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liketolaugh-writes · 1 month ago

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Sick Day Once A Year

I might be too much in love with the Death Echoes trope. So, have a whole bunch of Bruce taking care of Danny. It's basically a sickfic with extra hurt/comfort.

It takes place in the same verse as More Like Home but probably won't happen until after the plot of that fic is done. At this point, Danny has been living with Bruce for a little under a year.

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At noon, Alfred called Bruce to ask him to come home early. Bruce turned around and walked out of the board meeting without even looking at anyone, but did throw a distracted 'family emergency!' over his shoulder. He might have carefully cultivated his airheaded Brucie persona, but even then people knew that he took his kids seriously.

He ignored the board member that grumbled 'enough fucking family to have an emergency every day if he wants.'

"What is it, Alfred?" Bruce asked, once he was clear of the board room and in the elevator. Calm. Calm. No running. Brucie doesn't run.

"Master Danny declined to specify the nature of his sick day this morning," Alfred said, in a dry tone that didn't do a bit to hide the worry underneath it. "Apparently the anniversary of one's death is rather... physically harrowing for a ghost. He's admitted that he'd like to have you here."

But of course he hadn't asked for it, because that would require bringing up what he was. Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I'll be there as soon as I can. Ten minutes at most."

"I'll let him know. Come prepared to spend several hours in his room, if not the rest of the day. He indicated that he may be well enough to eat by eight or nine o'clock, but even then..."

Meaning he expected to be debilitated until then. "Understood. Should I bring anything?"

"He's not aware of anything that will help, but some topical analgesic might be of use. I will see if I can find anything else to try."

"He's in pain?" Bruce's brow furrowed. Alfred hesitated before answering, which made Bruce's heart sink.

"He is... physically reliving his death, he says, and will be for most of the day. He is in quite a bit of pain."

"These kids will be the death of me," Bruce muttered. Danny hadn't even hinted at anything like this when he asked for the day off. Bruce made a mental note to keep him off patrol the next night as well. The elevator stopped, and he took off at as quick a walk as he dared. "I'll be there in ten."

"Yes, Master Bruce." Alfred hung up, hopefully to return to Danny.

On the way, he collected a few items that seemed promising: IcyHot cream in the strongest available formula, both heat and cold packs, a variety of compression bandages, and some muscle relaxers from the Batcave infirmary.

Bruce knocked on Danny's door. Cool air drifting out of it indicated either Danny or Alfred had turned the thermostat down lower than usual. Fortunately, Bruce had grabbed a jacket just in case.

"'M in," Danny mumbled, barely loud enough for Bruce to make out.

He pushed the door open and was unsurprised to see Alfred seated beside a miserable-looking Danny. He was surprised to see Danny in ghost form, as it wasn't a form he typically spent recreational time in, particularly when he was unwell. Perhaps it made the ordeal easier. Danny was curled up in his bed, on top of the covers, with his jumpsuit removed and a set of soft pajamas in its place. Alfred was running one hand through Danny's soft white hair, slow and comforting, while his other held one of Danny's.

"Hey, chum," Bruce called out quietly, drawing Danny's attention to him. "Heard you're hurting today." Danny hummed unhappily instead of denying it, which was concerning. "Think you'll be able to eat anything for lunch? Applesauce, bone broth, yogurt? Maybe with ectoplasm?" Danny didn't seem to have any intention of leaving ghost form.

Danny started to shake his head, but stopped to consider when Bruce brought up the last point. "Applesauce and ectoplasm," he mumbled. "Maybe. Nothing after like, two, though."

Alfred gave Bruce a warm smile and gently extracted himself from Danny. "I will see to it," he promised. "Do you need anything else, Master Danny? Master Bruce?"

Danny shook his head mutely, and Bruce said, "I'll text you an update once we've tried these." He hefted the bag he was holding. "If you could bring me lunch when you can, I'd appreciate it."

"Of course," Alfred promised. "I hope you feel better, Master Danny."

"Thanks, Alfie."

Alfred left, shutting the door gently behind him, and Bruce took his place, setting the bag at his feet for now. Danny didn't stir from his leaden sprawl, not even to lift his head.

"You didn't have to leave work, y'know," Danny mumbled, half into the pillow. "I'll be okay."

He didn't apologize, Bruce noted. That was progress. "I know I didn't have to. But someone should be here with you."

"I don't-" Danny choked, his hands squeezing into fists as his whole body shuddered and jerked as if tased. Danny panted through the spasm, his whole body rigid, and when it was over he slumped down and let out a weak moan of pain, making no attempt to continue arguing. It took Bruce a moment to remember to breathe, reminding himself forcefully that this was no attack.

"I brought you some stuff," Bruce said, softer. Danny grunted in discontent. Bruce leaned down and opened the bag anyway. "IcyHot lidocaine cream and muscle relaxers." Danny shook his head without looking. Bruce wasn't surprised. He hadn't realized Danny was in ghost form. "Both heat and cold packs." Danny hummed in mild interest but didn't open his eyes. "And compression bandages."

Danny blinked his eyes open to consider them. His usually neon eyes looked dull. "Worth a try," he muttered after a moment.

Good. Something was better than nothing. "Do you need help sitting up?"

Danny's mouth quirked in a dry smile. "Not yet."

He pushed himself up with a grunt, and shrugged off his pajama shirt with intangibility rather than lift his arms. Bruce had to suppress an immediate and visceral reaction to the glowing lines that coiled up his left arm, which he had only gotten glimpses of before; a telltale Lichtenberg permanently etched onto Danny's ghost form. In contrast to the rest of him, which had dimmed to about the light of a glowstick, the Lichtenburg mark was painfully bright.

"Where do you want these?" Bruce asked, lifting one of the rolls of elastic bandaging. Danny cocked his head and considered it. Then he gestured silently, indicating his left arm from his wrist to his shoulder, and twisted to give Bruce access. With the ease of long practice, Bruce started to wrap it. "Anything I should expect?"

Danny watched him unroll the bandages for a minute, around and around, getting halfway up Danny's forearm before he answered. "The pain comes in waves. They'll keep getting longer, more severe, and closer together until around four, and then they'll die down completely about two hours after that." He paused, watching Bruce loosen the bandages around his elbow before moving on. "It won't ever get as bad as actually dying, but it's still pretty bad. And I'll be really emotional for a lot of it, especially when it hits peak."

"When are you not." The words were out before Bruce could think twice about them. Fortunately, Danny laughed, tired but genuine.

"You've got me there. How many rolls of bandages do you have?"

"I brought three. Alfred can obtain more if necessary." Pretty bad, Danny said. Bruce had no desire to experience pain that Danny described as 'pretty bad.' His tolerance was high even for their family.

Danny shook his head. "That should be okay. Can you do my back too?"

"Yes, but I'll need to be closer." Danny scooted to make room, and Bruce shifted to sit next to him, then tapped a spot low on Danny's spine. "Starting here?" Danny nodded. "Alright. Is there anything else I should know?"

Thankfully, Danny seemed to genuinely think about it, but eventually he shook his head. "I've only had two of these," he reminded Bruce. "There's more stuff I don't know, probably."

Ah yes, a frustrating constant. The elusive nature of comprehensive information about ghosts. Even Constantine had large gaps in his knowledge, which Bruce would grudgingly admit was rare for the man. This? This was definitely not in the introductory handbook. Was Bruce now obligated to share information in return? Hn.

Danny squinted at him. "What did Constantine do now?" he asked.

"Constantine."

"You have a very distinct 'thinking about Constantine' face."

"Hn."

Danny smiled briefly, then yelped, curling up like a bug and accidentally dislodging Bruce's grip on the bandaging. Instinctively, Bruce tucked Danny against his side, and Danny shook and twitched against him, a desperate whine tearing itself free as Danny rode out the wave of pain. Bruce all but held his breath until Danny finally slumped again, breathing heavily. His chill crept through the jacket Bruce had slipped on before coming in.

"Ready to keep going?" Bruce prodded, once Danny's breath evened out. Danny laid there for another few seconds, then nodded and pushed himself upright with a wince. Bruce picked up the dropped end of the bandage, tightened what had come loose, and kept going. "You're sore?"

"Ha." Danny lifted his arms slightly, enough to make room for Bruce to work. Bruce shifted and encouraged Danny to rest his arms on Bruce's shoulders, and Danny did, leaning against him. "Yeah, I wake up pretty achy already, even though I don't start getting spasms until ten. Just to make sure I have a really miserable day."

Uncharacteristically bitter, Bruce noted, but unsurprising under the circumstances. He didn't comment. "Remarkably, we don't currently possess any upper back bandages. I'll ask Alfred to retrieve one if you're happy with the results. We do have shoulder and wrist bandages." Bruce finished wrapping Danny's torso but didn't pull away.

Danny turned his head to squint at the bandages peeking out of the bag. "Why'd you bring so many?"

"I know how you died," Bruce reminded Danny evenly. Electrocution implied muscle pain, and Bruce had suspected his left arm would take the brunt of it. Danny shuddered, a natural one this time, and pressed himself against Bruce for comfort. Bruce dropped an arm around his back, holding him. A minute or two passed, and then Danny pulled away with a sigh.

"Okay."

Right, yes. More compression bandages. These went by much faster, simply needing to be strapped on, and soon Danny's hand and shoulder had joined his left arm and mid-back in compression. He seemed satisfied with that and laid back down on the bed, somewhat more relaxed than when Bruce had first come back in. Bruce hesitated, then shifted closer again and set his hand on Danny's upper back, carefully trying to smooth out the painful knots that had developed there. Danny 'mm'ed softly but didn't otherwise react.

Alfred knocked on the door, and Bruce called him inside when Danny made no move to. Alfred pushed open the door and brought in two plates, one for Danny and one for Bruce. Bruce accepted his with a nod.

"Thank you, Alfred," Bruce said quietly. "Danny, are you up to eating?"

Danny didn't answer at first, but then shifted around to glower half-heartedly at the bowl Alfred had brought. Then he buried his face in Bruce's arm, grumbling, and Bruce's mouth twitched in amusement. It disappeared when another tremor wracked Danny's body, and the young teen bleated in pain, his grip tightening painfully.

Bruce forced himself to breathe evenly this time, and massaged Danny's hand with his own, pressing through the thick bandage. Danny slumped, panting, and with care, Bruce shifted his hand to massage all the way up Danny's arm, coaxing the tension out of the muscles there until he reached Danny's shoulder, skipped past the compression bandage, and pressed his fingers into Danny's back. Danny didn't say anything, but he pressed into Bruce gratefully and stayed relaxed. Somehow, still, Bruce was startled when Alfred joined him, cupping Danny's temple in one hand.

"Master Danny?" Alfred coaxed, more firmly than Bruce had. "Can you stomach some applesauce?" Danny whined, a softer-toned protest than the low keens of pain he'd let slip. "I know, but you will feel worse if you don't eat anything. I don't think you want that."

Danny grumbled something that sounded like 'no' and acquiesced, allowing himself to be propped up just enough to poke the glowing applesauce with a spoon. He brightened a little at the reminder that Alfred had added ectoplasm, and started to eat. Bruce followed his example and worked quickly through his sandwich.

"I see you're making good use of our extensive collection of medical garments," Alfred said to Bruce, making Bruce snort quietly. "Will you be needing anything else?"

"If he's satisfied with the improvement from these, we'll need one for his upper back as well," Bruce said. "I'll let you know."

"Perhaps after this, the collection will be complete."

Danny got through about half the applesauce before he pushed it away, and Bruce set it on a clear spot on his nightstand before Alfred could pick it up. He glanced up at the butler. "I'll see if I can coax more of this into him later."

Alfred gave him a small smile. "Very well. I'll check in later to see how the two of you are doing."

Bruce nodded, and Alfred left to attend to the manor. Bruce turned his attention back to Danny and considered him. He had a few more questions - why Danny was staying in ghost form, if there were any physical effects from this - but nothing that couldn't wait until Danny was less ill. He picked up his tablet instead. "Would you like me to read to you?"

Danny tilted his head up to look at him, then nodded. It was barely twelve thirty and he already looked exhausted, pale even for his ghost form and cradling his left arm protectively. Bruce hoped he'd be able to sleep at some point, but that seemed unlikely until the pain had passed, which apparently would not be for hours.

Bruce picked up his tablet and quickly downloaded a book. Danny had mentioned wanting to read 'The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy' a few times, but hadn't gotten around to it yet. "The story so far: in the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move."

Danny snickered softly.

