creaked open, the nurse returned with a mug of water for you, but—what? Who’s that bitch following him?

You blinked, twice. With his hands in his pockets and his nasty little wings tucked in behind him, Hawks meandered to your bedside, his gaze on your throat as you swallowed down water.

God, you’re too tired to deal with him. Let’s get this over with.

The nurse glanced over his clipboard. “I’ve already told your partner this, but I thought you would want him here.”

Maybe if you ignore Hawks, he’ll leave.

“You were very brave today,” said the nurse, “Your work as a hero is greatly appreciated. You’re on temporary leave to heal, though. Like I said, you’ve got three, major gashes on your stomach, and your leg’s broken—the fibula split, if you want to know. You’ll be on crutches for a while. You have four broken ribs, and—” The nurse bit his lip and softened his voice. “You hit your head pretty hard. Nothing’s broken, but you should have amnesia, with the trauma you’ve endured.”

Should have? They don’t know? You sure as hell don’t fucking have amnesia. It barely happens in real life, and it definitely hasn’t happened to you. You remembered every fucking infuriating thing Hawks did to ruin your mission, and if he doesn’t square up—

“I’m so sorry, baby,” said Hawks, grabbing your hand. He stroked the back of it with his thumb, and then he took his glove off to hold you skin-to-skin. “You remember who I am?”

You just stared at him.

“Your fiancé’s been a real presence in the waiting room,” said the nurse, “He hardly stopped pacing the entire time you were in surgery. He wouldn’t even talk to fans.”

Oh, my God.

Holy fucking shit.

“Oops, sorry,” said the nurse, covering his mouth, “I know you were keeping it a secret. Don’t blame him, please; he only told me to be able to see you immediately.”

Shutting your eyes, you took a deep, deep breath. You have been handed a golden opportunity on a fucking Hawks-shaped platter, holy fuck, and by God are you going to take advantage of it. Imagine how much you can fucking humiliate him, how far you can take it. How much you can make him pay for how he treated you, and now, if he says he’s your fiancé, then he’s gonna fucking worship you. You’re going to mould him into your little bitch, and he’s going to thank you for it. And you’ll get endless dirt on him just by seeing his place.

Don’t fuck this up.

Exhaling, you opened your eyes, blinking a bit. You curled your lips into your mouth, biting the lower one. “I remember you’re Hawks,” you said in a nervous voice, “and I remember, uh.”

“Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart.” Hawks squeezed your hand, his tone kind. “It’ll come back in time.”

You clutched Hawks’s hand while the nurse rattled off instructions and gave you your crutches, and Hawks squeezed your hand back, softly smiling at you.

When the nurse left, you turned to Hawks and said, “I’m so, so sorry, but I—I feel like there’s something big missing that I can’t remember.” You scratched your forehead with your free hand, dragging the IVs with you.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Hawks tilted his head, still gazing decidedly down at you.

“Oh, God,” you said, “Oh, fuck. I don’t know. Um.” Take it back. Take it way back. That way he’ll dig himself into a deeper hole. The more lies he has to create, the funnier it’ll be. “Let’s see, I, hm.” You already weren’t speaking like yourself, but you looked upward as you faked combing through memories. “I don’t know how things work chronologically, but the most recent memory I have of you is—it’s after a press conference, and I’ve never been in the building before,” you said slowly, “And I can’t find the bathroom, but some press keeps following me, and I—I faceplant in between your shoulder blades, right between your wings. You—” You lowered your voice, shrinking a little in the hospital bed, “You got rid of them so easily, with just a gesture, and you put your arm around me. You were—” You shook your head, staring at both of your hands. “—so warm.”

Was that too thick? That was too thick, wasn’t it?

His free hand shot to his mouth, and he bit his knuckle. “But sweetheart, that’s,” said Hawks, his eyes watering, “That’s only around the third time we met.”

You know.

“Shit,” you said, widening your eyes, “How long ago was that?”

“Three years.” Hawks squeezed your hand and kept the pressure longer than was necessary. “Three fucking years. You don’t remember anything past that?”

You pretended to be scared to look at him. “I’m sorry; I’m so sorry—”

“No, no, you don’t have to be,” said Hawks, and he leant towards you to lift your chin, rubbing his thumb against it, “It’s not your fault.”

You had to hand it to him: Hawks was a good actor.

But so were you.

***

Hawks disappeared for a while after that, but he manifested the day you were loosed from the hospital, more than giddy to carry all of your shit all the way to your flat. He was probably getting some sick pleasure from watching you hobble on your crutches.

“I can help you, if you lean on me,” said Hawks, giving you an easy grin, “I don’t want you to be in any more pain than you have to.”

“This is something I should do myself,” you said in what was hopefully a tough-it-out voice, “I’d like to be able to walk without depending on anyone.”

“I honestly think you ought to be in a wheelchair.” His wings bristled. “But what do I know? I could fly us to your place, if you like.”

“I don’t like. I’ve gotta concentrate on limping. Stop talking, Hawks.”

You got to your flat, and Hawks had guessed which key opened the door on the first try. Drat! He was already doing a good job of acting like he’d been here before, like he’s not surprised that the number fourteen hero lives in a pretty shitty apartment (you started living here as a student and got too damn comfortable for your own good—plus, you didn’t want your cat to endure the trauma of moving).

Hawks plopped your keys in the bowl by the door with a clatter, and he shut the front door behind you, flipping one of the locks.

He set your stuff neatly on the kitchen table—your purse, your tactical pack, your ropes—and lay your dry-cleaned hero suit over the back of a kitchen chair, and his hands were on you the next moment to guide you to your tacky, sunflower couch. Removing one crutch, he put your arm over his shoulder instead, one hand planted on your lower back above your bandages, and he eased you down onto the cushions.

Hawks then stepped over your legs to sit on your opposite side, and he brought your legs to rest in his lap, his hand gripping your non-casted leg. “Gotta keep it elevated, chickadee.”

You let yourself giggle. Time to get this shitshow started. “Thank you so much for helping me, Hawks; I know I’ve been a real hassle these past few days, and you shouldn’t have to deal with that sort of stress. You’re already under so much. I don’t understand how the commission would let you date anyone, let alone propose.”

“Oh, I know,” said Hawks, spreading himself out on the couch. He shifted himself to face you in addition to accommodate his wings—he was now positioned so that they’d drape over the arm of the couch instead of being squished against the back cushions. That bitch, he probably wasn’t used to couches that weren’t custom made to his special body requirements. Spoiled fuck.

“The commission was really pissed when they found out. Do you remember how, sweetness? Right, I’ll tell you,” said Hawks, running an ungloved hand through his hair before shaking it loose. “You remember up to the press conference with the faceplant. Short version is that you hated me for a good year before something clicked. You started acting awkward whenever I was around, avoiding me, and stuff. Sometimes getting red. I thought it was cute.”

You ducked your head. Flustered. He probably likes easily flustered women.

Wait. That’s not who you are. And he’d like you for who you are, if you’re engaged.

But at the same time, if you’re (gag) in love with him, wouldn’t you be flustered by some of the things he says?

Easy, baby. Take it as it comes. Pick your battles. Go with your gut.

And gut says make Hawks eat shit.

“You think I’m cute?”

“I know you’re cute.”

You’re going to stuff his own feathers down his throat.

“We got together at that dinner Endeavor’s agency sponsored. Do you remember that at all? That place with the purple lights. You’d gotten nervous from the crowd and had gone to take some of your anxiety meds. I caught you in the hall back from the bathroom and talked you down before going back out there.” He grinned sheepishly. “I’d like to say I’m the one who kissed you, but you took initiative before I had the guts.”

Funny. Hilarious, in fact. That was the night Hawks had solidified himself as the Biggest Dick in the World, because yeah, he’d caught you in the purple-lit hallway, but he’d caught you on the way to take your meds, not on the way back. You were talking yourself down from a panic attack and couldn’t argue him away, so he’d followed you into the bathroom, running his mouth and acting like it was an accident when the tip of his wing had knocked your two capsules down the sink.

He’d told you that if you’re a big girl, you’d be able to handle the rest of the night. Or you could leave at any time with him, and he’d make excuses that everyone would have to accept.

Honestly, you’d love to let his fake memory be true, because then, you’d be able to wear purple again without feeling queasy.

Cocking your head, you smiled. “That doesn’t sound like something I would do.”

Hawks let out a light laugh, craning his neck to rest his head on the back of the sofa. “That’s what you said that night, too. About how it felt out of character.”

“Was I good?”

Lifting his head, he raised an eyebrow at you: probably the first genuine emotion he’s shown you the whole time he’s been here. “Hm?”

“When I kissed you. Was it good,” you asked flatly.

“Oh,” Hawks said, his wings puffing out just barely, “Oh, sweetheart, you were amazing. Groundbreaking. Show-stopping.” His tongue flicked over his lower lip, and he shifted underneath your legs, leaning slightly towards you but holding eye contact before carrying on.

You shook your head. “I don’t have the energy to give you the makeout session you deserve,” you said, envisioning drowning him in the bathtub, “I’m exhausted. Forgive me.”

“Always,” said Hawks, “Want me to keep going?”

“You can hardly eat me out when we haven’t kissed yet.”

“I meant,” said Hawks, pausing to visibly swallow (was it real?), “about our relationship, but if you wanna eat—”

“Nah, keep going. So, I started the relationship? I must be crazy. Neither of us have fucking time to sleep, let alone be in a relationship.”

Hawks never shut up about how he was taking time out of his endlessly packed days to spend time with you, how time was precious to him, and if he’s spending time with you, why, then, you’d better pay up, bitch (always accompanied with his hands on his belt, subtly pointing his thumbs towards his cock).

Hawks shrugged with his wings instead of his shoulders. Interesting. Has he ever done that before? “The commission said that, but after I insisted we’d make time, they relented. Eventually,” said Hawks, jerking his head to the side, “Our quirks don’t exactly fit well, so we haven’t worked with each other professionally too often, and, of course, we’ve had to hide our relationship so that we can’t be a public weak spot to each other. Plus, we’re more marketable as eligible, young heroes.”

“Fuck the market,” you said, slumping into the pillows.

“There’s my girl,” said Hawks, grinning with his tongue caught between his teeth, “There’s her spark. I know, baby. I feel the same way, but being made into libidinous body pillows pays the bills, y’know?”

Nodding, you brought one of the couch pillows around for you to hug, and you smushed your chin into it. “Hawks,” you said, so quietly you almost couldn’t be heard over the A/C kicking on, “How long have we been engaged?”

“Four months,” he said, his grin unconsciously fading until he was essentially baring his teeth, “Since the twentieth.”

Taking a moment, you said, “I can’t remember anything at all.”

“That’s okay. It’ll come back.”

“No, I can’t—” You slid your hands through your hair, pulling at it, and you heaved a sigh. “Goddammit, Hawks. I wish I could—fuck. I’m missing something huge. I know I am.” Make him nervous. Make him lie awake at night. “I’m sorry, Hawks. It’s probably something really important, and I—”

“Shh, shh, shh, shh, it’s all right,” said Hawks, and he stood to lean over you, his hands rising to cup your face, and holy shit, his hands cover so much of your skin; is that legal? He’s got hands. “Don’t worry, baby. You’ve had a big day. Turn your brain off. I’ll take care of you.”

Red flag! Big, red flag! Creep! He’s a creep!

Your gaze fell to his jacket pockets. Does he carry date rape drugs on his person?

“Hawks, I don’t wanna inconvenience you any more than I have.”

“I’m your fiancé,” said Hawks, actually looking you straight in the eyes and not breaking, “I want to take care of you.”

“Sure, in the way the mob takes care of people.”

Hawks’s mouth opened slightly, and his eyes narrowed.

Cover it up. “I’m not sorry. I don’t trust your cooking. You’ll poison my spaghetti!” You made a dumb gesture, pinching your fingers together. “Have you seen The Godfather? There’s actually a pretty legit spaghetti recipe in it; it’s not too bad, but it’s kind of watery—”

Hawks brought your hand to his mouth to kiss your knuckles and let his lips linger. “Watch it with me?”

You shook your head. “I’m too tired. I’m going to bed.”

“I’ll join you.”

“No,” you said, “My bed’s not made with your wings in mind.” Fuck off to your own little sex next, Hawks. Get out of here. “If they got hurt, it’d be my fault. Go sleep in your own bed, all right?” Go home. Get mugged on the way.

Hawks sighed, blowing his hair out of his eyes. “If you insist. But you’ve gotta reach out to me for anything you have trouble with, yeah? Memories, opening jars, orgasms, you know.”

“I’m leaving,” you said, reaching for your crutches, “Ten minutes ago.”

***

“You didn’t tell me how you proposed.”

Hawks froze mid-bite of his ramen, but after a quick beat, he slurped the rest of the noodle up. “I was hoping you’d recall that on your own, baby. Get your own feelings about it, instead of me telling you how to feel.”

If you weren’t faking amnesia, you’d fucking break his nose for that. Bastard.

“I imagine once you tell me, the feelings will rush in,” you said, clicking your chopsticks twice for emphasis, “I want to remember everything, and if I don’t, well, I want to fall in love with you again.”

Hawks’s gaze glazed over for an infinitesimal moment. Score.

“It’ll sound goofy once I describe it.” With his wings cramped against the back of the booth, Hawks scratched the back of his neck—a classic move for pretending to be embarrassed. “I’m not exactly known for being romantic.”

Yeah, he’s known for fooling around with anyone who’s glittery, like a goddamn crow. If you’re paying attention.

“Aw, but Hawks, you’ve been nothing but so effortlessly romantic to me since I’ve been convalescing,” you said, rolling up the paper wrapper of your straw and soaking it in the ring your cup left on the table.

“Right, well. I flew us out to the countryside, to this overlook halfway up a mountain. You liked going rappelling there a lot. To practise for missions.” Hawks had some of your habits down, at least. Bet he gets the location wrong, though. “We watched the sunrise. We shared a thermos of tea. I asked you once the sun had risen, but you didn’t say yes right away,” said Hawks, “You jumped off the overlook without your gear, and I caught you. You were furious about it—you didn’t want me to see you overwhelmed. But you said yes.”

Ugh. That sounded about right. That sounded pretty realistic. Hawks was a fucking stalker.

“Fuck,” you said, burying your face in your hands, “That’s cute.” You stretched the skin of your cheeks before releasing, and you returned to your ramen. “Question: did we put the ring into storage, or something? I don’t have the little indent on my ring finger from wearing a ring too long, and I haven’t found anything at home.” Make him sweat. Make him stumble. Where’s the ring, Hawks?

With a flash of his eyebrows, Hawks maneuvered his straw to his mouth using only his lips, looking quite stupid, in your opinion. “Figured you’d ask that at some point. I’m so overjoyed to see you every time that I forget to bring it up. The ring’s been sent off to a high-level, government-backed, support company. I’ve pulled in a favour from the higher-ups. I wanted to turn your ring into something a little more personal and incorporate one of my feathers into it,” said Hawks, taking a moment to slurp his drink noisily, “Depending on how well it goes, I’d be able to help you if we’re separated and know where you are. At the very least—” Hawks ducked his head to give the illusion of staring up at you with wide eyes, his blond eyelashes light against his skin. “—I’d be able to feel your heartbeat. It would bring me great comfort.”

Great, so he’d have a GPS on you at all times, knowing whether or not you went somewhere he didn’t want you to. He’d be able to tell if you went somewhere your non-amnesia self would know about. Great. Phenomenal.

“Hawks, that’s very sweet,” you said, fiddling with the remnants of your straw wrapper, now fizzled out of its snake shape, “Wouldn’t the process hurt you, though? Since you can feel it.”

“Nothing more than a twinge, sweetheart,” said Hawks, holding up his hands, “And I’d bear any amount of pain for your sake.”

You fantasised about beating his head in with the back end of a rifle.

***

When you were told Hawks was waiting for you outside of the recording booth, you told the messenger that Hawks could wait until you were finished with five more takes. You could picture Hawks’s little pout at the news, his feathers bristling despite the closed space, and resigning himself to sit in one of those clangy, metal chairs out front, having to hunch forward so that he didn’t crush his wings.

The idol group adored the ingenuity of bone-crunching as percussion in a song, and along with that and some other combat foley, you were singing the bridge with the rapper of the group (the dance captain would sing your part for live shows). It’d be a good promo for the girl group and for you, and the song, “Spine,” was going to be released as a single as soon as it was polished.

Hawks perked up the moment you stepped through the secondary door to the booth, his eyes brightening and wings spreading to take up more space. “I didn’t think I’d catch you,” said Hawks, standing to take your hands (the cold leather gloves sucked the heat out of your hands), “I’ve got to fly, soon, but I wanted to tell you personally.”

“You’re not pregnant,” you said, fighting the urge to break his goggles/visor/hat thing.

His lopsided grin widened. “Not yet, baby. There’s gonna be a heroes’ gala held at the end of the month, and I wanted to let you know that I’m doing everything in my power to make it a positive experience for you. Here, I’ve got this woman’s phone number,” he said, fishing a slip of paper out of his jacket, “She’ll help accommodate the venue for your leg.”

Stupid fucking bastard man. He probably wanted to pick out your clothes himself, infantilise you and dress you up like a goddamn doll. Deny you your personhood. “I’ll be out of the cast by then.” You slid the paper into your back pocket.

“I know,” Hawks said in a way that was a fucking lie, “I just don’t want there to be any accidents. I can’t have my babygirl any more hurt than she is.” Hawks placed his cold, gloved hand against your cheek, and you, shutting your eyes, made yourself lean into it. “But contact her. She’ll make it the safest place it can be for you, even when I have to leave your side.”

God, galas were great. Big events for villains to ruin. You licked your lips thinking about using a new move you’ve learnt to take a villain down (involving clamping your legs around the villain’s neck to choke him as he crumpled to the floor—your combat coach had banned you from the move after you made her pass out). “Are we announcing our engagement, then? If we’re going together?”

“I’d love to,” said Hawks, “but only if you want to. The ring could be ready by then, if I ask them to rush it—”

“Let’s do it.” If you plunged the ring into icy water, would he start to shiver? Ooh, your ring’s going to act as a fucking bay leaf in your soups for a while.

“Oh,” said Hawks, sighing lightly with his eyes fluttering shut. He pressed his forehead to yours and rubbed his thumb over your cheek. “You have no idea how much that means to me, sweetheart. You are so dear to me, and I want everyone to know it. The best damn thing in my life. Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, placing your hand on his face to push him away, “Don’t you have work to do, screw boy?”

***

“Did we have a date?” you asked from the edge of the bathtub.

Hawks dipped the razor in the water, washing off the hair and shaving cream. “We’ve gone on so many, darling; you’ll have to specify.”

“No, I meant for the wedding.” Let’s once again play: Can Hawks Cover His Own Ass?

Hawks dragged the razor down your freshly exfoliated, freshly-un-casted, freshly not-broken leg, starting at your knee. “Nope!”

“No explanation?”

“You wanna get married tomorrow? A six-month engagement is rather short, don’t you think?” His nose twitched. He’d said the scent of your shaving cream irritated his nose. Good.

“I don’t. Why didn’t we have a date for the wedding?” You eyed the actual and literal pile of your dead skin on the towel. Maybe you should make Hawks snort it.

“We were too busy working; you’d said you didn’t mind having a long engagement, so long as I was yours. Then, uh, you know. The accident,” Hawks said with a shrug—with his shoulders this time, because if he moved his wings while he was crouched in your bathtub, he’d soak them, and they were a bitch to dry, apparently. Suffer, you rat bastard.

“The commission isn’t involved in that decision?”

“I thought that was implied,” said Hawks, gripping your ankle to turn your calf to the side, “They don’t want it to be a huge spectacle, so even I don’t know how much of a wedding wedding they’d let us have.”

He’s too damn good at this. If he weren’t a pro-hero, he’d fit right along in a theatre troupe.

You’re going to wring his neck.

You caught him staring at the crotch of your underwear (bone-dry, you might add) while he shaved your thighs, and he spent more time rubbing lotion into your inner thighs than anywhere else. He tossed your dead skin before you could make him eat it, and he scooped you up against your protestations about your weight and capability, humming while he carried you to your bed.

The fucker tucked you in and rounded up your cat to place in your arms (your cat disagreed with him and promptly leapt off the bed).

“Let me stay with you,” said Hawks, kissing each of your fingertips. It’s an order.

Yet you shook your head.

***

“The doctors said you shouldn’t drink,” Hawks said under his breath, taking the champagne flute gently from your grasp.

“But I want to,” you said, sticking out your lower lip, “I’m wearing goddamn heels and a fucking dress. I’ve got on makeup, for Christ’s sake. I’ve done my time; let me drink.”

“Baby, you’ve got to stay safe,” he said, and he set the glass next to some 40s-level hero’s place at the long, white tablecloth. “There’s already press paying more attention to us than usual. You wanna make a fool of yourself?”

“Yes,” you said, lifting another champagne flute from a passing gala waiter, “Who gives a shit about the press.”

Hawks laughed too loudly to be natural before lowering his voice. “Baby, you are gonna be the death of me.”

“Promise?”

***

When “Spine” was released on a cool, spring morning to an excitable audience, you were lurking in alleyways by the docks, searching for a fight. When the music video dropped, you were smashing some guy’s face into a concrete wall. While more and more citizens recognised you and your talent, your work for the community, your connections, your popularity—with your rank steadily rising—you were rappelling down a port sewer to pummel a slime villain into dust.

You wiped his blood off on your pants, hands devoid of anything that could taint. You’d left the ring at home.

***

“You tricked me,” you said, scowling as Hawks pushed you forward, “This isn’t the rock climbing park.”

Once you deliberately smashed your face into the glass door and crossed your arms, Hawks held the door open for you. “Would you have dressed up so nicely for rock climbing?”

“A meta-game challenge,” you said, “to rock-climb in a long skirt.”

You glowered about the restaurant while you and Hawks stood in the lobby, his hand low on your back, suspiciously respectfully. You made no effort to hide your distaste: it was the place with the purple lights.

Over there at the absurdly long bar, Endeavor had drunk flat whisky without so much of a growl at anyone, despite it being his event. Hexagonal tables with lilac tablecloths dotted the floor—you’d hidden in one of the few booths, up against the exposed brick wall—but your hiding place had been ruined once a violet disco ball had emerged from the ceiling. Shiny, wooden floor that had reflected your post-panic attack face right back at you and let every shoe strike it with a clatter. No silence allowed.