As always, reading to his kids made time pass a little faster. It also gave him easy access to the digital clock, and with the note function innate to the Kindle app, he could keep track of the time and Danny's progressing condition, most importantly the interval between spasms and the relative severity of the pain.

After half an hour, he noted that the current interval period was about twelve minutes and asked Danny, "Are the compression bandages helping as much as desired?"

Danny nodded. He'd pulled a thin blanket over himself after a while, mainly for comfort, and his hold on his left arm was still loose enough that Bruce believed it was more psychological than physical for the moment. "Hurts less when I can't jerk around so much. One for my upper back would be good. The shoulder one isn't quite cutting it." He made a face.

Bruce shot off a text to let Alfred know. "Anything else you want?"

Danny wrinkled his nose. "Heat pack?" he asked, softer and more tentative, as if there was anything Bruce would say no to right now.

And that was simple enough. Bruce activated one of the handheld heating packs and handed it to Danny, who shuffled around a little before putting it on his neck, by the junction of his shoulder. Bruce picked his tablet back up and continued reading.

Alfred returned about twenty minutes later with the requested bandage, and Danny didn't protest when Bruce went to help him sit up. He wasn't weakened, Bruce judged after a minute, but there was a minute tremble in his muscles that indicated the pain was ramping up even outside of the periodic spasms.

Bruce helped him get the new compression bandage on, and then paused to smooth out some of the building tension there. Danny leaned in gratefully - he was much more physically affectionate than most of Bruce's children, he'd come to realize, except perhaps Cass and Dick. Bruce kept an eye on the clock, and made sure to get Danny down before the next spasm hit. Danny groaned, the sound drawn-out and wavering unhappily, and clung to Bruce through it before falling into a shivering, panting slump.

Alfred ran his fingers through Danny's hair, nodded to Bruce, and left quietly, as harried as ever when one of the kids was suffering.

"You happy like this, chum, or do you want to lay back how you were?" Bruce asked Danny quietly. Danny grunted, then squirmed further into Bruce's lap. It was a little eerie, Danny being so light and cold in this form that Bruce could have mistaken him for a lap full of snow, but it made Bruce smile for a moment. "Alright."

He settled down and picked up his tablet to resume reading, noting the time and event before he continued.

A part of Bruce, a not-so-small part, was furious that Danny had meant to handle this alone, without anything to even try to ease the pain; it reminded him of when nine-year-old Tim had caught a bad strain of flu, and how confused he had been when Alfred insisted on him staying at Wayne Manor to be cared for. This might not have been particularly dangerous, it was true, but Danny was miserable now and only promised to get more so through the day.

He wondered briefly how Danny had spent the previous two such events. Certainly not with his parents, there being no human explanation for this. Could he even be home for it, in the comfort of his own room, or did he have to go elsewhere? Had he been alone for either of them? It unfortunately seemed likely, especially if he hadn't known about it in advance the first time.

Even with the bandages stabilizing half his upper body, Danny's groans and whines slowly progressed into low keens of pain, and he started to clutch at himself through each one, gasping for breath like it was the only thing that would bring him comfort. Bruce shifted so one of his hands rested on Danny's shoulder, where a gap between the shoulder and upper back bandages seemed to be creating a sharp spot of pain that Danny kept trying to get at. He massaged it carefully without looking away from the tablet, and Danny relaxed a little, panting.

At two thirty, Danny started to cry, exhausted tears shining on his cheeks and faint, breathy sobs following each spasm. At three, Bruce noted that the interval had decreased to six minutes, then set the tablet aside and transferred his attention to comforting Danny.

"How are you feeling, chum?" he asked quietly.

"Hurts, God, it hurts," Danny choked out, trembling like a leaf and his better hand clamping down on his shoulder again. "'S so cold, Bruce. It's in my bones. Shouldn' be in me."

Cold. Ectoplasm? Bruce wasn't sure. Danny had never described his accident at length. "Heat pack?"

Danny nodded jerkily, so Bruce leaned forward, careful not to jostle him, and grabbed a few. He lifted the blanket enough to place one on Danny's upper back and one on his lower, then noted the time and the request. If this was indeed a yearly event, a thought that made his blood boil, they'd need to be better prepared for it next year.

A stray thought crossed Bruce's mind. Did this happen to Jason as well? Jason had never referenced anything of the sort, but he also knew that Jason never went out on the anniversary of his death. Bruce would know; he'd specifically looked out for him the first few years, before the habit became apparent, and still kept half an eye out since.

Danny cried out, no longer making any effort to muffle the noise, and seized and jerked through another long episode. Bruce counted silently. Up to thirty-three seconds. When it was over, he sobbed and curled closer to Bruce.

"Why'd they have to build that stupid portal?" Danny choked out. Bruce ruthlessly clamped down on another wave of rage at the eldest Fentons. "God. A-ah. This sucks. I wanna go to bed. I want it to be over." His voice cracked.

Sleeping pills, or a sedative? They wouldn't work on Danny's ghost form either, but depending on why he wasn't reverting to human, they could try to get him to sleep through as much of the day as possible. Something to discuss later on. "It's 3:16." Danny whined in protest. "I've got you. What hurts the most?" He checked on the heat pack by Danny's neck, making sure it was still in place.

"My chest hurts," Danny sobbed quietly, his face wet with tears. "My heart is stopping."

Unfortunately, Bruce couldn't help with that. He set his hand on Danny's chest anyway, and Danny reached up and clutched at it, apparently finding comfort in the futile gesture all the same. Even his hand trembled.

"'M scared, B," Danny confessed after another minute, almost too quiet to hear. Bruce's chest tightened, and he breathed through another wave of frustration and hatred before he could soften his voice enough to reply.

"You're going to be fine, Danny. You'll be in pain for a few more hours, but that's all it is."

"'M already dead," Danny murmured. From inflection, Bruce deduced that it was meant to be self-soothing.

Bruce's throat ached. "...Yes."

At four o'clock, the interval dropped to two minutes, counting from the end of one spasm to the start of the next. It barely gave Danny time to breathe, and he tossed and turned until Bruce moved both of them so Danny could sit up and hold onto him, crying into his shoulder. Danny held on with bruising force - and no more, as careful as Clark even now - and jerked, hands tightening and loosening in Bruce's jacket with the ebb and flow of relived pain.

You did this to him, Bruce thought at the elder Fentons, more than once.

At exactly 4:36 - Bruce was keeping as close an eye on the clock as he could manage - Danny screamed. Bruce immediately recognized the sound from an echo audible in his Ghostly Wail. Bruce's jacket tore under Danny's hands, and a horrible, quaking tremor seized Danny in an unmistakably fatal grip. Bruce counted the seconds and held Danny too tightly for him to accidentally shake himself loose.

Forty-six seconds. That was how long the worst spasm held him. Bruce assumed that was also how long it had taken Danny to die.

In contrast to the other times, when it finally released him, Danny pressed in closer instead of loosening his grip, and sobbed hysterically.

"No, no," Danny choked out, and "Please, I don't wanna-" and "Dad, Dad."

What did you say after something like that?

"I've got you," Bruce settled on. "You're safe. You're with me."

Danny calmed down slowly, sobs dying down into heaving breaths and then into a deep but labored rhythm that closely matched Bruce's but seemed to take much more effort. The next spasm that hit was much lighter, lasting only eighteen seconds, but it still sent Danny into renewed shudders and tears, holding on tightly.

When Danny seemed calm enough, Bruce shifted him enough so that Bruce could hold him in one arm, then pulled his tablet back over and logged the time of death, length of the accompanying fit, and what had followed. Interval immediately increased back to more than ten minutes (Bruce had unfortunately missed the precise time) and period decreased to eighteen seconds.

Danny set his head on Bruce's shoulder.

After that, things got much easier. At 5:15, Danny removed himself from Bruce's lap to lay down. He removed all of the heat packs and passed them to Bruce, but kept the compression bandages on. He didn't reach for the blanket but hummed gratefully when Bruce pulled it over him anyway, and Bruce sat on the floor beside him and debated returning to reading aloud.

"Whoa. You two look wiped."

Bruce looked up. Duke had opened the door to talk to them, probably too worried by what he'd seen through the door to remember to knock first, and his expression was pinched with worry. "Duke. Anything on patrol?"

"Uh, some movement I'll tattle to Jason about, but nothing big." He studied them with concern. "How's Danny doing? I didn't realize he was this sick."

Hm. Had Alfred declined to explain what had happened? Bruce glanced at Danny as the teenager hummed unhappily, but Danny didn't say anything else, so Bruce provided, "He's had a long day. I expect he'll go to sleep soon. We'll debrief tomorrow."

"Debrief?" Duke frowned at him, understanding immediately that there was more than what he'd been told, but then he glanced at Danny and just nodded. "Alright. Feel better soon, Danny. Get some rest, okay? I'll let Alfred know how you're doing."

Danny's hum this time was more positive.

At 5:30, Danny fell asleep. At 5:45, Dick came in to check on them and left once he'd come to look at Danny's sleeping (calm) face, and at 6:15, Cass came in with a plate of food for Bruce and a few granola bars for Danny. For when he wakes up, she signed.

A little while after 6:30, Bruce fell asleep without meaning to.

#no one hates danny's parents quite as much as bruce does #the fact that he hates them for some of the same reasons he hates himself is irrelevant #danny fenton #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #dpxdc #my writing

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rynwritesreid · 11 months ago

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Kiss it away| Spencer Reid

A/N:This is my first time writing a sub Spencer, so it may not be as good as my other smut pieces. But I still hope you enjoy. This is also partially requested as someone wanted a sub!Spencer. Please tell me if you want more sub! Spencer. I’ve also started writing the first chapter of Mind Games, and honestly I’m really looking forward to posting it on here.

Summary: Spencer is suffering with a migraine, you find a natural way to help relieve his pain, with some natural analgesics.

Content: Smut and fluff. Fem!reader. Dom!reader. Sub!Spencer. established relationship/dynamic Praise kink. Handjob (M!receiving). Oral(M!receiving). Vaginal penetration (P in V). Cream-pie. No mentions of contraception. Pet names (Good boy. Sweet boy). Migraines/pain. A tiny mention of Spencers addiction(literally in passing/referencing why he wouldn’t want medication). Vulnerability. Caring reader. Use of Y/N. Suggestive ending. 18*

Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation

Spencer, the man known for talking people’s heads off and giving everyone unwanted statistics, was being unusually quiet. In fact he didn’t really seem to be all there. He kept rubbing his head and couldn’t seem to be in bright rooms for prolonged periods of time.

Even when you two were at home together, he wouldn’t talk much to you. Instead, he would shut himself in the spare room with the lights turned off and the curtains drawn. You didn’t know what to do, or how to help. You knew he wouldn’t want any medication, so all you could do was try and offer a helping hand.

Before going to work one morning, you decided to ask him if he was okay to go to work. You were sure that everyone would understand him wanting to stay home if was feeling this ill.

“Hey, Spencer. Are you okay? You’ve being acting off lately. Are you sure you want to go into work today? We’ve not been called out into the field or anything.”

Spencer looked up from his coffee, his eyes bloodshot and distant. He gave a weak smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"I appreciate your concern," he murmured, his voice barely rising above a whisper. "But I can't stay home. I need to keep my mind occupied, even if it feels like it's tearing me apart."

You watched him closely, the worry etching deeper lines upon your face. Spencer had always been a man of routine, finding solace in the structure and predictability of his work. But now, there was something far more sinister lurking beneath the surface.

"Spencer, please," you pleaded softly, taking a step closer to him. "You don't have to suffer alone. We can figure this out together. Maybe it's time to seek some help."

“I’ve already being to the doctors; they couldn’t see anything wrong. So, please let me go into work.” Though his voice barely crept above a whisper, you could sense the anger.

You sighed, feeling the weight of his frustration and desperation. You knew how much he valued his work, how it gave him purpose and stability. But seeing him like this, so lost and distant, it tore at your heart.

“I’m going to call in sick, handsome. Please join me in staying home today, let me take care of you.”

Spencer's eyes flickered with uncertainty, a mixture of gratitude and resistance fighting within him. He seemed torn between his desire to protect you from the darkness that plagued him and his fear of burdening you with his own struggles.

"I don't want to hold you back," he whispered, his voice trembling with vulnerability. "You deserve someone who can give you the happiness you deserve."

Your heart ached at his selfless words, for they only made you love him more. You reached out and gently cupped his face, your touch tender and full of reassurance.

"Spencer," you murmured, your voice laced with determination. "Happiness is not something I seek outside of us. It is in being with you, in trying to help shoulder your burden. Let me be here for you."

His eyes searched yours, tears shimmering in their depths. Slowly, he nodded, relinquishing the weight he had been carrying alone for far too long.

“Okay.” He whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of relief and vulnerability. "Okay, maybe staying home with you today wouldn't be such a bad idea."

You called Hotch, who was very understanding, and told him that you were both taking the day off work.

You closed all the curtains and kept only a little lamp on and told him to make himself as comfortable as possible. His sat down on the sofa, with his cup of coffee in hand. You decided to do some research, to see what possible ways you could help ease his pain.

Through your research, you saw that orgasms can help, as they act as a natural analgesic. You didn’t know if that was something Spencer would be willing to try, but you knew it was worth a shot.

You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of nervousness and determination as you approached Spencer. Sitting down beside him on the sofa, you gently placed a hand on his thigh.

"Spencer," you began softly, trying to find the right words amidst the heaviness in the room. "I've been doing some research, and I came across something that might help... It's a bit unconventional, but... orgasms can actually act as a natural analgesic. They release endorphins that can alleviate pain and promote relaxation."

Spencer blinked, surprise flickering in his eyes as he processed your words. You could see the wariness and scepticism etched across his face, but there was also a glimmer of hope.

“Would you like to try it; you don’t need to do anything. I’m going to do all the work.” Spencer's gaze met yours, his apprehension slowly fading as a small spark of curiosity ignited within him. He knew the pain that haunted him was not physical, but if there was a chance that this unconventional method could provide even a momentary respite from the torment in his mind, he was willing to give it a try.

"I trust you," he whispered, his voice laced with vulnerability and gratitude. "If there's a chance it might help, then let's give it a shot."

“Now that’s my good boy. I’m going to make you feel better, okay?” Your voice was light, soft and caring.

You led him into the bedroom, making sure that he would be comfortable. You slowly took of his clothes, making sure to be delicate. You could feel the tension and anticipation building between you as each article of clothing was removed. Spencer stood before you, his naked body exposed and vulnerable. You took a moment to appreciate the sight before you, the way his gaze met yours with a mix of trust and longing.

With gentle hands, you guided him to lie down on the bed, his body sinking into the soft sheets. The dim light cast a warm glow across the room, creating an intimate atmosphere that felt like a sanctuary from the outside world.

You positioned yourself beside him, your fingers trailing delicately along his skin. Every touch was deliberate, filled with tenderness and a desire to ease his pain. Slowly, you let your hand travel lower, caressing the sensitive skin just below his belly button.

Spencer's breath hitched, his chest rising and falling with measured anticipation. His eyes never left yours, as if seeking reassurance that this act of intimacy was meant to heal rather than exploit.

“I love you, my sweet boy. I would do anything to help you. Do you understand?”

Spencer nodded, his voice barely a whisper. "I love you too," he replied, his words filled with gratitude and vulnerability. He trusted you implicitly, knowing that your intentions were pure and genuine.

As you continued your gentle caresses, your fingers slowly descended further, tracing the outline of his growing arousal. The weight of his pain seemed to lift slightly as pleasure began to replace it, inch by inch. Your touch was delicate and purposeful, seeking to provide comfort and relief rather than raw desire.

Spencer's breath hitched again, a soft gasp escaping his lips as your fingertips brushed over the sensitive head of his penis. His eyes fluttered closed momentarily, his body relaxing into your touch as you continued to stroke him with soothing care.

With each stroke, the tension in his body seemed to dissipate further. His muscles softened beneath your touch, the knots of anguish gradually unravelling as pleasure washed over him in waves. In this moment of intimacy and vulnerability, he allowed himself to let go of the weight he had been carrying. The pain that had consumed him for so long began to fade into the background, replaced by a newfound sense of relief and release.

You watched the transformation unfold, your heart swelling with both love and pride. This was more than just physical pleasure; it was a catharsis, a moment of respite amidst the storm that raged within Spencer's mind.

As you continued to stroke him, your movements became more purposeful, more focused on unlocking the pleasure hidden beneath the layers of his pain. You could feel his body responding to your touch, his breath quickening and his muscles tensing with anticipation.

"Let go, Spencer," you whispered, your voice laced with both tenderness and command. "Surrender to the pleasure, let it wash over you and carry away the darkness."

His eyes snapped open, meeting yours with a mix of vulnerability and trust. He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly as he allowed himself to fully surrender to the pleasure that enveloped him. The heaviness in his mind melted away, replaced by a blissful ecstasy that radiated through his body.

You continued to stroke him, your movements steady and sure, attuned to his every response. The room was filled with the sounds of his gasps and moans, mingling with the soft rhythm of your touch. With each stroke, the tension in his body unravelled further, making room for a profound sense of release and relief.

Spencer's muscles twitched beneath your fingertips, his body trembling on the precipice of something powerful. His breath hitched as he teetered on the edge of climax, teetered on the edge of being released from the chains of his pain. And then, with a shuddering groan, he let go.

His whole body convulsed as an intense wave of pleasure coursed through him, washing away the thoughts that tormented him.

“Oh, my sweet handsome boy, look at the mess you’ve made. I guess I better clean it up, huh? Would you like that?”

Spencer didn’t answer for a while, he was still coming down. As he caught his breath, he let out a “yes”. You lowered your head, making sure to give him a trail of kisses.

You lowered your head, pressing soft kisses along his abdomen as you made your way down to his spent cock. The taste of him was familiar and comforting, a reminder of the intimate connection you shared. With each gentle lick and suck, you cleaned him up, taking care to savour every drop.

Spencer's body relaxed further against the bed, his muscles loosening as a blissful satisfaction settled over him. His chest rose and fell with deep breaths, the weight of his pain replaced by a gentle calmness that washed over him.

“You don’t we’ve finished yet though. Do you?”

Spencer's eyes fluttered open, his gaze meeting yours as a flicker of anticipation danced in his eyes. The words hung heavy in the air, a promise of continued pleasure and release. He shook his head slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"No, I don't think we're finished," he replied, his voice filled with a newfound sense of confidence and desire. "I want to keep going."

You smiled back at him, a mix of adoration and mischief dancing in your eyes. Your hand gently cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing over his bottom lip.

"Good boy," you murmured, your voice dripping with satisfaction. "Let's see just how far we can take this."

With a mischievous glimmer in your eyes, you leaned down and captured Spencer's lips in a searing kiss. Your hands roamed over his bare skin, tracing every dip and curve, as desire coursed through your veins.

Spencer's body responded eagerly to your touch, his hands gripping the sheets as he arched into your caress. His kisses grew hungrier, more desperate, as if he sought solace not only from his pain but from the world itself. There was an unspoken understanding between you, an unquenchable hunger that demanded to be sated.

You slowly lowered yourself back to his cock. As you worked your mouth up and down his length, your hand stroked his thigh, adding to the sensations coursing through him. Spencer's moans grew louder and more desperate with each passing moment, his body arching off the bed as he surrendered to the ecstasy that washed over him.

You could feel the tension building in him once again, his breath quickening, his muscles tightening. With a final stroke of your tongue, you brought him to the edge once more, guiding him over it with expert precision.

His release was explosive, his body convulsing in waves of pleasure. You swallowed every drop, savouring the taste as if it were a decadent treat.

“Do you think you can give me another?” He slowly nodded your head, as he found himself unable to speak.

You moved off the bed so you could undress yourself. Spencer’s eyes scanning your body, he couldn’t believe how lucky he was. With each piece of clothing that fell to the floor, Spencer's anticipation grew. He watched you undress, soaking in the sight of your bare skin, the contours of your body that held a promise of pleasure. The desire in his eyes mirrored your own, a hunger that demanded to be satisfied.

As you climbed back onto the bed, naked and eager, Spencer's hands reached out instinctively to touch you. Each caress was filled with longing and need, his fingertips tracing the lines of your body as if memorizing every curve.

Your skin tingled under his touch, and you couldn't help but gasp at the electricity that coursed through your veins. It was as if every nerve ending in your body had awakened, craving the pleasure that only Spencer could provide.

With a gentle push, you urged Spencer to lie back on the bed, his body surrendering to your desires. Your lips sought out his with an urgency born from months of pent-up longing and anticipation. The taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mixture of desire and need.

“You haven’t been able to cum yet. Please let me help you out?” His voice was cracking, his eyes pleading for you to let him do anything.

“My sweet boy, I told you I was going to be doing all the work. Just relax.”

Spencer nodded, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and desire. He allowed himself to sink into the mattress, surrendering control over his pleasure to you completely. You straddled him, positioning yourself just above his aching need, teasing him with the anticipation of what was to come.

You began to slowly grind against him, the friction between your bodies sending waves of pleasure coursing through both of you. Each movement was deliberate, calculated to build the tension and desire that simmered just beneath the surface. Spencer's hands grasped at your hips, pulling you closer, desperate for more contact.

But you kept your pace torturously slow, denying him the release he yearned for. Each time he tried to thrust upwards, seeking more contact, you gently but firmly held him down, reminding him who was in control.

"You're doing so well," you whispered as you leaned down to capture his lips in a searing kiss. "Just a little longer. I promise it'll be worth the wait."

Spencer's body trembled beneath you, his fingers digging into your skin as he fought against the overwhelming need for release. His eyes were glazed with desire, his lips parted in a silent plea for more. The intensity of his desire mirrored your own, and you reveled in the power you held over him.

With each tantalizing movement of your hips, you could feel yourself growing wet and swollen, your own need begging to be satisfied. But this moment was about Spencer, about giving him the pleasure, he so desperately craved. You would have your turn soon enough.

His moans grew louder, more desperate, filling the room with their raw intensity. With each passing second, Spencer edged closer to the brink of ecstasy. But you were not ready to let him go just yet. Your movements quickened, but only slightly, teasing him with the promise of release while denying him its full realization.

"Please," he begged, his voice thick with desperation. "I need to cum, please."

You smiled down at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of affection and dominance. You knew he was on the edge, his body trembling with need. But you wanted to push him even further, to take him to a place of ecstasy he had never experienced before.

"Patience, my love," you whispered, your voice silkily smooth. "I want to make you feel so good."

With those words, you increased the tempo of your movements, grinding against him with a relentless rhythm. The pleasure intensified, threatening to break through the dam of control that Spencer had managed to maintain. His breaths came in ragged gasps, his body writhing beneath yours as he fought against the mounting pleasure.

You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a searing kiss that swallowed his moans and pleas for release. Your tongue danced with his, an erotic ballet that mirrored the movements of your bodies. The taste of him mingled with your own desire, intoxicating and addictive.

With a final thrust, you felt Spencer's body tense beneath you, his release imminent. The grip of his fingers on your hips grew tighter as he surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure that washed over him. His moans filled the room, a symphony of ecstasy that reverberated in your ears.

As he climaxed, you continued to move against him, prolonging his pleasure until he couldn't take any more. Wave after wave of intense sensation coursed through his body, leaving him gasping for breath, his limbs limp and sated.

You slowly eased yourself off him, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of your lips. The sight of Spencer lying there, spent, and thoroughly pleasured, made your heart swell with pride and delight. You had taken him to new heights of pleasure, pushed boundaries and explored desires you had only dared to whisper about.

“When you’re feeling better, I think you should reward me for taking such good care of you. Don’t you?”

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mistydeyes · 1 year ago

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AAAAA I HAVE AN IDEA OKAY can u pls do ghost with a veterinarian reader? Bonus points if she’s also a dog trainer that trained task force 141’s K-9 unit for them so all of the dogs love her and she gets scary dog privileges

thank you for requesting anon! loved researching the role of a veterinarian in the forces :) hope you enjoy reading!

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summary: Simon is the definition of providing "scary dog privileges" and he's happy to be dating the Army's veterinarian who has a soft spot for him and dogs.

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!vet/dog trainer!Reader

warnings: swearing, mention of wounds/violence

a/n: omg did you know in pharmacy school we actually learn how to prepare and counsel pet owners! in one of my classes, i learned how to compound a cough syrup for a cat and an analgesic fur cream for a dog :)

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Your pleasant dreams were rudely interrupted by the obnoxious blare of your alarm. Rubbing your tired eyes, you groggily turned over. Despite your boyfriend being on a regimented schedule, you could never relate. “God you need to teach me your ways, Simon,” you said into your pillow, almost as if he was in the room. But as you got out of bed, you faced the disappointment that he was still on deployment. As you dressed for the day and fastened your hair into a bun, you tried to go over your agenda. The morning was filled with vet clinic planning and clinical meetings. You cringed at the thought. It was honestly the worst part of your day. After lunch, you had two patients to follow up with after some shrapnel wounds gained on the field. Just two German Shepherds who were always well obedient for you. You knew they’d be getting some treats today. Finally, your day ended with a combat fitness test. You had perfected this over the years and knew the handlers and canines were up to the challenge.