The whole restaurant had lavender LED lights running around the walls, swathing the place in a distorted sort of purple haze, and any candles lit on the centre tables had indigo flames—you’d focused on how those might have been made in the process of coming down from your panic attack.

God. You’re going to throw up.

The hostess escorted you and Hawks to a farther back room, this one with booths separated by small, brick walls that didn’t reach the ceiling yet concealed the booths’ occupants from each other—unless you were passing directly in front of one.

Hawks made you sit in the booth first, trapping you in as he settled. He had to be on the edge, anyway, he told you, because of his wings. You’re going to rip them off and boil them in the soup.

The two of you ordered. You don’t remember what. You can only channel so much of your nerves into jostling your leg. This is not cool. This place is not cool. You need to get out.

“Hey, let me through,” you said, nudging Hawks, “Bathroom.”

Once there, you lightly slapped your cheeks a couple of times, trying to ground yourself through physical sensation. No use. Can’t they fucking use normal lights in this place?

You didn’t have your panic meds, because you’ve never needed them rock climbing. You can do it. You’re fine. You’re fine. Your tongue is too big for your mouth.

You took your time meandering back to the booth, coming to a halt at the end of the narrow hallway and ducking behind the corner.

Endeavor stood by your booth, his arms crossed over a flaming chest. You caught your breath at the sight of his orange fire, a comforting contrast to all the damn purple, but still—Endeavor. Talking to your (gag) fiancé.

Without the courage to interact with Endeavor, you listened at the corner for his departure.

“Nah, she can handle her bladder just fine. It’s her nerves,” Hawks was saying, hidden by the bricks, “She likes hiding. She doesn’t necessarily like being in the spotlight.”

“Yet she hasn’t completely withdrawn as Eraserhead has. You’ve picked a strange one to marry.”

From the angle Endeavor glared at him, Hawks must be slumping in his seat. “But that’s what so great about her. And it’s hard to process, y’know, like, she’s finally mine. You follow?”

“Regrettably,” said Endeavor, “Regardless, I offer my congratulations that your courtship finally worked out in your favour. You should have told me sooner.”

Courtship. That’s a funny way to pronounce bullying.

“Eh, I’ve gotta have some secrets, don’t I? Can’t betray my otherwise cool exterior.” Hawks laughed. “I can’t believe I’ve been allowed such happiness. The woman I’ve loved for years is gonna be waking up to me every day soon, y’know?”

Hawks has got to know you can hear him, otherwise he wouldn’t be saying those things. Endeavor must be in on Hawks’s ruse, since Endeavor is Hawks’s closest—actually, Endeavor isn’t the type to revel in romantic shit. Endeavor straight-up isn’t the type to revel. To the best of your knowledge, Endeavor doesn’t genuinely like Hawks as so much as tolerates him; when did they get so close? It must have taken a long time—

Time.

You could feel your IQ dropping as you actually considered: had you been in a legitimate coma? Had you (fuck) genuinely had amnesia?

No, no. You don’t live in Crazytown. Your eyebrows hadn’t been overgrown when you’d woken up in the hospital. You’d only been there a day.

Of course, Hawks is a vain piece of shit and does his own eyebrows, so he might have considered that yours were a piece of pride/insecurity for you and may have done them while you were—did Hawks do his own eyebrows? That spoiled fuck probably had someone else to do them for him. If they were naturally like that, you were going to throttle his ass.

You didn’t fucking have amnesia. Hawks is and always has been a stupid, clammy birdbrain. He’s always been cruel to you. He didn’t fucking like you.

He sure as hell wasn’t in fucking love with you.

Oh, my fuck, what if your memories of Hawks have been fabricated by a coma-addled mind and that—

“Hey, there,” said—said someone, some pale-ass, sleep-deprived freak who startled you out of your head, “Are you all right? You look—I mean, do you need some water? A chair?”

You blinked, yet he wouldn’t come into focus—you were taking in details about him, ones that didn’t fucking matter (chain on his wallet, three rings all on the left hand, a button-down missing the last button, a cloud of axe body spray), but he didn’t register as a human person. He couldn’t; you hadn’t grounded yourself yet. You yourself still had a frazzled, cartoon scribble buzzing inside of your chest, and until you vomited it up, a panic attack may yet still happen.

You can’t deal with anyone new right now.

A spark of recognition crossed the new guy’s face, and he, through a smirk, asked if you were your hero name.

Oh god oh fuck not now

“Sweetheart,” came Hawks’s melodious drawl (registering first his voice, then bodily warmth, then the wingtip covering your ass), “You were taking so long that I came to check on you.” He pulled you by the waist towards him, blocking the guy from seeing your face by pressing it into his chest. “Who’s this?”

Who cares. All you could focus on (sharp and overwhelming, nothing else but) was how fucking incredible Hawks smelled, and at this point, you’d use anything to bring yourself back down to earth. A small voice in the back of your head told you that freaking out to this degree in this particular situation was leaning towards pathetic, since basically nothing happened, besides being in an uncomfortable environment and being accosted by a fan at the wrong time, but you? You did not control the rate at which your brain panicked.

And really, no rhyme or reason played into why your grabby little hands itched for human contact once safe in the booth again, why Hawks’s scent lay on your tongue more heavily than your soup, why the overwhelming sensation of being so fucking spaced out of it threw its entire weight upon your shoulders—you couldn’t find yourself. You were lost.

And in this horrible, purple place, the only thing that’s familiar was Hawks.

When you scooted as closely as you could to him in the booth, keeping your glare towards your lap while you looped your arm under his to snuggle into it, Hawks cleared his throat to say, “What’s this?”

You scowled into his jacket, both hands gripping his forearm.

He set his chopsticks down. “How can I help, darling?”

Growling, you bonked your forehead against his shoulder, dragging your hands down to his.

“Hey,” said Hawks, and he guided your face towards his and stroked your cheek with his thumb, “Did that guy bother you too much before I got there?”

Turning your mouth towards the hand cupping your cheek, you kissed his palm, bit the leather, and kissed it again before burying yourself in his shoulder again.

He rested his hand on the crown of your head. “What’s the matter? Can you tell me?”

“Not sure I can put it into words,” you said, “I think I wanna go home.” You bit the fabric of his jacket and gnashed it between your teeth.

“I can handle that,” said Hawks, “Gimme a moment to get takeaway boxes, yeah? Then we’ll leave, and you’ll be safe. Don’t worry.”

Unfortunately, you were still clutching onto his arm by the time he unlocked his darkened penthouse (because you’re not gonna hold his hand. God), but you slapped his hand away from the light switches.

“Turning them on would be too much stimulation,” you said, “Please don’t.”

Hawks hummed against the top of your head, placing keys and both of your phones on the kitchen counter. “Bed or couch?”

“Window,” you said.

“Window?”

“I’m assuming you’ve got one.”

“I do,” said Hawks, guiding you through his dark apartment, probably past scarily expensive, posh shit. He led you to what was most likely his living room, with the cool, dim light of the night sky through a vast, single-frame, wall-to-floor window illuminating furniture custom built for his wings, but he eased you down onto the carpet, tugging your shirt upwards so that the window would be touching your bare skin on the small of your back.

Hawks yanked his boots off, late, instead of at the door, and he tossed them over his shoulder. He took yours off, too, and once he’d set them aside, he sat next to you against the window, a hand on your thigh.

“Better?”

“Probably,” you said, staring at the triangle of light beige carpet between your crossed legs.

“Need me to talk? You need to talk?”

“Not right now.”

Hawks was a dumbass. He’s such a fucking dumbass. But he’s a dumbass who’s here right now, and he’s interested (?) in you, interested in helping you. And good golly, you have to be touched. Hawks’s offering warmth, freely, potentially lovingly, and all you had to do was reach out to take it, even if you didn’t reciprocate whatever sentiment was motivating him yourself.

Do you really want to take what you have no feelings for?

Hawks lies a lot to Endeavor. To everyone. He might not have been lying earlier. What reason had he to lie?

Guess it didn’t matter, because you were lying.

But good God, you haven’t been kissed in a long time. Haven’t felt safe or loved. You could…you could indulge for a few hours in order to calm down. You could pretend.

The last ten months had proved that.

“Hey,” you said idly, reaching out to grab the inner fleece lining of his jacket to rub it between your fingers, “Hawks, I’m gonna—I’m gonna put my mouth on your mouth. Okay?”

Hawks’s wings ruffled and constricted themselves so that he could move closer to you, and his hand has migrated from your thigh to grip your hip—how could anyone’s hands encompass that much of you? Your fucking hands couldn’t, not in the way his does.

(Bird man big and safe.)

([No, fuck you, don’t think that.])

(BIRD MAN SAFE—)

Shoved is how you’d describe the first few seconds of the kiss, followed closely by wet and you’d think his teeth would be sharper. Your lips didn’t line up with his completely until he adjusted your chin with two of his fingers, guiding it open just barely, as well, so that his tongue could graze your teeth—it took you a moment of processing before parting them, with a final don’t think! shouted to your neocortex.

Birds have a higher body temperature than other animals, on average having a body temperature of 105 degrees Fahrenheit (40 degrees Celsius). The colour of their feathers, of course, affects how much light and heat they absorb, with the lighter coloured feathers—say, red—reflecting more, rejecting outside heat sources.

Yet Hawks gripped you like he’d fucking freeze if he weren’t clutching you, if he weren’t straddling your legs, one palm flat against the cool of the window by your head. The other snaked around you, his forearm lying almost vertically up your back to press down between your shoulder blades, keeping you as near to his chest (he probably didn’t realise it, but his fingers ran across the curve of your shoulder blades where his wings were on his own body.

For some reason, the thought crossed your mind that you weren’t enough for him, because you were too dissimilar.)

Don’t think!

When he massaged your tongue with his, applying pressure sporadically, you returned the action—have you ever seen a bird tongue up close? They’re fucking nasty little things, looking more like a grub than anything else. Thank God Hawks had a normal, human tongue that performed particularly delightful, normal things, like drag across the roof of your mouth and aid in sucking phenomenal hickeys onto your jawline, licking over where he’s bitten and kissed.

Stop thinking about bird anatomy. Hawks has no discernible bird traits except for his fucking wings. He’s not a fucking bird man. He’s just some dude with wings. And not all birds have functional wings; for example, the ostrich and the penguin do not have wings to be used in flight—

Oh, my fuck. Turn your brain off.

Your stomach lurched. That had been something Hawks had told you too often, back before your accident.

It’s what he wants.

Hawks fucking whimpered when you pulled the shorter hairs at the back of his neck, prying him away from your skin with great difficulty—he kept trying to touch you with his mouth and tongue in the process.

“Let me have more,” he said, panting, his breath heavy and just below your ear, “Please.” He pressed his lips to the spot in front of your ear in a weak kiss, having spent himself for the most part. “I’ve missed you so much, baby. I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me for so long.”

“I don’t—” You fake-stuttered, but it turned out you needed the time to put your thoughts into words. “I don’t think I’m back yet. I’m,” you said, taking as deep a breath as you could with Hawks smushed against your chest, “Something’s missing. Something big.” That’s right. Steer it back in his direction. Make the bird man sweat. “I don’t—something doesn’t feel right.”

It took a moment, but Hawks nodded fervently, shutting his eyes. “Of course. Yeah. Yeah, I get it, sweetheart. Can’t do anything when your heart’s not in it.”

Your heart’s not the problem. “Thank you for being so understanding, Hawks,” you said, untangling yourself from underneath him, “Would you just, uh, hold me for a while?”

His wings wrapped around the both of you on his enormous bed, still fluttering with each slow breath he took. Hawks almost looked genuine while he slept, and probably for the best—at least he was getting rest; at least his guard might be down.

You couldn’t sleep. Your mind was racing.

***

“Rank speculation is out,” you said, scrubbing the pumice stone over a patch of dry skin on Hawks’s back and scrolling through the twitter with your other hand, “Take a look.”

He opened the link you sent once he’d safely removed a dead feather that had been lodged in an odd spot in a wing. “Huh. Think I could truly take on Endeavor?”

“Well, he’s got that abusive-to-his-family thing, while you’re rocking the preparing-for-my-wedding look, and he can’t network non-aggressively to save his life.”

“Nor can you.” Hawks shot you a smirk over his shoulder.

“Zoom in on my speculated nine, baby,” you said, flicking away some dead skin with a satisfied/disgusted sneer, “And I didn’t have to sleep my way there.”

“Ah, ha, ha,” said Hawks, “Knew you could do it. Whoever’s told you that is gonna have to deal with my foot up their ass. You’re more than capable of getting there on your own.”

“Which I did. I have.” Wait. Hawks told you that. No, it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s a commonly said, misogynistic comment towards women heroes. Hawks isn’t special. “But having your foot up someone’s ass wouldn’t be good for PR, unless you wanted to advertise that you’re a kinky son of a bitch who’s cheating on his fiancée.”

“I would never,” said Hawks, and, contorting his arm, he grabbed your hand with the pumice stone to kiss the back of it, “But my PR is solid, regardless.”

“If the public knew how much time you had to spend preening these fucking wings, they’d probably appreciate you more. Or call you conceited.”

Hawks hummed. “It’s a necessary evil,” he said, returning to his wingtip to search for dead feathers. “Thank you for helping.”

“No problem. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t get to see how—Hawks, holy fuck. Do you feel that?” You ran a finger near the base of a wing.

“It’s your finger?”

“No, this,” you said, tapping the spot.

“No?”

“My God. It’s a dilated pore of a winer,” you said, already reaching for the tweezers, “Right at the base of your wing. It’s basically an enormous fucking blackhead. I’m popping it. Oh, my God. I’ve never seen one in real life.”

“You’re popping it?”

“You didn’t have a problem with my getting the ones where your costume sits.”

“No,” said Hawks, rolling back his shoulders, his wings spreading with them, “Gotcha. Get on with it.”

“Can I film it?”

“What? No,” said Hawks, “No one can see me preening, let alone dealing with acne.”

“There’s sure to be another hero out there with a wing quirk, right? I don’t know how you can’t feel it.”

“Yeah,” Hawks said slowly, “Since my feathers can feel—I suppose where the wings merge with my skin is pretty numb. I haven’t ever had to think about it.” He licked his lips. “Funny.”

He continued to scroll through his feed and tend to his feathers while you worked at his back. “Bad news: the tabloids got a hold of our grocery list from the last time we went to the shops. I must have dropped it at some point in the store.”

“Oh, so do they know what kind of ice cream we prefer? The horror.”

“No, but they’ve brought in some hack handwriting analyst. Talking about our annotations for each other on the list. Something about how you’re logical and I’m a romantic. The writer of the article is practically swooning.” Hawks pulled out a clot of feathers with his teeth and spat them aside. “With good reason, though. The trashy pictures they snapped of us are hot.”

“Describe them to me.”

“I can show you—”

“No,” you said, concentrating on your work, “I don’t want the image imprinted on my brain. Describe them in your own words.”

“All right,” said Hawks, crossing his legs and placing his phone on the coffee table in front of him, “To start, the flash is on.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah. We’ve got that distantly surprised look going on. It looks like we’re near the eggs and cheese. You’re not looking at the camera, but I believe it’s in the moment I caught it.” Hawks flicked away a feather and let it fall to the carpet. “My hand’s on your waist. The other’s on the cart. You’ve scrunched your face up in concentration; it’s really cute.”

“Aw, we should get it framed,” you said, wiping away the gunk with a tissue and wadding it up so that no one will ever have to see or touch it ever again.

“Never,” said Hawks, “The first picture of us I wanna get framed should be on our wedding day.”

“It’s coming along quickly,” you said, setting aside the tweezers, “Bit more quickly than I’d thought it would.”

“Yeah, I can’t wait,” said Hawks with a light laugh, and you ducked to rest your head against his shoulder, straining your neck to reach him over his wing.

Hawks clicked his non-nasty, non-bird tongue. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

Sighing, you said, “Turn your head this way.”

He did you one better, since he anticipated your plan. He twisted around, keeping his legs crossed as he pulled you into his lap. His wings initially bristled but wrapped around you when his arms did, and Hawks kissed your cheek, once, twice, until he arrived at your mouth, where he barely grazed your lips, rather letting his hot breath spread over your face—and he grinned up at you with half-lidded eyes (he’d left off his eyeliner today, but the natural marks below his waterline kept his eyes sharp, anyway).

“Kiss me, you fucking idiot,” you said, overriding whatever he was about to do by kissing him yourself, hard and open-mouthed, almost violent in its fervent. Yet Hawks held you lightly, delicately, but still close enough to freeze.

You ran your cold, cold hands over his bare abdomen, pressing your thumb down with considerable force to trace his muscles (he grunted at that, and that’s it; that’s right—make him squirm; make him sweat; make him yours). His finger only toyed with the hem of his shirt that you were wearing, as if waiting for you, which didn’t line up with what you had garnered about Hawks at all, but c’mon, man, come on; didn’t you want this all those months ago? Almost a year, now? Years, if what he said to Endeavor is true? But when he flinched away with a shaky breath once your cold fingers circled his nipple, you knew this was where you were supposed to be: right here, in Hawks’s lap, completely destroying him with hardly anything at all. Nothing but light touches and a strategic flick of your tongue. Idiot man. He must really like you if this is doing it for him.

You slowed and opened your eyes at that thought, frowning, and you pulled away. With the back of his hand, Hawks wiped saliva off of both of your mouths, yours first.

He waited for you.

“If you can’t take all of me, then what’s the point?”

He tilted his head. “I’ll take whatever part of you you’re willing to share.”

“I’m missing something.”

“I know.”

“I want to find it before we get married.” You laid your palm flat on his chest, and he grinned at the cold.

“You can find it,” he said, “I know you can.”

“I don’t know what I’m blocking out,” you said, lying—or maybe you weren’t? Fuck it. “Whatever I’m repressing is really fucking with me.”

“Take your time,” said Hawks, running his tongue over his lower lip. “I’m here for—”

“Hawks,” you said, faking the light of realisation in your eyes, accompanied with a sharp inhale, “I can’t remember your name.”

Hawks’s mouth snapped shut.

“You told me once. I know you did,” you said, moving to cup his cheek after tapping the mark underneath his eye, “but the memory—there’s a blur where you spoke. I—” You cut yourself off, biting your lip. “That, that might be it. I don’t know. Everything else about the scene is in perfect detail. I remember what fucking socks I was wearing, for Christ’s sake. But you. What you said. Maybe it’s something so personal, so intimate, that I’ve repressed it. Maybe it was too much for me to handle.” You cupped his face with both hands now, forcing him to look at you. If you hadn’t been scrutinising him for some evidence of breaking character, you wouldn’t’ve seen the minute quivering of his upper lip. Hardly there, but it was there. “It’s a part of you that I want. Even if I couldn’t handle it before, I want to try now.”

Hawks averted his gaze, even though he couldn’t move his head. And bang, you’ve got him. Hawks’s name was still strictly secret, hidden by the commission, but if he’s genuinely in this dumbass situation for the long haul, if he’s truly in it for you, then he would have told you. Even if he wanted you to continue to call him Hawks, your own fiancé would have told you his damn name.

So, this is it. The way out.

Hawks was going to feel so stupid when he found out you’ve been faking all this time. Good. Let each feather burn.

“Keigo,” he said, staring into your eyes with a newfound determination, “My name is Takami Keigo.”

Oh, shit—you clapped a hand over your heart, your eyes widening. Maybe you could play this off as memory recovery instead of absolute shock? But you hadn’t any memories to recover, probably. Holy fuck.

Where do you go from here?

You tried to say his name but ended up simply mouthing it, and after clearing your throat and coughing a bit, you managed to say it aloud. “Keigo,” you said softly, reaching for his hand, “Keigo, I fucking love you.”

You’d only been kissing him for a few moments before his wings shuddered in a muscle spasm and flung you off to the side.

***

Only a commission higher-up witnessed your wedding. She stood silently to the side the entire ceremony in the courthouse and only shook Hawks’s hand afterwards.

You and your cat essentially moved into his penthouse and adjusted. Your mostly empty apartment stayed leased under your name.

Sometimes, you’d note that you turned your brain off and instantly be hit with a lightning strike of self-loathing—but you didn’t have to consciously decide to be affectionate with Hawks. Being with him came naturally and easily. Probably for the best, since if you had to think about it, you’d screw it up.

You stayed together. Supported each other. Sneaked out to see the other on patrol. Took care, listened to each other. Defended each other. Worked it out.

And now, you stared up at the ceiling fan whirling in your darkened bedroom, Keigo lying on his stomach next to you in the bed as he slept. Your cat catloafed between his wings and nestled into them, rising and falling with each breath he took. Hawks was perfect, always saving the day, working up a routine to mesh with your fighting style and quirk, always charming and easygoing with the people he rescued, indulging you in your ferocity, and Keigo, Keigo whispered sweet and dirty things into your ear when he spotted you in public, made you laugh, worked wonders with his cock, helped you clean up before he even thought of preening himself, held you, and made you feel held. He’s got it bad.

And maybe you do, too.

Hawks was going to feel so stupid when he found out.

[miraculous-trinity-leo]

Whacky Gotham, Goofy New York, and Chaotic Paris.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7)

Chapter 5: Then Let The Games Begin

•—–—–·†·–—–—•

Soooo, the Batfam is panicking, Gotham's confused as to why Iron Man is flying over Gotham like a madman, and Maria is with two of Gotham's Sirens (but only Ivy and Harley know this) having a wonderful time playing with Bud and Lou.

Let's start with the Sirens.

Harley is watching over Maria and Tikki as they sleep with Bud and Lou, Ivy walkes over to sit next to Harley, handing her a cup of tea.

"So, what's the diagnosis?" - Ivy

"She has some sort of trauma, has class issues... and handles more than she should, but still does everythin', on top of bein' a hero. She's been through some sh-t Pam." Yeah Harley may have found out Maria's a hero (if the tiny god and magic were anything to go by).

"Is she alone?" - Ivy

"No, thankfully, she has supportive parents, and friends that aren't little sh-ts. I think they're also heroes, she also has a lot, and I a mean A LOT of pent up emotions, she doesn't show anythin' negative, only positive things. She seems to shrink in on herself if she thinks she does somethin' wrong. Pam, we both know there's a limit to how much crap a person can take before they snap, and she's such a sweet kid. There has to be somethin' we can do to help her Ives." Ok she found out alot, but in Marias' defense, they have trustworthy souls, and they were the only other people (besides her friends) that she talked to about it, yes she had her Maman and Uncle to talk about hero stuff, but for the stuff her class does, she only ever vented (without being negative) to her friends.