The morning had gone by slowly. You sipped your coffee as you exchanged ideas with the supply department and pharmacy. They were preparing for a month-long deployment and along with human patients, the pharmacy took care of the working dogs. After three hours of revising, you finally had a full plan and med list. You could feel your phone buzz but as you saw the examination room with a returning patient file on the door, you decided to look at it later. You took your time to examine the dog's coat and checked on the progress of her stitches. “She’s healing perfectly, private,” you smiled at her handler as you gave the canine a treat. She nodded before leading the dog out of the room. Just as you were about to check your phone, you ran into your other patient for the day. Hopefully it isn't something important, you thought to yourself as you gave a similar examination. With the final few sentences, you finished your charting for the day. You sighed contently but soon groaned at the gentle sound of your watch beeping. You closed your office door before running off to your final assignment for the day.

“Alright we’re done with combat PT for the week,” you commanded as your regiment of soldiers and canines relaxed. After two hours of running through the course and showing the basics of taking down an enemy, you felt like they were satisfactory for the time. This was one of your better commands and the dogs had performed beautifully. They would be ready in a matter of weeks, right on schedule. “Be sure to give your companions a treat before you return them home,” you said and the group dispersed. You stretched your tired limbs as you saw them walk back to base. “Just another day in the Veterinary Corps,” you sighed. You loved your job but you realized after a few years that it was more of a balance between training the working animals and their handlers along with the clinical side. You were in the middle of a 15-week-long session to prepare the dogs for the field and the handlers were giving you a headache.

You shielded your eyes from the fluorescent light as you entered the base. “Long day, Captain?” one of your techs asked and you nodded. “Only eight more weeks until I get my evenings back,” you smiled as you walked over to the office space. “I got a question for you,” he continued, smiling at you. “A few of us are going off base and–“ Before he could finish, he stopped in the middle of his sentence. His gaze turned down the hallway as you heard heavy footsteps approach. “Lieutenant Riley,” he said officially and you turned to see Simon approaching. You smiled at him as you heard your tech quickly wish you a goodnight. “You’d think he saw a ghost,” you joked as he walked up to you. Despite his balaclava, his eyes crinkled with a smile. He shrugged and you avoided the urge to reach up and kiss his cheek. “You don’t answer your phone,” he observed and you remembered the text from earlier. “Sorry, long day,” you said sheepishly and he nodded as if you provided a satisfactory response.

“Didn’t realize you were back so soon,” you said and returned his smile. “Me either,” he replied, “found out this morning.” That must have been him this morning. You muttered an apology and he waved a hand passively. “Anyways, I got a surprise for you,” he said, a hint of cheer in his voice. You raised an eyebrow curiously. “You? You have a surprise for me?” you said in disbelief, “Must be a special day.” Simon shook his head at your antics, letting out a chuckle. He motioned for you to follow him and you walked in step. You made casual conversation about your current group in training and the good visits from some of your patients. “You still give them treats after?” he asked, shooting a glance at you. “Still do,” you said cheerfully “not much has changed in 3 months, Simon.” “You spoil them,” he joked back, rubbing a hand along his sore jaw. Must’ve been one hell of a mission, you thought. You continued chatting until you heard the familiar padding of footprints on the base floor.

“Is that who I think it is?” you said excitedly and soon your favorite partner came running towards you. The handler, also a close friend, tried to wrangle him but Riley slipped out of his grasp. In a flash of tan and black fur, Riley rubbed his head against your leg. “Riles! You’ve gotten so big,” you cooed as you brushed through his coat. Despite being named Riley out of his litter, you loved the almost human-like nickname. You petted him affectionately, bending down to greet your longtime friend. “Heel, Riley,” Ghost commanded and Riley sat down obediently. “Oh stop it, Lieutenant,” you responded, hitting Simon’s thigh and encouraging Riley to come back into your embrace. As you showered Riley in love and belly rubs, you heard Simon tell the handler that he would make sure you returned Riley at the end of the night. The private nodded and continued to his own quarters.

“You have enough puppy time?” Simon joked and you shot a look at him. “It’s never enough with Riles over here,” you said happily, continuing to pet him. “Riley did a great job on the field, Price was impressed,” he complimented and you couldn’t help but beam at his words. “Well Price should know I train the best of the best,” you remarked as you looked back down at the wagging dog, “and he is one of the best.” After another fifteen of you playing around and Simon getting in some pets of his own, it was time to bring Riley to the kennel. He looked tired but happy as you walked through the base. You held the unlatched leash in your hand as Riley obediently walked in between you and Simon. “Always such a good boy,” you hummed as both you and Simon brushed his fur.

When you reached the kennel, you quietly opened Riley’s cage to not wake the other animals. He turned around a few times, trying to find the most comfortable position. “If you come by tomorrow, Laswell is considering bringing Riley and Apollo on our next mission,” Simon offered, putting a hand on your shoulder as Riley laid down to rest. You waved to her before you checked all of the dogs were returned and happy. “I’d like that,” you smiled into his touch as you walked out, “Do you know how long you’ll be gone this time?” “Probably 6 weeks max if we get the job done,” he said gruffly, averting his eyes from you. Even after years of familiarity, Simon always hesitated to talk about the job. You nodded and closed the kennel for the evening. It was quiet as you walked back to your quarters.

“I won’t be leaving for another week,” he spoke up, voice echoing in the empty hallway. You turned to him with a smirk on your face. “Oh really?” you questioned, putting a hand on his cheek. His eyes flashed around but you laughed as it was late and the coast was most certainly clear. “I would enjoy some company, would you?” you flirted. Simon grunted but you were prepared to draw this out of him. “Hmm, what was that Lieutenant Riley?” you teased before he coughed out a sheepish “yes.” You teasingly beckoned him to follow you. He let out a dry laugh before following at your heels, just like a loyal companion.

#task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #modern warfare 2 #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty #mw2 imagine #madebyizzie #mw2 #izzie is writing

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seungrem · 8 months ago

Text

Han Jisung x m!reader

‘Close Enough’ ~*+

summary: Before leaving for the day, han asks reader to check a supposed injury that he has. While examining the boy, reader uncovers his true intentions.

( normal smut, top!han x bttm!reader, intern!reader x idol!han, mutual feelings/crush )

a/n: posting this just to hold u guys over until i finish part 2 of chan’s fic :))

emoji code:

🌱 ( oneshot / short fic - around 3k words )

❄️ ( smut, minors DNI, 18+ )

☁️ ( y/n )

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

After an easy day of wrapping up a project, it was now 2 am- meaning that ☁️ could finally go home. A member of the staff, the boy quickly assisted his team in packing up their equipment from the home.

Though the majority of the staff began to leave, ☁️ decided to check in with each member before he left as well. Saying his goodbyes to all but one, the boy approached the last room down the hall. ☁️ slowly drew closer to the door, knocking lightly. While waiting for a response, he repositioned the bag around his shoulder to sit comfortably.

“Han? Are you in here?” ☁️ opened the door, slowly inching into the room. A dim, orange lamp was on, but there was no sign of the idol. He looked around the room to make sure Han wasn’t hiding, which he’d done many times before.

After seeing no sign of him, ☁️ turned around and walked back out of the room. He slowly pulled the door, walking out with his back against the hallway and shutting it lightly.

“What are you doing?” Han asked with a bit of confusion. In the distance, ☁️ turned to see Han put a hand into his grey jeans, though his black shirt was barely visible due to the hallway’s dimness. Han raised an eyebrow and tilted his head.

“Ah, I was looking for you. I wanted to check in with everyone before I left.”

“There is something I need you to check.. but most of the other staff left, and the members are sleeping. I don’t wanna make you stay later.”

“Oh, no, I honestly don’t mind. What is it that you need?” ☁️ watched as Han walked towards him, the idol then grabbing his hand as he walked past. Han placed the boy’s hand on his chest as the two sat on the idol’s bed. As the door slowly closed itself, ☁️ looked at the boy in confusion.

“I hurt myself today while filming. Do you remember when I.. you know..”

☁️ nodded and would’ve laughed if he wasn’t so flustered. That orange hue glistening across the side of Han’s face made it too easy to admire him.

“So.. would you mind getting rid of the knot in my chest?”

☁️ tilted his head in confusion. “I don’t think it’s possible to get a knot in your chest, Han. Are you sure it’s a knot..?”

Using his own hand, Han directed ☁️’s hand around his chest. The boy felt two large bumps, but he was sure it was just Han showing off his pec muscles. Remembering the incident from earlier, through, ☁️ thought about how hard Han had actually fallen.

“I’m sure, when I landed I hit my chest.. Please, it hurts, ☁️.” Han practically whined at this point, and it wasn’t like ☁️ didn’t believe him. He released his hand from Han’s grasp, thinking about the different medical products that he had in his bag. Pulling it off his shoulder, he dug his hand into the pocket to find the analgesic (pain relieving) cream.

“I have topical analgesic in my bag. Let me rub it on so the pain goes away.” ☁️ twisted his torso to face the rest of the bed, taking things out of the bag until he found the cream that he was looking for. ☁️ felt Han’s gaze as he took out a small tube.

“Anal- what?”

“What?” ☁️ stopped what he was doing to look over at Han, visibly baffled. The idol gave the boy next to him a suggestive smirk.

“You want it?”

“Han, what the hell are you talking about?”

“What do you mean?”

“Shut up and lay back.” ☁️ instructed as he took the tube from out of his bag. Han climbed onto the bed, him then taking his shirt off. The boy’s skin was smooth, but his body was much more toned than ☁️ thought. The orange lamp’s soft glow against the room’s dimness made Han’s abs seemingly pop out of his stomach. His pecs were noticeably large, too, with a noticeable bruise on the left muscle.

Shaking his head, ☁️ climbed onto the bed- only an inch or two next to Han. ☁️ sat on his knees as he spread the cream on his hands, and then across Han’s pec. Han couldn’t help but smile as he felt ☁️’s fingertips softly brush against his chest.

“Am I hurting you?” ☁️ asked as he continued to focus on the pec muscle.

“Nah, you’re making me feel really good.” Han said, placing a hand behind his head. After a minute, Han’s skin absorbed the cream and there was nothing else to rub in.

“All good?” ☁️ asked, him looking up from the bruise to the boy’s smiling face.

“I think something else hurts too, ☁️.”

“What hurts, Han?” ☁️ asked, rolling his eyes. He knew he was falling victim to the idol’s charm.

“Could you feel right here?” Han flexed his right arm and used his left hand to point at the muscle. ☁️ huffed, though he placed a leg over Han’s waist with a smile. He leaned over Han’s upper body while feeling the bicep.

“Feels normal, Han..”

“Oh.. How about you feel right there? That seems sore..” Han looked down at where ☁️ sat on top of him.

“Here?” ☁️ placed both of his hands over Han’s abs.

“Nahh, lower.”

☁️ moved his hands down to Han’s jean button. “Here?”

Han smirked and placed both hands behind his head. “Close enough.”

☁️’s body turned hot as he slowly unbuttoned Han’s jeans. With help, ☁️ pulled the boy’s jeans down and yanked them off, him throwing them aside. He took his own pants off, then climbed back on the bed to hover over Han.

“Does it hurt anywhere else?” ☁️ asked, placing a hand on each side of Han’s head. Han placed his hands on Car’s waist as the two locked eyes.

“How about I check you out, hm? I’ll make sure there aren’t any bruises that I need to take care of.” Han tugged at ☁️’s top, helping him take it off to expose more of his skin. Han felt up the boy’s torso carefully as ☁️ placed himself on Han’s waist again. The boy slowly rubbed against the bulge he sat on as Han looked at him expectantly.

“Maybe there’s one thing you can help me with.”

☁️ lifted his ass off of Han, twisting his head and torso to look behind him. He lifted his left ass cheek up with his hand, Han noticing and grinning. The idol licked his lips as he lifted his upper body from the bed. Grabbing both of ☁️’s asscheeks, he placed kisses along the boy’s neck and chest.

“If you bend over,.. then I’d really be able to help you.” Han whispered between kisses. With ☁️ already whimpering at the sensations, he immediately did as suggested. The boy lifted his legs over Han to turn his body around. After, ☁️ softly placed his head on the bed, him then raising his ass in front of Han.