"Her class is visiting the Botanical Gardens in three days, and it's a 2 part tour, so we can see just what's going on. If it's bad then we scare them a bit, if it's bad bad... they can handle a few slightly poisonous plants right?" - Ivy

"God I love the way ya think Ives, do ya think she can stay with us? I mean look at how cute she is with Bud and Lou... Oh my god, she's cuddlin' dem, and ya gave her a flower crown, how'd I miss that?! Where's the camera?"

Harley took a picture to remind her of this wonderful moment. As Ivy and Harley looked at the picture, they both promised to keep Maria safe, and maybe become sorta kinda-ish parents to her while she's in Gotham.

•—–·Now back to the Bat-Chaos Bat-Cave·–—•

Tim took over the chair and was now searching the possible locations with Jarvis, Damian was sitting on a different chair, trying to act cool, but he wouldn't stop looking over at Tim, to see his progress. Bruce was talking over the comms with Tony. Dick and Jason, weren't helping (they kept feeding each other worse and worse ideas of what could have happened to Maria). Then they heard Jarvis speak.

"I have found the most likely area Ms. Dupain-Cheng would be in. Her phone died about 56 blocks away from her hotel, if we don't count kidnapping, or murder, she would have thought about asking for directions, but may have decided not to considering the city she is in. So that leaves us with a possible 15-25 mile radius from her last known location. I think it best to divide into groups of two, have Oracle stay and update you if anything on security, and or traffic cameras happens. Bruce will be with Tony, Dick will go with Tim, and Jason will go with Damain to search within the area. Stephanie and Cassandra will search around a 5 mile radius near Wayne hotel." as Jarvis continued to explain the other details, the Batfam began to suit up, Batman met up with Iron Man, and they took the North area, Nightwing and Red Robin took the East area, while Red Hood and Robin searched the South. Steph and Cass were on foot in civilian clothes, searching the West area they were assigned.

They searched for the whole day, and came up with nothing. Until Oracle saw a video from a traffic cam around 9pm, 15 blocks away from where her phone died. She called it in and everyone went back to the cave. Once everyone was at the Bat-Computer, Oracle pressed play, the cameras didn't have sound, and it wasn't close enough to see if she was ok.

They watched as she went to an overgrown parking lot and sat down. She was looking down at the ground, and that's when they spotted two figures round the corner and spot her. They watched as the two figures approach Maria, and saw the startled reaction she had. They realized it was Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy that were talking to her, then they saw Maria collapse. They watched as Harley made sure she was ok, looking over to Ivy before looking back to Maria and picking her up. The last thing they saw, was Maria being carried away by two of Gothams' most dangerous rouges, but now they knew where to look next.

•—–· Back to Ivy and Harley ·–—•

Harley continued to take adorable pictures of the children.

"God, they're so f-ckin' cute!" - Harley for the 20th time

As Ivy continued to watch while caring for her plants, Catwoman walked in.

"Hey girls, got the stuff for movie night, so what are we- Holy mother of cats! He adopted another f-cking child didn't he! Where the hell does he keep finding them?! 7 was ment to be the god DAMN LIMIT!!!" - Catwoman

Maria jumped at the sudden shouting and may have accidentally summoned a yo-yo (one made useing creation magic and protection magic) before saying.

"Tikki where's the akuma?! How long was I out?! Forget it Tikki spot-" she then realized she wasn't in Paris, and seeing a new face, she also realized she just spilled her secret to another person within the same day... kinda

"Fffffffffffudge sunday that fell on the pavement!" - Maria shouted in baker profanities

"That's not how ya curse sweetheart. It should go more like-" Harley was cut off by a vine Ivy had summoned.

"Harley, cursing makes the plants sad, you know this." - Ivy said removing the vine

Harley just walked over to Maria and whipsered it in her ear.

"You're supposed to say it more like this, ' ..... .... ... .. ....... .. ... .....' ok?" - Harley ended with a big smile

"... I will never see this world in the same frickin' light ever again." - Maria

"ehh close enough." - Harley

"Can someone please tell me, WTH is going on here, on our special girls day off?!" - Catwoman

"She is a new member of the Sirens as of today, and as a member, she's unda our protection, so effective immediately." - Harley

"Cool." - Maria

"Harley." - Ivy

"Wut... first things first, if she is going to join, she needs to be very flexible, know how to fight, and be incredibly intelligent." - Catwoman

"She beat Ed's @ss with a gun pointed at her, and solved every riddle with ease, so I'm positive she'll be an amazin' addition to the team." - Harley

'God she sounds like a new mother now' "But we don't know how good her flexibility is." - Catwoman

"I know, hey Maria, ya wanna do some tricks with me, of course we need to stretch first, but do ya wanna give it a go?" - Harley

"Sure." - Maria

Ivy and Catwoman sat down on a couch a few feet away from where Maria and Harley stood in the empty part of the building. They started out with stretches, and to Catwoman's surprise (and Harley's delight) Maria copied Harleys streches perfectly.

"Ok, now that that's done, we'll start with some cartwheels, then move on to flips, then handsprings and so on." - Harley

Maria gave Harley a nod... and they were off... literally, Harley did a cartwheel into a handspring, and a few backflips, Maria executed it flawlessly. Harley did some more complicated gymnastics tricks, and Maria did it, Harley did triple backflips going into a cartwheel, into a summersault, and Maria did that perfectly as well. This went on until both Harley and Maria were slightly out of breath, both having massive smiles on their faces.

"Ives, please let her join, she's like a mini me." - Harley then hugged Maria and they somehow both tripled in cuteness as they both did puppy (or Puss In Boots style) eyes at Catwoman and Ivy.

"Sure Harley." - Ivy said walking over to give Harley a small kiss on the cheek.

"Okay... but she doesn't have a costume yet, and she still has to think of a name for herself." - Catwoman

"Is a mouse good, like a mouse themed costume, that or a Turtle themed one. What do you think Harley?" - Maria

"Mmmm, I like that with the mouse you can always toy with Cat, ya know, cat an' mouse stuff, turtle seems... weird even fawh Gotham, so personally I would pick mouse, just because of the cheesy jokes you could do." - Harley

"Very funny, ok then, give me a moment."  Maria then reached out her hand, her eyes then started to glow an icy blue, and a small portal opened in front of her, she reached in and pulled out a small pendant necklace. After she put it on a small mouce appeared and greated itself, Marias' eyes going back to normal after closing the portal.

"Hello I'm Mullo, nice to meet you all."

"Omg omg omg, It's soooo f-ckin' CUTE!" - Harley

"Best to assume all of them are extremely cute Harls." - Ivy

"What the Hell did I miss in the week I was gone?!" - Catwoman

"Ehh, not much, oh but Iron Man did fly aroun' Gotham a few times earlier this mornin' like a madman." - Harley

"Oh sh-t." - Maria

"Maria are ya ok? That was ya first official proper curse in my presence." Harley said looking over to the girl.

"He's gonna kill me." - Maria

"Wait, what do you mean Marigold?" - Ivy

"... He's my Uncle, and I never got to text him I was ok, since my phone died before I met you." - Maria

"Hey, I'm sure he'll understand, now what are we watchin'?" - Harley

"I think we have more important matters other than movies at the moment!" - Catwoman

"Ok, Me Myself and Irene it is." - Harley

"No! You basically kidnapped Iron Mans' NIECE!!!" - Catwoman

"Technically, she fainted and us bein' the good Gothamites we are, decided to take her with us, to make sure she was a-okay." - Harley

"I'm ganna need more than just a six pack of soda to get me through this... Just put the movie on already." - Catwoman

Catwoman sat at the far left end of the couch, next to her sat Ivy, then Maria, and then Harley, Bud and Lou by their feet. All of them sharing one big blanket (Becuase if Iron Man did show up, or any of the birds, then Maria was in a protective burrito and they may not see her right away) and they started the movie.

•—–·–—•

"Oh god, the poor cow." - Maria

.........

"Hahahaha, he stuck a whole f-ckin' chicken head in that guys @ss" - Harley

"The poor chicken." - Maria

"Maria you don't want to see this part." - Ivy then lightly covered her eyes for the ehem, chicken extraction.

.........

"Anyone up for another movie?" - Harley

"That depends." - Ivy

"Any suggestions Cat?" - Harley looked across to the other end of the couch to see Catwoman already sleeping.

"She took her cat-nap already? Seriously?" - Harley

"... What about Pirates of The Caribbean?" - Maria

"I'm good with that." - Ivy

And they started the next movie, Maria was happy, it felt like when her maman and papa would sleep with her when she made a pillow fort. It was a loving atmosphere, it felt safe, and nothing could ruin it. Marias' eyes became heavy, and she leaned her head on Harleys' shoulder, falling asleep after a few minutes.

Ivy paused the move looking over to see both Harley and Maria sleeping, soon Ivy also fell asleep in the comfortable silence.

…………………………

Around an hour later Maria woke up in a panic, she had a nightmare, and kept looking around frantically for someone with tears running down her face.

"What's the matter hun?" - Harley said looking around to see if someone had gotten in. When she looked back at Maria she saw that she was crying.

"What happened?" Harley asked in a kind voice that was filled with motherly love.

"I, just *hic* had a bad dream that's *hic* all, I'm fine." - Maira said trying to wipe the tears away.

"You're ok, I promise nothin's goin' to happen to ya as long as Ivy and I are here, ok hun?" - Harley hugged Maria, and she could feel the girl let out a few more sobs, and quick breathes.

"Thanks Maman." Maria didn't even realize what she had said, it just felt natural for her to say it.

"You're welcome hun." 'Omg I'm gonna cry, she called me maman!' Harley rubbed small circles over Marias' back, and began humming until she fell asleep, she continued to hug Maria until she also fell asleep.

•—–· Back to the Chaos Bat-Cave ·–—•

"What do you mean she's with two of Gotham City's Sirens?!" - Tony

"Tony, calm down, I'll call Selina, she can talk to them and get this all sorted out." - Bruce

"Your fiancee is a Gotham Siren too?! Why didn't you tell me?!" - Tony

"Why isn't she picking up? And unlike some people, this family doesn't like outing our secret identities... on live TV." - Bruce

"Oh well excuse me for not keeping my secret identity a SECRET!" - Tony

"I'll try calling her one more time." - Bruce

"Bruce, it's 3am. Who in their right mind ever stays up this late.... aside from this family." - Tim with a giant coffee mug in hand.

"... I'll just call her one more time." Bruce then connected it to the Bat-Computer so everyone could hear.

•—–· Back to the Sirens ·–—•

Catwoman's phone is ringing like crazy, waking everyone up, including a tired, annoyed, and confused Selina.

"Wth does he want at 3 in the morning?!" - Selina

"Just answer it so we can keep sleepin'." - Harley still hugging Maria

"I'm putting it on speaker, so you lot can testify against his @ss in court, for disturbing the peace."

•—–· Over to Batsy ·–—•

"Selina I need to ask-"

"WHAT THE F-CKING HELL DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND ABOUT A GOOD NIGHTS REST!" - Selina

"Oooooh, she sounds pissed Bruce." - Jason

"I'm sorry to call you at this hour, but we need to find a girl that looks just like every single one of my other kids." - Bruce

"Bruce... I thought we agreed that 7 kids was. the. f-cking. limit." - Selina

•—–· Back to the Sirens ·–—•

Selina looked over to Maria before muting the speaker.

"Do you want them to know you're here Kitten?" - Selina

"... I'm tired, I haven't had coffee, I have no filter, so f-ck it, act like you never saw me today, and let them drown in chaos. " - Maria

"I think I like filter less Maria." - Harley

"Okay." Selina shrugged her shoulders and then un-muted her phone, putting it back on speaker mode.

"Where was she last seen?" - Selina

"She was last seen with Harley and Poison Ivy, I want you to see if she's still with them." - Bruce

Selina looked over to Maria and Harley, both of them shook their heads with mischievous grins.

"I've been with them all day, and I haven't once seen a girl that looks like your kids. Now can I go back to sleep, and forget this ever happened?" - Selina

"WHERE IS MY NIECE!!!" - Tony

"Oh, hey Tony, didn't know you were there, don't know who, or where your niece is, but good luck trying to find her. Oh and Bruce, I'm shutting my phone off so you don't keep calling till the butt crack of dawn. And congrats it's now 4am. you owe me a lunch date, uh-ba-bye." Selina then hung up her phone and turned it off.

"That went pretty well if you ask me, now I'm going back to sleep." - Selina

•—–· Back to Batsy ·–—•

The room was silent for a few minutes before Jason spoke up.

"Does that mean that Pixiepop ran away and is even more lost now?!" - Jason

"Oh god, what do we do, what if she got hurt?!" - Dick

"What if she got kidnapped?!" - Jason

"What if she's with a big time Gotham Villain?!" - Dick

"... What if she got more coffee?" - Tim

"Oh Hell No" - Jason/Dick

"... Lets all go to sleep, and when we wake up, we'll head over to their base and double check. She could've just said that because I called her at 3am." - Bruce

"But my niece is still out there!" - Tony

"You're going to sleep Tony." - Pepper then dragged Tony to his room.

•—–· Back to Maria ·–—•

Selina went to a different part of the building, where Maria assumed the bedrooms were. Ivy had gone to the greenhouse to be with the plants, and now it was just her and Harley left on the couch, and she couldn't sleep.

"... Harley?" - Maria

"Yeah hun?" - Harley

"I can't sleep." - Maria

"Well, watcha wanna do till ya get tired?" Harley asked sitting up a little straighter to get a better look at Maria.

Maria gave a sly smile, and looked Harley in the eyes "Want to go free-running on the rooftops?"

"... Alright, but lets get some coffee, and a snack in us first." - Harley gave her a side hug, before getting up to go make the coffee, and grab some snacks.

After they had their coffee, they climbed to the roof of the base. Harley was in her outfit, bat in hand and ready to do some bonding.

"So, how does ya outfit work?" - Harley

"Like so, ready Mullo?" - Maria

"Yes Maria" - Mullo

"Ok, Mullo, Get Squeaky!" A bright light flashes, and when Harley could see again, Maria was in a dark gray suit, wearing black knee high boots, with a strip of pink at the knee, and black elbow length gloves with the same pink strip at her elbow. Her mask was a slightly lighter gray on the top part, and pink on the bottom. Her hair was pulled into two buns with pink ribbons that faded to gray, and to black at the very tip. Her jump rope around her waist forming a tail going just below the back of her knees.

"Just when I think ya can't get any more adorable. So what should I call ya?" - Harley

"You can call me Multimouse." - Maria

Soon they were racing and doing tricks off different roofs, they were really enjoying themselves. From one of the roofs they heard a commotion in one of the alleys, when they looked down they saw a man holding a woman at gunpoint.

"Not good, seems like he's got issues, probably lost his lover, most likely has additions to drugs and alcohol, and seems to be a little tipsy." - Harley

"I've got a plan." - Multimouse

…………

Multimouse droped a little way behind the guy, grabbing his attention while Harley got the lady to safety.

"You know there's a help center two blocks from here that would be more than willing to help you." - Multimouse

The crook just raised his gun to her trying to keep it steady as he spoke.

"Give me all your money little girl, or else I'll hurt you."

"1. That's not how you hold a gun. 2. That is no way to treat any girl. and 3. Instead of money, I'll give you my jump rope." - Multimouse

"Why the hell would I want your jump rope, that thing looks worthless." the crook lowered his guard enough as Multimouse pretended to hand over her jump rope, only to use it in a quick motion to dismarm the man, as Harley promptly knocked him out with one swing.

"Lets neva have ya at gunpoint again, okay hun? I'm afraid my heart can't take it." - Harley said while tying the crook to a lamppost.

"Sorry, but it was the best idea I could come up with at the moment, besides, any guy with a gun would feel like they have the upper hand if they're facing a random little girl with a jump rope, rather than Gothams' Harley Quinn with a bat." - Multimouse

"Sadly I'm just too popular with the kiddos on the street." - Harley

…………

They continued to stop a few more muggers on the way back to the base, and when they got back they peaked around the corner to see the whole Batfam plus Iron Man talking with Ivy and Selina.

"How much you want to bet we can get back out before they see us?" - Whispering Multimouse

"... Lets try hidin' in the kitchen." - Whispering Harley

As they tried to sneak by (still in their costumes) Selina just walks over and draggs them to the group.

"Here, now let me sleep!" - Selina

"Dang it Selina we wanted tah see just how long we could hide out in the kitchen!" - Harley

Selina did a double take now realizing they both went out.

"... You didn't." - Selina

"We wanted tah go free-runnin'! So what?" - Harley

"She could've gotten hurt Harls." - Ivy

"My suits magic, I am invulnerable to bullets, normal magic, swords, knifes, anything staby staby, and I can withstand any temperature in it." Multimouse said with a slight pout.

"Hold up, is she a magical girl?" - Red Hood in the background

When Selina let go both Harley and Multimouse went behind Ivy for protection.

"We can still make a run for it." - Harley whispered to Multimouse

"... Ok, I'll meet you on the roof." - Whispering Multimouse

Harley gave a nod as she slowly inched her wasy closer to the door that lead to the roof, as she saw Iron Man approach Multimouse.

"Please get out of your suit, we need to talk about why you're here-" - Iron Man

"Multitute!" - Multimouse

Harley then saw Multimouse shrink into dozens of tiny little versions of herself as her clones spread out in all directions, one of which was heading right for her.

"Wth, you never told us she could use magic!" - Red Robin

Harley picked her up, and slipped through the door without anyone noticing.

"That was great, but how do ya get back tuh normal size?" - Harley

"Simple, I just merge back with my clones." As she said this, all her clones came back, and she merged with herself, becoming normal sized again.

"Where to?" - Multimouse

………… So now The Batfam is trying to find many long gone Mini-Multimouses, and Harley seems to have disappeared with her. Harley and Multimouse are now running over the roofs, heading for Wayne Manor.

"So why are we going to Wayne Manor?" - Multimouse

"Because, Batsy will neva think of lookin' for us at his own home, at least not fawh a little while." - Harley

When they arrived at the Manor, Multimouse de-transformed as Harley knocked on the door.

"Ms. Quinn, Ms. Maria, pleasure to see you here, please come in." - Alfred

"Are any of the bat-birds here?" - Harley

"Ms. Barbara, Ms. Stephanie, and Ms. Cassandra are the only ones here at the moment." - Alfred

"Do ya think you can keep us bein' here a secret from Batsy?" - Harley

"Harley? What are you doing here with Maria?" - Barbara

"It seems that Ms. Harley and Ms. Maria are now playing hide and seek with the rest of the family." - Alfred

"Did someone say hide and seek?" - Steph

"Yes, so could we maybe try and keep this a secret from everyone else, please?" - Maria

"Sure, it was starting to get boring around here. We can all hide in the living room no one ever use. Barbara you show them the way, I'll get the food/drinks and boardgames." - Steph

"Is this alright with you Alfred?" Maria

"It's all right Ms. Maria, you can hide out in the old living room." - Alfred

"Thanks Alfie, ya the best." - Harley

"Thank you Alfred." - Maria

"Ok then, follow me." - Barbara

…………

In the old living room, Harley, Maria, Barbara, Steph, and Cass began to formulate a plan.

"Ok, so the best way for them to never find you is to have your phone off, stay away from any and all cameras, and show your face to no one." - Steph

"So, do you have anything in mind that you might want to do?" - Barbara

"Can we put them on a wild goose chase?" - Maria

Cass nodded to Marias' suggestion approvingly.

"I can hack a few traffic cams to help with that." - Barbara

"We can also throw in some useless hints, to throw dem even further off our scent." - Harley

"Good idea Harley." - Barbara

"Thanks, but how long do ya think we should make it last?" - Harley

"As long as Maria wants it to." - Barbara

"Then let the games begin." - Maria.

•—–—–·†·–—–—•

Chapter 5 complete. Hope everyone is stayin' safe, Rockin' those Positive Vibes, and havin' an absolutely wonderful day. BUG-OUT 🐞💮🐞

〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜Tag List〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜

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[jangofctts]

omg I just read so much of your writing and I’m 🥺🥰🥲🥵 the absolute royalty shit that we see here today. i’ve recently discovered I am very into ~thigh riding~ so do u have any thots on how our boys (especially our clone babes) feel about it? much obliged

IVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS ALL DAY KEJHKJRH SO HERE YOU GO OMG

boba: yEs--boba absolutely adORES when you crawl into his lap and straddle his thigh. he’ll either pat his lap and invite you up or it’s one of those times when he’s intentionally ignoring you and you have force your way onto his lap so he has to pay attention. imo the first time you ride his thigh you weren't intending to, you wanted to fuck him but with boba, if you want something from him he’s gonna do it his way or twist it into something to tease you. so he’ll say something like “if you’re so desperate, ride my thigh” or maybe “ride my thigh and then we’ll see if you deserve my cock.” he’ll sit back and enjoy the show with a smug grin, one hand gripping your hip. he’s not controlling your pace, it’s mostly just there as an anchor bc you’re gonna be doing all the work. you’re lucky if you get to ride his bare thigh, but most of the time he’s got pants on so they always end up soaked after you cum and boba always teases you for it, “ruined another pair of pants, little one” but really he isn't even one to talk, he’ll be rock hard and leaking through his pants too. he’ll also nine times out of ten put his fingers or thumb into your mouth to suck on while he flexes and pushes the hard muscle of his thigh up to your cunt. he likes that satisfaction of knowing that even his thigh can make you shudder and whine his name--a bit of a power trip esp if he’s sitting on the throne. he’ll fuck you nice and hard afterwards if you’re a good little princess for him          

din: din wants you to ride the beskar thigh plating. he doesn't realize it’s a thing he finds arousing until you sit over his thigh and he sees the heat from your thighs fog up the metal while your arousal smears over the shiny beskar. literally it’s like something just CRACKS in him and he goes feral for it. a dark thrill that comes from seeing your cunt drip over his precious armor, something so sacrilegious that shouldn't be arousing but it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen. sure, it’s a bit cold at first but the more you get into it the quicker it heats up--it’s slippery too, not a lot of friction unless you drag your clit over the seams of the armor, but with din’s hands holding onto your hips and dragging you over his thigh, it’s not long before you cum. din is gonna be encouraging you the whole time, just a constant flow of praise and little moans of his own. he might bury a hand in your hair or slip off his glove and touch your clit when your hips roll up into his hand. he’d loose his mind if you lended a hand and palmed him through his pants. he doesn't even care if he ruins his trousers, he’s just so...fixated on the hypnotic motions of your hips rolling over his thigh, your wetness dripping off the plating and onto the floor. he might focus on your mouth, parted with gasping moans or how they roll the syllable of his name. he likes to watch you come undone like this, shuddering and whiney as you cum and eventually roll off his thigh. he probably busts a nut right then and there if you start to roll your tongue over the beskar, happily cleaning up the mess you made. but....sometimes...lick it off himself just to get a taste of you       