The two now in their underwear, Han lifted his entire body to kneel behind ☁️. The idol pushed the erection in his boxers into ☁️’s ass, brushing against it slowly. He placed a hand on each side of the boy’s hips, vigorously gripping them. Too horny to think, ☁️ couldn’t help but whimper as he pushed his ass into Han’s erection.

“Is that where you want me to relieve your pain? Seems like it hurts pretty bad..” Han slipped his hands down into ☁️’s underwear, fondling his asscheeks.

“Just hurry up.” ☁️ muttered as he reached behind him, pulling his underpants down to his knees. He looked behind him as Han fumbled with a bottle of liquid and small square wrapper. Han rubbed the liquid on his fingers, then across ☁️’s asshole, it dripping down. ☁️ yelled out when Han shoved two of his fingers in directly after, slowly moving them back and forth.

“Ah- You couldn’t warn me?”

“You said to hurry.”

Han’s snarky response caused ☁️ to roll his eyes and rest his head on the bed again. He lightly moaned as Han continued to slowly finger him, though he quickly became impatient.

“Han, just put it in.” He mumbled, though Han grinned at the instruction.

“If you say so.”

Han pulled his fingers out of ☁️’s ass, and quickly yanked his underwear off. ☁️ turned his head to admire Han’s muscular body as it lined up behind him, the boy turning him on even more. ☁️ felt Han put the tip of his dick against his hole. Without warning, Han shoved his entire length into ☁️, causing the boy to cry out in pain. The idol leaned over the boy to cover his mouth. He rested his chest against ☁️’s back, placing his mouth beside the boy’s ear.

“Not so loud, I don’t wanna share that moan with the other members.”

“Why’d you shove it all in?” ☁️ whispered on the verge of tears.

“You asked.”

Han lifted his body off of ☁️’s back, his hands gripping the boy’s hips again. He pulled out slowly, moving his dick in and out so that ☁️ could get used to it. ☁️ continued to moan out as Han’s big dick stretched his hole with each stroke.

“Good?” Han placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Yea,” ☁️ responded, still whimpering.

Han pulled his dick almost all the way out, and paused. Wondering why he stopped, ☁️ felt another hand grab his shoulder. Just as the boy was about to turn around, Han thrusted his dick entirely into ☁️ again, making him yelp. He continuing fucking ☁️ quickly, causing the boy to release loud moans. Han covered his mouth with one of his hands, the sound of ☁️’s ass clapping against his hips making him go feral.

☁️’s legs spread apart as Han continued to thrust into him, with muffled whimpers filling the silence. Han finally began to slow down, him releasing his grasp on ☁️’s face. The two caught their breaths as ☁️ pushed Han’s dick out of him.

Han laid in front of ☁️ on the bed, wrapping an arm around the boy. “Did that help, or do I need to try something else?”

☁️ still catching his breath, he pulled Han’s face into his, the two locking lips. As they sloppily made out, Han lifted the boy up and off the bed. ☁️ wrapped his legs around the idol as they continued to stick their tongues into each other’s mouths.

Han walked to the other end of the bed, the two separating their faces as he placed ☁️ down in between the pillows. The idol climbed on top of him, the two rolling over so that Han now laid with his back on the bed. ☁️ sat on top of Han again, grabbing his dick and placing it in between his asscheeks. Han helped push down ☁️’s thighs as his dick went all the way inside of the boy.

☁️ moaned out loudly as he began riding the boy under him. He placed both of his hands on Han’s chest as he hopped up and down. Han smiled as he squeezed ☁️’s asscheeks in response, directing them up and down as he rode him.

After speeding up and slowing down, ☁️ leaned over to make out with Han. The idol moved his hands from the boy’s ass to his chin, holding his face as the two kissed.

☁️ lifted their faces apart, him then running a hand through Han’s hair. The idol pushed the boy closer to leave hickeys on his neck, him then kissing his collarbone.

As ☁️ leaned over Han, the idol thrusted his waist upward, shoving his big dick back into ☁️. Out of breath and a moaning mess, ☁️ placed his hands on each side of Han’s head and took the dick that Han was shoving inside of him. Han’s waist clapped against ☁️’s ass as he thrusted into him, each one becoming more aggressive and sloppier than the last. Han’s big dick and grin were making ☁️ leak despite him not stroking.

“It’s my turn to give you cream.” Han whispered hazily as he threw ☁️ off of his dick. ☁️ fell on his back, watching as Han climbed back on top of the him. The idol stroked his dick aggressively as he leaned over and shoved his tongue into ☁️’s mouth. ☁️ wrapped an arm around Han’s neck as the idol stroked his big dick, Han’s chest brushing against his. Using his free hand, ☁️ jacked his off too.

After a minute, Han’s muffled breath became whimpers, him throwing his head back as he came all over ☁️’s stomach. The idol stroked over ☁️ some more before collapsing on top of the boy. Han rested his chin in the boy’s shoulder, laying all of his weight on top of ☁️.

“Think that took care of those knots?” ☁️ asked as he stroked Han’s hair. The boy’s legs were spread apart as Han’s twitching dick rested in between them.

“Close enough,” Han muttered, his face pressed into the bedsheets. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

☁️ smiled at the comment and continued to play with the boy’s hair. “Don’t make these little injuries a habit.”

“Why not, don’t you like me, too?” Han questioned, his voice still muffled by the sheets.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Seemed you really liked helping me out with my bruise, either way.”

Han lifted his body off of ☁️, rolling over and dragging the boy with him. ☁️ was now laying on top of the idol, the two locking eyes.

“Maybe next time you can me out instead.”

“I see a bruise on your neck, so.. how about tomorrow?” Han smiled as he placed his hands on ☁️’s ass, fondling his cheeks. ☁️ smiled back bashfully, giving the boy a quick kiss on the forehead.

“Maybe.”

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

a/n: old draft, hope u enjoyed :) since u guys want part 2 of chan’s fic so badly i’ll start working on it ♡

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nethhiri · 2 months ago

Text

Chapter 59: Eye Eye, Cap'n

Warnings: "medical" "procedures", Heat gets something stuck in his ass

Milling about the infirmary, you made a list of things you needed to restock on. If it were an emergency, you could probably make them, however you preferred to keep your devil fruit reserved for your prisoners at the moment. You were starting to understand Wire's preference in clothing. You had no choice but to commandeer his fit since your pants were ruined. There was no question you could have fixed those too, but once you tried on Wire's fishnets, out of curiosity, you didn't want to. Instead, you decided to add his tiny shorts, which were much less tiny on you, yet stretchy enough not to fall down. His mesh bralette-like top had to be adjusted a bit to fit your body. Once everything was on, you couldn't deny that you felt very sexy.

There was a touch of a strut to your step as you paraded around your domain. When your eyes touched the place where Kid had upset you, your step faltered. Failing to push it from your mind, your heartbeat sped, thinking about it had been causing you quite a lot of anxiety. You were still angry, but no longer seething. It was reasonable to assume Kid would be safe in your presence, however not guaranteed. You knew you would have to face it soon. All you needed from him was a sincere apology and reassurance that you were something more than easy sex. You wanted to believe it was just something stupid he had said, and it most likely was, but you needed him to say it for you to fully forgive him and put it behind you. You wished it was easier being romantically entwined with him. With Killer it seemed so easy. Why couldn't it be like that with Kid? Or was it normal with Kid, and Killer was the abnormality? Relationships, if you wanted to call whatever you had with them that, were an enigma to you.

You leaned against the counter and took a short break. You had gotten into your feelings again and needed to clear your head. Tears pricked your eyes at the thought of not being able to forgive Kid. Fuck him for making you soft. You wanted badly to go back to the way things were, but you were not going to compromise your self-worth. When you first stepped on the ship, you were fearless and confident. Lately, you had been feeling like part of that was lost when you were in captivity. You were struggling to regain it. This anxiety of being wanted and accepted was undermining your composure. Maybe that was it. Maybe caring about it was the thing that was undermining your usual confidence. Before, you couldn't have given less of a shit about the Kid Pirates, and now you gave a lot of shits.

A timid knock at the door interrupted your thoughts, fortunately.

"Yeah?"

Heat shuffled in awkwardly.

"Hey, Heat. What's wrong?" You immediately clocked his discomfort.

He seemed to look around to make sure no one else was there.

"It's okay. No one is here." You went to the door to lock it and double checked that the one to Kid's workshop was still locked. "You can tell me." As Heat approached, there was a low humming noise. "What is that noise?"

Heat faced the floor, fidgeting with his hands.

The noise emanated from Heat, specifically his abdomen. Your eyebrows furrowed, as it sounded familiar. When you realized what it was, your eyes went wide and darted to his face. "Heat!? Are you serious?"

"It was an accident. Please don't tell Wire."

"I won't say a word to anyone." You sighed. You didn't have plans to be elbow deep in someone today, but here we were. "There's a few things we can try, but let's start with the easiest."

You had him lean over one of the gurneys and drop his pants while you put gloves on, the long ones. A few other things, like lubricant and a mild analgesic cream, were also grabbed. Hopefully, that was all you needed. If it was further up, you may need to use your fruit. You stood to the side of him.

"Cold hands," you warned as you parted his cheeks enough to put some of the cream on his asshole. Then you lubed up your hand. "I'm gonna need you to relax as much as possible, hun. I'm going to see if I can reach it manually. I may need you to bear down at some points, okay?"

Heat nodded, clearly embarrassed. This is not how he imagined you inside him.

"Tell me if it hurts. Ready?" After another nod, you gently pressed a finger inside him, using the vibrations to guide you. Luckily, the vibrator he used wasn't very far up and he was lubed enough from whatever he had been doing that your finger easily reached the base. Your clean hand rested on Heat's lower back, gently patting him for comfort. "You're doing great. I think I can feel it."

Gently, you retracted your hand enough to add a second finger. You paused as he tensed, waiting for him to relax again before going forward. Holding them in a scissor shape, you grasped the base of the sex toy with your fingers. "Push. Not hard, please." When Heat neared down, the base was pushed more firmly into your grasp and you tugged just enough to make it move. "Keep doing that."

With a soft whimper from Heat and a sloppy, wet noise, the dildo was free. Heat let out a relieved sigh.

"It's a boy!" You said, presenting the lube-covered thing to him, still vibrating. "Good thing it was a skinny one." You turned it off and tossed the thing in the sink. Heat stayed still while you cleaned him up with a warm washcloth. "All done."

Heat pulled up his pants. "Thanks, Doc." His face was red with embarrassment. Half from the incident that had happened and half because he was a little turned on by it. Did he just discover a new kink? Did he like playing doctor? Or maybe he liked seeing you in Wire's clothes.

"What did we learn?"

"Tapered bases are important for a reason."

"If it happens again, I may have to give you a lesson on how to play safely." You winked at him. "Now take your fake dick and scram."

"Sorry, ma'am. Won't happen again." Heat darted from the infirmary, shoving his vibrator in his pocket so no one could see it.

You went back to what you were doing, grateful to have your thoughts filled with wondering how Heat managed to get that stuck up his ass, instead of thinking about real feelings. Mini snorted in a judgy way from her napping spot against the back wall.

"Everyone does it once! Don't bully Heat. That's my job."

She snorted again and let her head rest on the floor.

Your list was fairly long. You had used up a lot of the supplies on yourself, or they had been used on you when you were incapacitated. You weren't even sure when the Victoria would docking at an island. If you were on speaking terms with him, you could ask Kid. You could have asked Wire the previous night but you were otherwise occupied. Killer hadn't been around for a minute and certainly, you were not going to ask Heat while you were knuckles deep in him, not that you had thought about it then.

You tapped your foot, staring at a bare corner in the small room. Something could fit there. Now that you knew you could restore things, as long as they weren't rotten to the point of no return, maybe you could start saving spare parts. Kid could build you a fridge no doubt. Killer may even have an old one to spare. You could harvest the more important parts from prisoners and replace them when one of your own crew was injured. You didn't even need a refrigerator technically. You could put everything in formalin like your eye had been in, though it would take a lot more effort to get it in working order. The fridge would be better. A deep freezer could work as well. You would have to test that to see if freezing affected the parts too much.

A metallic, rolling sound caught your attention. You rolled your eyes watching silver nuts and bolts stream across the floor. Not this again. Still, you felt your face get hot. It was the little things like this that made Kid so charming when he waned to be. Per routine, you knelt on the floor, watching them form words and shapes.

COME HERE.

You rearranged them: WHY?

MISS YOU.

More like he missed your pussy. There wasn't enough material to spell that though. AND?

LO- He started to spell something and then the metal bits quickly scattered and rearranged. WANT 2 SEE U.