paz: big boy blue ALSO likes when you ride his beskar, but he likes it better when the armor is off and he gets to feel your wetness for himself. he has big ol’ beefy thighs and likes when you straddle one and start to ride him like that. imo he likes it when youre pressed up right near his cock so when you roll forward your own thigh brushes against his cock. it’s also just easier for him to grab your hips, set a pace and watch you squirm and whine. ngl he’s more interested in fucking you, so he’ll get cheeky and start jerking his thigh or holding you in place while he circles his thumb over your clit. p much will sabotage your wild ride and convince you to slide onto his cock instead. though,....if you were to tie him up, tease him bye riding his thigh, he might like that :)  

rex: oH rexY BOY--listen, rex has heard ALL about thigh riding, or rather what the clones like to call it, “paint job”. he doesn't understand the big deal, thinks that it’d be a complete hassle to clean and what not. in my oPiNiOn he’ll be sitting with you in an empty break room or on a couch, you both have feelings for each other but nothing's been said yet. somehow the topic of paint jobs come up and he tells you what he thinks and how it “couldn't possibly feel good, blah blah blah”. you just roll your eyes and you ask if he’s even tried it. he definitely blushes and mumbles out a no and with a leap of faith you ask him if he wants you to ride his thigh. baby boy rex gets very shy and embarrassed about it but he’s not gonna say no. so you’ll flash him a little grin and peel off your pants and your over shirt, make rex relax against the back of the couch/chair and sit over his plastoid covered thigh. even though when you start to grind on his thigh you still have your underwear on, rex with pick a corner of the room to just stare at. it’s not because he doesn't like you, he’s just incredibly shy and afraid he’ll cum in his pants if he looks at you. you gotta cup his jaw and force him to look at you. when that happens his eye will immediately drop to between your legs and just moan at the sight. he gets it now. seeing your arousal that’s already leaking through the thin fabric and staining the blue and white plastoid--he has to grip the fucking sidearm to anchor himself. his armor is one of the only things that he owns and is proud of, so seeing you riding his thigh, moaning and whimpering his name he goes wild for that shit. unfortunately he does end up cumming in his pants but eh fuck it. it was worth it   

cody: he likes when you ride his thigh in semi public places like the 79′s, debrief room, gunships, you name it. imma explain the 79′s scenario bc im a whore but anyway, cody likes to bring you on dates there, one because the drinks are free for him, two it’s dark and so unless someone is really looking at the two of you, it’s pretty secluded. he always chooses a back corner table and after a couple drinks you start to get handsy--nuzzling his neck and wiggling your fingers between the gaps separating his thigh and codpiece. it alWAYS starts like that. cody will chuckle, push his nose into your neck and nibble a line up to your ear, then bite down onto the cartilage. in that dark, rumbly voice he might sigh “such a depraved little creature. we’re in public”. but you can feel his smile and how is pulse quickens under your fingertips. cody will sigh and shake his head as he pulls you onto his lap, bUT--he’s gonna have you with your back to his chest plate, your dress/skirt/pants rolled up or down just barely in the view of anyone who glances over or looks a little closer. it’d be no secret what you both were up to but cody likes that. dude doesn't have any shame and so he’ll wrap an arm over your hip, push you panties to the side and slide his fingers through your folds. once they're coated in your arousal he might pop them into his mouth or yours, clean them off then flex his thigh onto your pussy. when he asks you to grind on his thigh you readily agree. while you ride his thigh he’ll nibble at your throat and suck bruises onto your skin, either watching your wet pussy slide over the plastoid armor or on the look out in case one of his brothers comes near. one time, just as you started to cum, a couple fresh shiny’s got an entire eyeful of you arching and burying your nose into cody’s neck as he rolled his fingers over your clit. safe to say they were a bit spooked--but of course, cody thought it was the funniest thing and couldn't stop laughing even if you were close to tears with embarrassment. now....he doesn't invite anyone to watch, but he wouldn't say no to a few prying eyes          

wolffe: I feel like with wolffe, it’s gonna be right after a mission--one of you might've almost died or gotten real hurt so he’s not thinking about fucking you properly--he just want his mouth on yours, hands buried in your hair as he pins you against the wall. I dont think he initially meant for you to ride his thigh, but when he wedges it between your legs and you moan into his mouth the second he increases the pressure, he freezes. he’ll do it again and when it receives the same reaction from you he smirks and tugs on your hair and might say smthn like “you like that? if you wanted to ride my thigh you could've asked sooner”. he’s either focused on your face or on your pussy, just soaking up all your little reactions or twitches when you roll your cunt over the plastoid. he'll have both hands on your hips, helping you grin up on him, while you either cup his face or grip his arm. either way youre in for a wild fucking ride--wolffe tbh wants to see his armor dripping by the time he’s done with you. sO do nOT be surprised if he just, doesn't let you stop, pushes you to keep going until he’s satisfied. imo I think he’ll make you lick it up after, or just in general would really Like It if you run your tongue over any part of his armor. he likes to be Appreciated :)

wrecker (im sorry I just nEEDed to include him kejkejh): honestly since baby boy wrecker is uh, so big, thigh riding is some of the first things you try with him. you’ll both be butt ass naked bc it’s just easier to explore like this, and while wrecker is eager he knows he has to think about his strength in order not to overwhelm or hurt you unintentionally. he’s a bit of a goof ball so when you straddle his thigh and bring his thicC fingers to your cunt he’ll smile and say some shit like “wow, you’re wet” or like “is it always this wet/soft?” he doesn't mean for it to be teasing, it's more like he’s just stating a fact bc he’s curious about you. you just nod and say it’s all for you, baby/only for you. the second you put your cunt over his thigh he’ll curse and clamp his hands around your hips or ribcage, and just to make the experience all that better for him, you’ll jerk him off while you ride him. wrecker is very vocal/loud and so you’ll know exactly what you’re doing that he likes--he’ll probably tell you how pretty you look, or how good you smell etc., that bOY IS SO FULL OF LOVE and just wants to tell you! it doesn't take long for him to spill into your hand, he shakes and no doubt wakes up half the barrack/ship but who the fuck cares. you just smile and continue to ride his thigh, chasing your own thigh. once he recovers a bit, you can grab his fingers and show him how you like to be touched. he’s a surprisingly quick learner with this and so it doesn't take long for you to cum. afterwards he’ll run his fingers over his thigh, collect the mess you left and taste you and maybe say “you should ride my face. can we do that?”     

[soulwillower]

tozier • stanley uris

(stan x tozier!reader smut)

requested: okay so once regular requests open, here’s my idea. so the reader and richie are siblings and they absolutely hate each other and to get under his sisters skin, he fucks her best friend. so in sheer anger she decides to fuck all of his

warnings: semi-public sex, oral (fem receiving), stan teasing the reader a lot, some dirty talk? i think thats it. also a tiiiiny bit of exhibitionism i guess at the end. very unedited

part 6 of the tozier series [  i  ii iii  iv v ]

(losers and reader are 20+ and in college in this)

4.1k words

♡

the door opened and closed downstairs as you towel dry your hair, the fog of the scorching shower you'd just endured fogging your mirrors. you frown as you wipe a line through the mirror and your eyes stare back at you for a split moment before the fog reclaims the image and you sigh.

pulling yourself together, you unlock the door and start to walk towards your room on the other side of the house. as you pad towards your room, a throat clears and you jump a bit, eyes landing on stan from where he stands at the bottom of the stairs. he's grinning, "hey, y/n." he says gently, eyes staying on your face. your face goes warm, "hi, stan. um - richie's- i don't know where richie is," you start, looking around.

richie rounds the corner as if he's been summoned, brushing his teeth as he itches his side. you hiss, "stan's here. why didn't you tell me he was coming over?"

it's quiet enough that the boy down the stairs can't hear you and richie narrows his eyes with a smirk.

"calm down, it's just stan. he's the only one here for dinner tonight. the others won't be here 'till sometime after. why d'you ask?" he asks, his mouth covered in spit and toothpaste. you wrinkle your nose at his poor hygiene but gesture to your frame, wet and covered with only your towel.

richie fixes you with an eye roll, "believe me, nobody is interested in you like that. especially stan. you're just self obsessed, y/n, it's embarrassing for you. not everyone wants to fuck you. i'm pretty sure nobody does." he says with a slight glare. "just because you're into my best friend doesn't mean he's into you."

you shove richie immediately, your eyes catching a glimpse of light brown curls as they zip around the balcony, disappearing. you wish he hadn't heard that. “fuck you, richie. why do you try to embarrass me? i hate you.” 

a moment later, your mom is calling your names. "richie, y/n! stan's here for dinner!"

you're furious and the look you send richie as you turn to escape to your room burns through his skull. you're flustered as you get ready for dinner, pulling on your clothes with bright red cheeks. your mind goes to the party you'd all gone to the other week - the night that you and bill had hooked up.

you can't believe you've almost done it. you've slept with five of richie's best friends, and he doesn't even know yet. the boy downstairs comes to your mind and you sigh, thinking back to when he'd teased you at the party, when you'd sat on his lap to the quarry the other day, when he'd slid his foot against your leg under the table the the other night while you were all eating....

the butterflies in your stomach won't go away. plus, it's stan - and for some reason that seems different than the rest of them....

you find your way to the dining room, eyes meeting stan's. he grins from where he's sat, playing with the bottle of beer in front of him, your father having offered him a modelo. "hi, y/n." he says in greeting, giving you a smirk. you smile back, "hi, stan."

"that skirt looks great." he says, "kind of too bad you changed." 

 and you clear your throat just as your dad and richie walk into the room, hands full of plates of food. you're red, hoping they hadn't heard. what the hell has gotten into stan? 

after that, dinner went by without much issue besides you and richie getting into a fight until your father forced you two to calm down.

now, the losers are over and bev is insisting someone go get ice cream from the store so you can all watch a movie with sundaes. "stan the man, you should go." mike says with a grin, causing stan to flip him off with a bored face. your eyes catch on his hands and you can't help but let your mind wander...

"why?" stan asks. eddie shrugs, "you do drive the fastest."

the others laugh and you smile at the ground a bit in amusement. "fine. i get to pick the flavors, though."

the protests from the others echo in the room and you roll your eyes, "just promise to get vanilla?" you ask, and stan looks at you. "what, you're a vanilla girl?" he asks. the others are buzzing in the background about their favorite flavors, but the intense look on stan's face makes you grin. "n-no, promise i'm not a vanilla girl." you say, lifting a brow. he's smirking full-on. "i just know eddie is." you add, and stan laughs. his smile gives you butterflies and eddie nods, "uh, yeah, it's objectively the best flavor, because then you can-"

he's ranting now, and stan shakes his head with an eye roll as he stands up and flips his keys around his fingers. "i'll be back quick."