WHY? You arranged the pieces in reply.

This time you heard muffled yelling from the other side of the door. "OH FER FUCK SAKE, WOMAN!" It was followed by banging on aforementioned door.

"WHY SHOULD I OPEN IT?" You yelled back.

"RAGHHHH." Kid's loud, exasperated yell was followed by stomping footsteps fading away and then getting closer, but in a different place. Kid flung open the actual door to the infirmary.

Startled by the stomping, the dozing boar in the back of the room suddenly became alert and ready to defend her master. Did she "accidentally" mistake Kid for an enemy? Did she have a grudge against Kid in the first place? Had she always wanted to headbutt Kid full force? Either way, Kid was barely one step in before a flash of brownish-red flew by you. You heard a grunt and a whoosh as the force of Mini's head knocked the air from Kid's chest. You took off running after him, realizing a little too late that Kid was flying over the edge of the ship, and you were following him down. Instinct made you chase him. You were completely focused on seeing if he was okay, and not at all focused on where he was headed. You should have been laughing your ass off at the railing watching that dumbass sink until Killer undoubtedly jumped to save him, but no. You cared too much and now you were destined to sink with him.

You saw the water below explode and froth as Kid's broad body hit it. The water swallowing you whole before you could register what was happening. At least you had taken a full breath before you were enveloped by the icy, cold sea. Kid had nothing. When your hand touched something soft, you grabbed onto it and pulled closer, immediately recognizing it. At the same time, something curled around you in an iron grip. The poor visibility in the water made it impossible to see more than a few feet in front of you, and the salt stung your eyes. Still, your mouth found Kid's and you pushed half the air you had into him. Here you were again, always giving him something of yours, trying to prove yourself. His stupid ass better appreciate you giving him a few more minutes to realize that.

Any second now Killer would be yanking you both out. Any second now. Except you were both still sinking.

He was coming to get you both right? What if no one saw you go in? You clung more tightly to Kid's feathered cape and you felt Kid's other arm wrap around you in a protective embrace.

It felt like forever because of the adrenaline. In reality, it was only a few seconds. Your muscles started to burn from the lack of oxygen. Kid grabbed your arm, positioning it in front of you and turning it so the bottom side of your forearm was up. You stared at him, confused. With his other hand he made your head look back down at your arm and gestured for you to watch. With a finger, he wrote across your skin. You could barely see what he was writing, but you could feel it.

S-O-R-R-Y

A mix of emotions flooded you. The first was relief, followed by longing. An apology was all you wanted. The second was anger. Why did it take a life or death situation to spur him on? Then you were guilty. That probably wasn't true. You had been ignoring him and pushing him away. Maybe he intended to say it earlier and you had been too hard-headed to accept that. Lastly, you were scared. What if he was only saying it because you were near death? Did he know something you didn't? He pulled you back into an embrace, suddenly pushing you away from him after a few long seconds. What was he doing?! You stretched, reaching out for him, and were yanked upward. You tried kicking at whoever was pulling you away, losing some of the air you had left in a flurry of bubbles, but were too weak. You covered your mouth and nose to keep the rest of the air from escaping.

As soon as your head broke the surface of the water, you were coughing and gasping for air. You hadn't even blinked the water from your eyes before you were scanning for anything red in the waves.

"Where's Kid?!"

"Worry about yourself, not your boytoy." Dive's sharp teeth glistened in the sun's rays reflecting off the water as she grinned. She patted your back as a fit of coughing overtook you. "Killer's got him. Don't fret."

With surprising strength, Dive swam with you in tow. Seconds later, there was a disturbance in the water as one blond, albeit under a helmet, and one red head popped up. You held your breath with worry until you heard Kid cough as well. Dive and Killer got you both on deck with the help of the rest of the crew. You and Kid lay flat on your backs trying to catch your breaths. Your hand searched to your side until it found purchase in Kid's. Even though you heard him cough, you were relieved that his hand was warm. At least this time you didn't loss consciousness. You had woken up in this position more times than you cared to remember.

You sat up and Killer helped you to your feet, then thanked Dive before Wire and Heat shooed off the rest of the spectating crew. Heat was still walking funny, but he seemed fine. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Kid glaring in the direction of a very smug-looking pig. You got in the way of his line of sight. You were mad at her, mad wasn't the right word, but would scold her privately. If you did it now, you weren't sure what Kid would do, assuming he was already pissed at the animal. Kid rose from the deck, shaking water from his hair, and walked towards you, meaning to get to Minerva. You backed up, putting yourself between he and Mini. You could forgive the things he did to you, but you would not forgive anything he did to her. Your back touched her as she stood to her full height, fur puffed out, taking a fighting stance against Kid. He similarly made himself look bigger, but you didn't sense malice from him, strangely.

You put a hand out to keep him back. "It was an accident! All your stomping spooked her!"

"YER LUCKY I DON'T BARBECUE YA AND FEED THE CREW TONIGHT FOR THAT STUNT!" He leaned in as if he were gonna growl something to the boar, instead speaking in a hushed normal voice. "That was yer one free shot at me cuz I deserved it." He narrowed his eyes. "I know ya been wantin to do that fer a while, piggy."

Gazing into his amber eyes before they flicked away, you knew that was part of his apology to you, choosing to let the boar's actions go because you loved her and he loved you. He turned to go back to his workshop, with you tailing him.

"Hey! You can't stay in wet clothes! You'll get sick!"

Suddenly your feet weren't touching the ground as Killer plucked you from the deck and followed Kid. "That goes for you, too, little darlin." He grabbed the back of Kid's coat and pulled him below deck with you towards his room.

Killer stripped you both of your wet clothes, though taking a minute to appreciate how good Wire's outfit looked on you. And the two of you were now seated nude at the end of Killer's bed, hands shoved between your legs and heads down with guilt, while he paced back and forth, arms folded over his ample chest. He was deciding which one of you to scold first, not allowing you to put clothes on yet.

"You." He stood at your feet and you reluctantly met his gaze through the holes of his mask. "Are you stupid? Why would you jump in after this big idiot?"

"HEY!" Kid protested.

You covered yourself up to the best of your ability, feeling vulnerable under Killer's gaze. "I didn't mean to. I just..."

"Just what? Hm?" Underlying Killer's stern voice, was a thin layer of exasperation. "I have to worry about him enough. I don't need you adding to it."

"I wasn't thinking! I saw that he got hurt and I went after him!"

"And you didn't see the ocean? The giant blue thing on all sides of us." Killer huffed and carried on. "You come get ME. Understand? What if no one saw you go in? Huh? Then both of you would be lost."

"I..." You snapped. "I only saw Kid okay?! I was scared he was hurt! As much as he irritates the fuck out of me and makes me mad, I still care about him and I can't stop." You saw him grinning stupidly beside you and punched him. "Fuck off. I hate you." You folded your arms tighter and turned away from him so he couldn't see your pink-dusted cheeks, slapping his hand away when he tried to pinch one.

Kid's boisterous laugh filled the room. "HA-HA! YER IN LOVE WITH ME, DUMBASS!"

Killer snapped at him with his fingers. "Hey, numbnuts, look at me." Kid's laugh faded as it was his turn to be scolded. "Stop riling up the pig, first of all. Second of all, stop saying stupid shit. That's what always gets you into trouble. Think for one extra second before you open that big ass mouth of yours."

"FINE." Kid huffed.

"Did you apologize yet?"

You half turned to see what his expression was, seeing him looking at you with a question, and nodded, indicating you accepted his underwater apology.

"Aye."

"Y/N?"

"He did."

"Great." Killer clapped his hands. "Now kiss and make up." Killer turned both of your heads to face each other. "Don't be shy."

You curled your lip and gave Kid a quick peck on the cheek.

"No! Not good enough!" Killer folded his arms. "What's wrong?"

You hesitated. If you were going to get it off your chest, now was the time. You huffed and faced Kid. "I want to know that..." you forced yourself to keep his gaze. "...I'm more than sex."

"Hah?!" Kid had an incredulous expression on his face. "What're ya? Stupid? Course ya are!"

"But you said...as long as I have a pussy-"

Kid put a hand over his face. "Fuck me! That's not what I meant. I was tryin to make ya laugh is all."

"It wasn't funny! I had real fears that...maybe that's all I would be if I couldn't fight."

"Once a Kid Pirate, always a Kid Pirate. We won't abandon ya, even if ya get hurt. Do ya think we would raid a marine base to save ya if ya didn't mean more to us?" Kid continued. "If all I wanted was easy sex, I could grab any random whore from an island."

You hummed in agreement. He had a point.

"And I did. But we made her our whore." Kid laughed again and you frowned.

"I really don't like you." You rolled your eyes.

"Come on now, doll." Kid wrapped his arms around you and smushed his face into your neck. "What would I do without my Rotten? Right, Kil?"

You tried to squirm out of Kid's overly affectionate hug. You could tell he was laying it on thick to annoy you, smug that he knew you could never really stay mad at him.

Killer sat on the opposite side of you and took one of your hands in his. "Kid isn't good with words. That just how he's always been. Sometimes he says the wrong thing or he doesn't realize what he says can be harsh, but trust me when I say he cares about you. If you're on this ship and a part of the crew, he cares about you."

"Even if ya ever decide ya don't want ta fuck us, yer still a Kid Pirate. I'll still take care of ya." Kid pressed a kiss to your neck. "But I will be sad if ya decide ya don't wanna be my bunny anymore."

"Good?" Killer got up and folded his arms again. "Now kiss." He made a motion of pushing your heads together.

You relented, facing Kid and planting your lips on his. He ran his hands lovingly over your cheeks and into your hair. You pulled back and rested your forehead on his. "I'm sorry for being stubborn. And thank you for not being an asshole to Mini."

"I've never been an asshole in my life. Tell her, Killer."

You rolled your eyes again and sighed, feeling a lot better than you had.

"Next time, because there will be a next time, we're going to talk about it together instead of you two being nightmares for the entire ship. Deal? Heat is gonna fucking quit if you keep dragging him in."

You and Kid nodded, regretfully.

"Or else you'll get seastone manacled together until you can be nice to each other."

You and Kid glanced at each other, neither exactly opposing that idea.

Killer shook his head and put his hand to his helmet. "Get dry clothes on and get back to work."

You got up and squeezed Killer's midsection. "Sorry for making you worry."

"Aye, sorry."

You were squished as Kid came from behind you to also hug Killer. Your head was being crushed from all sides by four huge manboobs. A much more preferable way to die than drowning. Shockingly, Kid didn't even get a boner. Wondering what was taking so long, you looked up to see Kid planting red lipstick marks all over Killer's helmet. You had no right to be annoyed, happy to see your boys being affectionate with each other. You could stay here a few minutes longer.

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

Kid dragged you to his workshop. He was dying to show you something, and that was why he had been pestering you earlier. He wouldn't tell you what it was. Killer was following you quietly. Even he didn't know what it was, though he had a pretty good guess. Kid made you sit while he rummaged around through his things. You weren't sure why he always had to be rummaging. Why wasn't anything organized? This was his space. It wasn't like anyone but him was making a mess.

While you waited, there was a crumpled piece of clothing on the corner of Kid's bench. It was peppered with smeared eyeliner and Kid's red lipstick. A sweat rag? You picked it up, fabric unfolding and revealing black kanji. This is-! You unfolded it in your lap. It was tattered and stained but it was your coat. Your fingers traced over the marks that were clearly left by Kid.

"Was gonna give it back. Meant ta clean it first." Kid was scratching the back of his head, a reddish hue developing on his cheeks.

"You saved it?" You had assumed it was lost when you were taken.

"And this." Kid held your gunblade out in his hands. "Hope ya don't mind, I tweaked it again."

He did more than that. It was shiner that it had ever been, and it was adorned with intricate snake designs that hadn't been there previously. He had taken your criticism from the last time and applied it. Against his professional judgement, he kept it weighted how you liked. You looked from it to your coat. Your stomach clenched with guilt. If you had known he had don't all of this, you wouldn't have questioned his feelings for you. You brought your coat to your face, to cover the emotions that ran through it. Tears threatened to make themselves known.

"Don't ya start being a crybaby on me. Ya won't be able to see the other thing I made ya." Kid pulled your hands away from your face.

You looked into the palm he had held out. It was a small marble-like object. You didn't understand. With the wires attached to it, it sort of resembled... "This is-!" You stood up abruptly and took it from Kid's palm. Inspecting it further, there was no doubt that it was a replica of your eye. "Kid!"

"Wanna try it?" Kid offered, cheeks radiating with blush. "Just... Don't be upset. It may not work initially. I haven't gotten to test it or-"

"Shut up! Of course it will work! You made it!" You looked at it and gave it back to him. "How do we do it?"

Kid pointed to an open book on his desk, one of the medical reference books that had been in the infirmary. You noticed it was gone, but thought Pomp, UK, and Reck had taken it again to look at the naked anatomical pictures. He explained where the wires should connect and that he could get them there, you would just have to use your fruit to make that possible. You did it with on eye. This wasn't that different. This one had been gone much longer though, and your brain had grown accustomed to not having it, so the neural pathways may be altered. You studied the diagrams for a few minutes and talked it over with Kid. Then, you sat back down and tilted your head back to rest on the bench top.

"Killer, do you mind holding my head still? I don't know what this will be like."

Killer put both hands on either side of your head and you held the eyelids open for Kid to place the mechanical eye into. It sat in the socket well enough, but now the connections had to be made. You and Kid had to work in tandem to put everything in place. With the flesh eye, you could sort of control the things around it. This was metal, therefore Kid needed to direct it. You probably could have, but he had far better control over it. A jolt went through your body as one of the wires strayed from the correct path.

"Fuck!" Kid flinched, trying to stay concentrated.

"It's okay. Keep going." You held onto his arm to support him.

Killer watched, mesmerized by the dancing purple electricity melding with the soft yellow-tinged glow, each devil fruit power working as one. He held your head still, periodically feeling twitches and seeing your face wince.

Kid pulled his hand away as a spark jumped to his metal finger. "Can ya see?"

The eye made a few jerky, mechanical movements, not quite in synch with your body. "No." You tried to hid the disappointment in your voice.

"Hold on." Kid made some minor adjustments, looking back at the textbook for confirmation. "Try again."

This time the movement was much smoother, though still no vision. "Still no." You sighed. Maybe the problem was on your end. "Let me try."

The best way to figure out the issue was to compare it to the working side. You couldn't see into your own brain but you could feel what was there, in a weird way. Everything was connected properly, the issue was that the path of the wires had missed a stop. Both eyes were being used by the same half of the brain. Kid didn't realize that the optic nerve was meant to cross to the other side. The right eye went to the left side and the left eye went to the right, give or take a few nerve fibers. Very carefully, you brought the necessary connections through the chiasm, nerves intertwining with the mechanical fibers. The small metal pistons that acted as muscles worked fine, they needed time to attune to your control so they would move more fluidly, but you could deal with that.

You cracked the smallest opening in your eyelids, afraid that it wouldn't work, and saw a sliver of light through both. BOTH! They opened the rest of the way and you sat bolt upright, taking in everything around you, everything that seemed so much brighter and vibrant. Your eyes darted around the room. How will the ocean look? The ocean! I have to see the ocean! You were caught by strong hands before you could run out the door.

"Whoa! Can you see? Everything ok?" Killer looked down at you, holding your shoulders tight.

You pulled him down by the helmet, too fast, almost knocking yourself out, but you had to see. You had to see his blue eyes. How much of the blue had you been missing? You brought your new eye up to one of his eye holes, trying to get a glimpse. Even in the shade of his helmet, you could see glimmering blue. You released him and he did the same. You looked around the room frenetically for Kid, running to him and yanking him by the shirt until his face was at your level. You held his face between your hands looking at every freckle in new detail. And his eyes! They weren't only amber, but orange and golden, too. There was nuance that you had missed before.

"Holy shit." You breathed. You clapped Kid's head between your hands, slapping his cheeks. "I can see, you baby back bastard! You son of a bitch!" You shook his head in your grip and hugged it. "You fucking did it!" Remembering that you wanted to see the ocean, you practically threw him away from you and zipped out the workshop door.

Killer allowed himself to chuckle. "Baby back bastard? That's new."

Kid's chest was puffed out and he had his signature grin plastered on his face, framed by two small, red handprints from where you slapped him. He was virtually levitating with how much pride was radiating from him. "Of course I fuckin did it. I'm me!"

They followed you out, seeing you bent over the railing with your eyes as close to the water as possible without falling in again. Killer grabbed your waistband, sighing. He didn't want to spoil your good time by reprimanding you.

"It's so fucking blue! Have you seen this shit?!" Suddenly, numbers popped into your vision, scaring you so badly that you jumped back. "What the fuck!?" You swatted at the air where they appeared to be.

"Ya didn't give me time to explain all the features," Kid said, preventing you from falling backwards.

"Features?"

He laughed. "Ya didn't think I was gonna give ya some dumbass plain eyeball, did ya?" Kid handed you your gunblade. "Here. Point this at somethin random."

You did as he said, pointing it at the deck some distance away from you. The numbers popped back into your vision, changing depending on where your gun was pointed. When you lingered, crosshairs also flickered into view. "No fucking way."

"That's not all. Look here." Kid pointed to the pulse point in his wrist.

You holstered your weapon and the display vanished from your sight. Staring at his wrist, a new set of numbers came into view, numbers you recognized as heart rate. You flung yourself at Kid, throwing both arms around him. You released one to reach for Killer, who gladly accepted your hand. At the moment, you had no words. Kid gave you something that you hadn't had in years. You took it back, the thing about always being the one to give. Kid gave, too. It was simply a different kind of giving. You pulled your face out of his cleavage, this time not trying to hold back tears.

"Thank you, Kid! Thank you. Thank you! It's so beautiful. Everything is so beautiful!"

"Wait until you look in a mirror," Killer added. He didn't mean for it to be cheesy. He only noticed how you were so excited to see everything, you forgot about yourself.

"Now that's an idea!" You ran into the infirmary bathroom where the nearest mirror happened to be.

Killer gazed at you adoringly as you saw your own face. Finally, you could learn to appreciate what they had noticed a long time ago.

It had been some time since you had seen yourself this clearly. Part of you thought you would be disgusted by the scarring on your face, but that wasn't so. It reminded you of how much it took to get to this point. You traced the semi-circle of a scar that went through your old right eye, then the outline of where the acid had melted your skin. It held all of your anguish, but your triumphs as well. Where some might see a disfigurement, there was only strength. You stared at one eye and then the next. They were exactly alike. How Kid managed to get it to match that well, you didn't know. Maybe you did. He always seemed to be watching you, though maybe it wasn't watching so much as it was looking. Kid's eyes followed you all the time. Had he had memorized the details? But why would he?

You ran back to Kid, stopping briefly to plant a kiss on Killer, who was kind enough to bend down for you. You did a running jump at Kid, which he, thankfully, was prepared for, lest you both fall int the ocean again. Kid caught you as flew at him. "Ha-ha! You stupid fuck! You love me back!"

Tag list: @bbnbhm @nocturnalrorobin @wgwingguns

#Ta-dah! Fluff this time!#2 eyes bitch!#one piece #marooned #eustass kid #massacre soldier killer #x reader #eustass kid x reader #massacre soldier killer x reader #kid x reader x killer

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blurredcolour · 2 years ago

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If You'll Be My Bodyguard | Part Five

If You'll Be My Bodyguard, I Can Be Your Long Lost Pal Masterlist

Summary: A newly single, and rather intoxicated, Austin lets slip his real thoughts about you, his darling Betty.

Pairing: Austin Butler x Female Bodyguard Reader

Warnings: Language, Residual Reader Injury, Alcohol Consumption, More Parties, More Awards Ceremonies, More Screenings, Michelle Yeoh Is an Amazing Human, Threats of Violence, Ongoing Stalker/Obsession Issues, Mature/Explicit Themes [described oral – f receiving, described face sitting, overheard masturbation – m performing, imagined manual stimulation – f receiving] – 18+ Only.

Credit: Greg Williams

Word Count: 4147

As the cabin light dimmed on the aircraft, somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, you tried to shift subtly as the ache awakened in the muscles of your back. The flight attendants had just cleared away dinner and the passengers around you in first class were reclining their seats to settle in for some sleep while the plane continued its progress towards London. You glanced across the aisle between yourself and Austin, glad to see him sinking lower as he, too was preparing for rest.

He seemed a little less hollow, his face somewhat less gaunt, his eyes less swollen from a constant stream of tears. It had only been three days, but he appeared to have a better handle on his emotions, which you knew would be important for him to survive BAFTA weekend followed immediately by a screening in New York and another in Los Angeles. The close of the voting period for the Academy Awards, March 7, seemed years away at this point.

Only slightly closer than the end of this flight, if your back was going to continue to put up this much protest. Trey had applied a generous amount of topical analgesic before you’d left the house, which you’d also followed up with some oral painkillers. A glance at your watch revealed you still had thirty minutes before you could take another dose. Gritting your teeth, you pressed the recline button on your seat to lay it flat before turning to stretch out on your stomach and relieve the pressure on the throbbing points on your back.

Laying down with your face at the opening of your divider so you could keep an eye on Austin, you slid in one headphone, keeping the ear closest to him free, and put on something soothing to try and distract yourself until it you could take more medication.

“You keep frowning like that and you’ll get wrinkles.” Austin’s soft whisper, accompanied by tips of his fingers gently trying to ease the furrow in your brow, had your eyes flashing open to see him kneeling in front of you.

You snorted once and shook your head. “Wrinkles are the least of my worries…” You whispered back.

“You’re in pain aren’t you…” He frowned and you nodded slowly in reply.

“My next dose is soon; I’ll be ok then.”

“You have a cream, don’t you? Can I help?” He asked earnestly.

“I…” You hesitated, at war with yourself over the propriety of having your protectee rubbing cream into your back versus the relief you knew it would bring, before nodding slowly.

He leaned in closer to whisper directly into your ear. “I’ll meet you in the bathroom.”

The way his lips brush against the shell of your ear, and his warm breath cascaded over your skin, raised goosebumps and shivers in their wake – you knew immediately you had made the wrong decision. But he was already halfway down the aisle, sliding into the bathroom on the right side of the plane. You counted to thirty before pulling the cream from your carry-on and counted to another thirty before following, trying to look nonchalant about the clandestine rendezvous.

Opening the door slowly, he smiled warmly as your eyes met and you slid in, quickly shutting and locking the door behind you.

“I’m really sorry to ask this of you I…”

“Shh, Betty you’re in pain because of me.” His long fingers gently plucked the cream from your grasp, and he gestured with the other hand for you to turn around.

You were pleased that you’d opted for something comfortable in-flight and reached backed to pull the back of your workout shirt up and over your head, leaving your front covered. You heard him sigh softly as the now bluish marks were revealed to his eyes.

“It’s a good thing, they’re making their way through the rainbow…” You looked to him in the mirror and his eyes met yours skeptically before he opened the small tube of cream and gently worked a dollop onto the bruise on your shoulder.

You swallowed thickly at the heat of his touch on your skin, and the serious look on his face reflected in the mirror of the small bathroom. The hand holding your gathered shirt to your chest clenched into a fist as you watched his tongue dart out to wet his lips parted in concentration and you turned your head away from the mirror, the image of him accompanied by the electric feel of him touching you just too much to process as your heart hammered in your ears. He was thorough, ensuring that each of your bruises were well covered before he put the cap back on the cream and turned to wash his hands. You could not help but wonder if the sensation in his fingertips was at all affected.

As you struggled a little to redress yourself whilst also keeping your chest covered, you felt him grasp the bottom hem of your shirt to help you ease the fabric back onto your back without undoing all his hard work.

“Thank you…” You nodded softly and he squeezed your good shoulder before stepping back to let you return to your seat first.

You glanced back at him over your shoulder, smiling though you didn’t quite have the courage to meet his eyes lest he see the fact that you could still feel the ghost of his fingers on your skin, and calmly made your way back to your seat. You lay down, sliding in your one headphone, and waited quietly for him to resume his seat across the aisle from you. The brush of his fingertips across your cheek as he passed sent a shiver through your body and you swallowed thickly as you watched him settle into his seat.

After it was finally time for your next set of painkillers, you were able to doze lightly. You’d debated the need to be alert on flights with the entire team, and Austin, but you despite their arguments to the contrary, you still could not allow yourself to sleep deeply. Still felt the need to lay eyes on him every so often. You’d seen Red Eye, after all. He did not need a pen to the trachea on BAFTA weekend.

The lights slowly flickered on inside the cabin as only an hour remained in the flight and you watched Austin take his bag to the washroom to change before doing to same yourself, re-emerging in your typical dress and blazer, just in case the paparazzi were waiting at the airport.

Refreshingly, the arrivals longue was remarkably quiet this time, and you were greeted by only the domestic security team and escorted to the hotel suite. You were practically dragging your feet by the time you made it inside and turned to Austin to check if you could catch a real nap before the parties for the nominees that night.