"why don't you take your little girlfriend with you?" richie teases, gesturing to you. you throw him a glare. "fuck off, richie. y/n, get over here." stan says, nodding his head and gesturing for you to follow him out the door. it's so quickly that stan agrees to have you come along that some of the others share a look, making your stomach burn. he gives one more pissed off look to richie before he leaves the room, and so you awkwardly follow him out to richie's car.

it's a quick drive to the store. finally, you’re back in richie's car with several different ice creams in your hands. you and stan mostly joke the whole time, until you slide into his car again and fall into a moment of silence.

"it's always been funny to see richie say all this bullshit about you in front of me." stan breaks the silence, and you look at him in surprise. he shrugs, eyes still on the road. "not funny that he's an asshole, but it's just amusing. that he thinks i'm not attracted to you."

your stomach drops just as fast as your jaw does at stan's words. "oh, y-you..." you try to act casual. "what?" you ask then, trying to understand what he means. he laughs a bit, jaw tilting back and glinting in the afternoon light. "c'mon, y/n. look at yourself." is all he says, shaking his head as his eyes drag up your figure before returning to the road.

you stare at him, butterflies fluttering in your stomach and your thighs clenching.

"i know you like me, remember? since what, fifth grade?" he says with a cheeky grin, eyebrows lifting in a tease. you let out a breath, the butterflies thumping in your chest. "god, stan. that's not funny."

"why?" he asks, his voice deep as he sets the car towards your house again, the ice cream at your feet. "that joke is so old." you whisper, looking at stan. he raises his brows, "is it?"

"yes." you say firmly, but you feel your resolve breaking. he hums, shaking his head but not speaking.

it's quiet besides the song playing on the radio quietly - every little bit hurts by brenda holloway - and you pretend not to feel your heart flutter in affection as you hear stan sing along under his breath. 

he's driving with one hand on the wheel, one down on the shift. "you know, you don't need to have your hand there. this isn't a manual." you say, changing the subject and gesturing to his stray hand. 

he laughs and it ignites something very deep inside of you. "i'm so used to shifting gears. force of habit, i guess."

"richie's an idiot, he can't even drive manual." you say, shaking your head.

"yeah, but sometimes there's benefits to richie being incapable of driving anything but automatic." he says, his hand falling softly to hold onto your bare thigh. you grip the side of the car door tighter, unable to take his teasing anymore.

stan's pulling into your driveway, and so you turn to him. "why are you teasing me? did someone tell you something?" you ask. what if one of the losers squealed and told him that you fucked them all? he sighs, putting the car in park and looking at your eyes. 

"what? i'm not joking around. you just look so hot in that skirt." he admits with a light laugh and red cheeks.”if i’m making you uncomfortable, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to at all, i just really want you.” 

it’s honest and bold, just the way stan usually is, and you swallow thickly. he really wants you? "prove it, then." you say, eyes locking with his, his hand squeezing your bare thigh.

two minutes later, you're laying down in the backseat as it’s parked in your driveway, stan on top of you sucking the skin on your neck.

“you want to do this right now? even though we could get caught?” you say breathlessly, hands tangled in his hair. "when else?" he says, staring at your lips. your stomach drops a bit, but you don't let it bother you too much as you have stan between your legs in the backseat.

"then let's go, uris." you say, pulling him down by the neck in desperation. he smirks into the kiss, kissing you so deeply you see stars.

"you think it'd be hot if i fuck you in his car, huh?" he whispers quietly in your ear. your eyes roll back as his fingers rub tight, teasing circles over your core, a fire slowly being lit. you only whimper a bit, biting your lip. "y-yes. we don't have time, th-though-" you gasp then, as he slips a finger into you.

he still watches you intently, listening as if nothing was abnormal as he pumps his finger, curling it and making you whimper as you try to spit out your words. it makes you turn bright red. "the ice cream- it'll melt, they'll know." you say through a moan, eyes shutting as he pumps his finger in and out of you teasingly.

"richie says it...t-tastes different after-" you moan, "-after it's been too melted."

"he's full of shit." stan pulls back, finger still teasing you. your chest raises and falls quickly, feeling flustered and desperate. stan smirks, "plus, i want to taste you first."

your throat gets dry. "p-please." you say, cheeks feeling hot with need. the windows are starting to fog up in the car he's parked on your driveway as he slowly slides the underwear down from your legs, kissing the skin as he goes. you're breathing shakily and then he's bringing his eyes up to you before lifting up your skirt and bringing his head under, your eyes rolling back to stare up at the lights in the back of the car that richie and bev had strung up one night.

you gasp in pleasure as you feel stan's tongue dart out and lick a bold, flat stripe up your heat. "fuck," you whisper, your hands moving from gripping the seat you've laid on to pulling up your skirt to lace your fingers through his hair. he swirls his tongue around your clit and you tense, the feeling of pleasure unlike anything you've felt before.

you wonder if it's because you could get caught by richie at any moment, or because it's in richie's car, or just because it's stan.

his hands snake up to hold your waist as he starts to move his tongue, holding you down so you can’t buck your hips, his thumbs rubbing the skin that's revealed between your top and your skirt.

“stan.” you whimper, back arching and yelping as he slips a finger inside you. he hums around your clit and your toes curl, gasping and whining as he pumps into you and curls his finger. his name falls from your lips like a prayer and you can almost feel his smirk against you as his tongue starts to work circles. 

his hand still presses against you as you buck your hips, your legs wrapping over his shoulders. he pulls away slightly, lips glistening as he smirks up at you. “you're perfect, y/n.” he mutters, making you moan, legs squeezing around his head. he smirks at you, finger coming up to rub at your clit slowly as he brings his tongue to thrust into you.

you squeeze his hair lightly as you whimper, the feeling euphoric as your toes curl. his name falls from your lips every few seconds as he ruthlessly eats you out, the coil in your stomach about to release. “stan, please, i’m gonna cum.” you mutter, eyes closed and chest rising and falling.

“not yet.” he says, jaw set as he pulls back, meeting your eyes. you whimper at the loss of stimulation, looking at him in shock. his hand comes up to grip your jaw softly, and he kisses you sweetly. "i want you to forget about everything and everyone besides me." he whispers against your lips.

chills run down your spine - does he know about the others? there's no way stan knows.

you nod, biting your lip as you watch him move back down between your legs, this time slipping two fingers into you and rubbing your clit with his thumb. "how's that feel?" he mutters, and you feel like you're on fire. "fuck- stan, so good. feels s'good." you mutter. he hums, sinking back down to suck and toy with your clit, fingers curling expertly and making your stomach tense as you try not to cum.

"stan, please, please, please-" you start to beg, arm coming to your forehead as you shake. he hums against your clit and you moan loudly - loud enough that if someone were passing by the car they'd certainly know - and clench around his fingers. "no need to beg, y/n." he says cockily, eyes glinting with pride. "cum for me."

you're shaking and moaning his name as you finally hit your high, the best orgasm you think you've ever had. your breathing stutters as he laps you up with his tongue gently, other hand soothing your hair. your eyes are pressed shut as you clench through your high. "fuck, stan." you whimper.

he's pulling himself to sit up and bringing his fingers to his mouth to clean them off, looking at you with an almost questioning look. it makes you feel like putty. 

"i think you need to get eaten out more often, babylove." is all he says before he opens the door, adjusting his pants, slipping your underwear into his pocket, and grabbing the ice cream. "or at least by someone who knows what they're doing."

you're speechless as you gather yourself, smoothing your hair and sliding from the back of the car on shaky legs. stan turns to walk towards the front door but you shove him quickly against the hood, kissing him deeply. you taste yourself faintly on his soft lips, and his free hand comes to grip you, squeezing your ass as he kisses you back. you pull back, "give me my underwear." you order. he shrugs, "you’ll be fine without them, won't you tozier?"

your jaw drops. "it's like you want richie to find out." you say, giving him a slight glare despite the intense butterflies in your gut. he grins at you, pecking your nose. "so what if he does? doesn't change the fact that i'd do it again."

and then he's pulling you by the hand gently towards the house and you're stumbling behind him with red cheeks and jello legs.

jesus christ, that just happened.

"goddamn, what made you take so long?" richie mutters as you and stan walk back into the room, stan’s hand leaving the small of your back after pinching your ass slightly. you clear your throat. "the self check out line was so long." you respond.  

"whatever. i'm hungry. where's the ice cream?" richie asks, the others in the room all looking at you. stan moves to sit next to bill on the couch.

"it's in the freezer. it softened up on the way back." stan says, seemingly disinterested. his passiveness makes your throat dry. why was that so hot?

"it's a three minute drive." richie says, sitting back down. you follow suit, sitting on the floor and grabbing a blanket, wary of the fact that you're sitting with 7 people who, if looking, might catch that you're not wearing your underwear. that stan has your underwear. 

"okay. guess we just hit a road bump." stan says, picking his nails. bev snorts at that, and ben's grinning. you huff a laugh, too. it's funny when stan's rude to richie.

"bet y/n's just happy she got to spend time with you. she was probably drooling over you the whole time, huh?" he says as if you're not there.

"richie, what's your problem?" you spit. he looks at you, "so defensive." he laughs. bev rolls her eyes, "you're the one who's always teasing her, richie. ease up."

"what, are you two girlfriends now?" richie says, still on his cocky attitude. you glare.

"no, we're not. but we did fuck." bev says casually, staring at richie with a serious look. richie rolls his eyes, "okay, don't joke about fucking my sister. off-limits."

"what?!" you yelp, standing up quickly, adjusting your skirt with a red face. thank god it's not too short. stan smirks as he sees you adjust your skirt, but all richie's friends are staring at him and you. "you have to be kidding, richie. you are such a fucking hypocrite."

he rolls his eyes, "cecily and you aren't even that close anymore!" he defends. "yes, because of you!" you yell. “it’s too late, anyways. i think we’re even.” you add with a grin.

“just get over it. and stop trying to say you fucked my friend, it sounds desperate. as if any of them would settle for you." richie snarls, smirking as if he's proud of what he'd said. 

it makes you smirk, shaking your head. if only he knew.

"richie, i don't think she's joking." ben speaks up. everyone's eyes turn to ben, and your heart pounds as you bite your lip. you look at each of the others quickly - ben's gnawing on his lip and looking at richie uncertainly, mike is staring at the ground in thought, eddie's staring at his lap with an amused smirk, bev is smirking between the two boys with her eyebrows raised, and bill is looking at ben with a small look of realization.

your eyes land on stan, who's staring back at you intently, a suggestive look on his face as he tugs a small part of your underwear from his front pocket as he thumbs it with his finger. you send him an intent look back, trying to beg him not to do it.

when you look at richie, he's shocked, mouth agape. "what?" richie says quietly. 

"you fucked my best friend. it was only fair." you say with a shrug, smiling at him. he looks like he might punch you.

you stifle a laugh, trying to keep a straight face but failing. richie looks furious as he walks up to you, the two of you standing in the middle of the make-shift circle the losers formed in the living room. he’s breathing heavy, face red. you don't think he’s ever looked so furious in his whole life. 

"which one?" he says through a clenched jaw, looking quickly over each of their faces, all of them smirking back slightly. you can’t help your own smirk or the shrug. 

"all of them."

part VII coming soon

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