“Betty, go to bed.” He smirked before you could even open your mouth. “The lads will look after me, we’ve got five hours before wardrobe comes.”

You somehow managed a nod and shuffled into your bedroom, stripping your clothes, before falling into the sultry embrace of 1200 thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets. The alarm you’d somehow managed to set before succumbing to the nothingness of sleep was a rude and bewildering experience. You cast your eyes about the unfamiliar, dimly lit room, barely able to comprehend where you were before you heard Austin laughing warmly through the wall and it all came rushing back. You hauled yourself from the bed and dug out your outfit for the evening, using the small handheld steamer from the closet to release the wrinkles of the long-haul flight, before showering and dressing.

You emerged looking quite human, particularly in comparison to your earlier appearance, to a sitting room filled with people focused on perfecting Austin’s look for the evening. And perfect he did look in the charcoal grey pinstripe suit with a barely buttoned-up shirt the colour of a stormy sea. The way he glowed after undergoing the same travel conditions as you was utterly unfair but you chose not to dwell on it.

“There you are, darling Betty. Feeling better?” He grinned cheekily as a leggy brunette leaned in perhaps a little closer than necessary to perfect the curl of his hair.

“Yes, Mr. Butler, thank you very much for your concern.” You smiled professionally but your voice was tight – wound around the spike of jealousy jammed into the hollow of your throat. You coughed a little, trying to clear away whatever brought that unnecessary emotion on, and grabbed one of the sandwiches on the provided tray to fuel up for what promised to be a long evening.

Eventually, the cluster of attractive stylists were satisfied that the innately gorgeous man was presentable and filed out of the suite before the pair of you headed down to the waiting car.

“Did you actually get a good amount of sleep?” He asked quietly and you nodded with a soft smile.

“I did, yes. Thank you.” You replied earnestly, now that you were…mostly…alone.

He smiled at you warmly as he slid into the car and you took a slow breath before sliding in beside him, wondering why your heart was having trouble settling into its normal rhythm.

The cocktails at Claridge’s and the reception at the National Gallery we fairly standard events, with free-flowing alcohol and a crowd of gorgeous people all eager to congratulate Austin. The private club at 5 Hertford Street was rather unlike anything you had ever seen and teeming with people from wall the wall. Whether it was the sheer amount of humanity, or the time change, you found the entire setting exhausting. Or perhaps it was the mariachi band playing at the front door. Regardless, you dug deep and straightened your protesting back, following Austin into the throng of revellers and down the stairs to a dimly lit room where he was seated for dinner. You found an out-of-the-way place to stand with the other ‘staff’ in attendance and allowed yourself glances around the moody, Parisian atmosphere of the basement nightclub.

The most striking feature was the bust of a kneeling giraffe in the crook on the staircase that had brought you down here, and you barely managed to restrain the urge to shake your head. Truly, this assignment was leading you to the most unexpected of places. After the last course was served, people began to mill about, exploring the various sitting and drawing rooms on the upper floors. You followed Austin quietly, acutely aware of the number of photographers freely milling about in the crowd and doing your utmost to remain out of frame of their shots.

It was becoming increasingly apparent that, in addition to a roaring fire in nearly every room, the club had also turned up the heat to ensure the ladies in their evening wear were comfortable. You, in your blazer, found yourself unbearably hot and stepped into a hallway to slip off your jacket for just a brief moment of respite. You knew the cap sleeves of your dress ensured your back was full covered but immediately felt self-conscious about your arms.

It was at that moment when Michelle Yeoh and her partner Jean Todt were making their way down the hall. You pressed back against the wall, mindful of the framed pictures, but trying to occupy as little space as possible. However, instead of continuing on her way, as most people did around you, she stopped and turned, fixing you with a warm smile.

“You work with Mr. Butler, don’t you…” She asked warmly and you nodded quickly, introducing yourself properly.

“A pleasure to meet you, formally. I’ve been meaning to tell you; your strength and your beauty are not mutually exclusive. That they exist together is a miracle. Take up that space, you beautiful girl.” She beamed at you, squeezing your arm before continuing on her way.

Staring after her, struck utterly speechless, the laughter and chatter of the party blended into a dull hum as your mouth went dry – you wished you could say you at least thanked her for being such a positive influence in your life. In reality, your mouth had opened and closed several times like a slowly dying fish gasping for air until a shoulder bumped into you as someone made their way down the hall, jarring you back into the present.

You quickly glanced back into the room where you had left Austin and swore under your breath to see him vanished. Very professional of you, to get so distracted that you lost your protectee. You did a quick but calm perimeter of the room before heading through the doorway on the opposite end of it – at least somewhat confident he hadn’t passed you in the hallway you had been standing in. You were somewhat impressed by how much the club had emptied in the last thirty minutes or so, only running into a few groups of people before you reached the top of the stairs going down to the basement nightclub.

You paused a moment, glancing at the other hallways that branched from the top landing, trying to think like a tipsy, blonde, tanned, Californian, Adonis…but then you heard his voice, made husky from the glasses of whisky he’d been enjoying but still unmistakable to your ears, drifting up from below. You stepped down a few stairs before freezing at the words that he was speaking, barely audible above the thrum of the music below.

“Oh Betty…” followed by a sigh of a your real name, “the most incredible woman and she’s just so impossibly pretty…and I know I just ended a relationship, way too early for anything serious but I really…really just want her to crush my head like a grape with her muscular thighs while she sits on my face…”

You slapped one hand over your mouth to try and smother the gasp that fell from your numb lips while the other pressed ruthlessly against your chest to try and keep your heart seated beneath your ribs lest it leap right out of your body. The skin of your face and neck felt like it was on fire and you pressed your back against the wall of the staircase, still out of sight of the floor below, as you tried to remind yourself to breathe.

And yet he still kept talking…musing about how sweet you must taste between your thighs, and you were quite certain you might just expire in that stairwell of London’s most exclusive private club and simply add to its mystery and allure. You heard the floorboards creak to your right and snapped your eyes open to see one of the ubiquitous photo-journalists approaching and stiffened, protective instincts kicking in. Personal conundrum aside, you could not let a member of the media hear him go on like this…and going on he still was. You pushed yourself off the wall and let your steps fall heavily on the stairs as you hurried down to find that he’d been extoling on the supposed texture of your cunt to that fucking giraffe.

“Betty!” His face lit up as you came into view, and you raised both eyebrows as he was seeming even more jovial than the last time you’d seen him. “I made a friend!” He reached up to playfully scritch the giraffe’s chin just as the flash went off on the camera.

“I can see that, well done.” You nodded patiently, sliding your jacket back on, feeling the need for a little armor after his words had essentially lain you bare. “What are your thoughts on calling it a night?”

“That, Betty…That is not a bad idea.” He emphasized each word with a shake of his finger, and you bit the inside of your cheek to prevent a grin, not wanting to encourage him one bit. No matter how endearing a drunk he was.

He posed for one last shot before you carefully corralled him up the stairs and out to the waiting car. He lay his head against the window and immediately began dozing as the driver took you back to the hotel, making you shake your head fondly…and yet you were remained most keenly aware of the words you had overheard him speaking to his new ‘friend.’

Mercifully, he awoke when the car pulled up at the hotel and made his way up to the suite under his own steam. You wished one another a good night, even though it was most certainly morning even in London, and retired to your respective rooms.

When you awoke in the silent dark just an hour later, you were disoriented and confused. You stayed very still, holding your breath and listening so intently that your ears began to ring faintly, determined to figure out what had woken you up. The rich moan that carried through the wall made you jump, seeming impossibly loud in your state of intense focus. It was quickly followed by a heavy sigh and rhythmic breathing. You jerked away from the wall, shifting to sit at the end of the bed, but your imagination was already betraying you with vivid pictures of those long fingers wrapped around what you just knew must be a generous cock.

A ragged groan carried through the wall and had you shooting to your feet, trying to shake the images from your head violently. You quickly dug through your bag for a pair of ear plugs and slid them in, immediately relaxing as the ambient sound around you faded instantly. You slid back into the bed, trying to settle into the sheets, but the damage had already been done. Your traitorous body wanted only to focus on speculating what it would feel like to have those wicked, elegant fingers caress your quickly dampening folds, only to be licked clean by his pretty pink tongue.

With a soft growl beneath your breath, you threw the duvet from your overheated body and yanked on your workout clothes, determined to channel this insistent energy into something much less problematic. You stepped out of your room and nodded to one of the locally hired guys, muttering something about jet lag before hurrying down to the hotel gym to run yourself into the ground. If you were too tired to be turned on, the problem would go away, right?

You were drenched in sweat, your legs aching fiercely, by the time your body surrendered the last spark of desire that first groan had awoken within you. The sun was also most definitely above the horizon, you noted, as you made you way back to the suite after showering in the gym facilities. Thankfully, you could snag a few hours of rest before red carpet prep began. When you slid out of bed later that afternoon, you winced at the quiver in your legs. You’d, perhaps, overdone it.

Massaging in some of that handy cream, you forced your complaining body through the process of dressing and getting ready, joining a similar scene to yesterday. Austin sat, glowing, the calm eye in a hurricane of preparatory activity around him.

“Hope you got some sleep, Betty, we’re not going to be back here until after breakfast tomorrow.” He teased gleefully and you laughed wryly, somehow managing not to reply honestly.

“Did my best, Mr. Butler.” You found some food and waited patiently again, smiling politely as his guest for the evening, Polly Bennett, arrived.

You rode up front with the driver as Austin and Polly chatted away happily in the back seat, collecting their personal items before they made their way down the red carpet. While Austin went on the win the BAFTA that night, your ability to act as though nothing was irrevocably changed between you two should have secured you several prestigious nominations, if not wins, in your own right. Through the nigh-on twelve hours of BAFTA festivities, including the numerous after-parties where an increasingly drunken Austin insisted on hand-feeding you the rich and rarified foods the attendees were served, you maintained a calm yet friendly professionalism.

Things became somewhat easier after the flight to New York as Ari met the pair of you at the airport. With your firearm and your partner, you felt much more grounded and almost as though you could leave the events of the party and the hotel suite back in London. Almost.

Mournfully, your mind continued to subject you to uninvited images – seductive flashes of naked flesh and faces contorted in ecstasy. Similar to intrusive thoughts, the more you tried not to think them, the more often your brain would conjure them up and trot them out before your consciousness.

Unlike most intrusive thoughts, however, these were not entirely unwanted. Inconvenient, yes. Unprofessional, absolutely. But there was no denying that they were born of a desire that had been solidified by Austin’s overhead words and deeds, and that made it even more difficult to stop them from plaguing you…because did you honestly want them to go away?

As you walked down the hotel hallway that Wednesday, it was quiet, save the exchange of conversation between Kate and Austin as they followed you to another set of interviews booked for the day.

“So, your dad arrives tomorrow?” She asked warmly.

“Yeah, he’s driving it all in one day, says he can make it in seven hours or something…” Austin chuckled fondly.

Pulling out the key card you’d accepted from the front desk clerk, you slid it through the card reader in the door handle, waiting for the small light to turn green before turning the knob to open the door. The first hint that something wasn’t quite right was the smell – putrid and sweet. It made you pause over the threshold and reach for the light switch, wanting to see better before you stepped fully into the room.

Coming around the corner, your eyes were immediately drawn to the vase of flowers with a bowl of fruit at the base on a small table under the window. As you moved closer, you realized that the flowers were dry and wilted, heads pointed towards the ground in surrender to death, and the fruit was in varying states of rot and decay – dark brown spots mixed with clouds of mold and gaping, juicy wounds crawling with maggots. There was an envelope addressed to Austin in suspiciously familiar handwriting slid between the vase and the bowl, with a knife plunged into the warped flesh of an orange to really drive home the point.

“I need a burger.” You said quickly and turned, locking your arm through Austin’s, hauling him from the room, right past Kate’s bewildered face.

The phrase was one that was so benign and born of a joke based on the In-N-Out Burger chain, that the door had almost fully closed behind you before she gasped and hurried out to follow. It had been weeks since the team had chosen the pass phrase for a quick exit, and you did not begrudge her the processing time whatsoever. Austin was silent and rigid at your side, matching you stride for stride as you retrieved your phone from your pocket, calling Ari.

“I need a burger. Back door please.” You left the call active but put the phone in your pocket again, wanting both hands free as you guided the group out the back stairwell to where Ari was just pulling up, ever watchful for threats. You were thankful that you’d taken the time to study the interior of the hotel and map the quickest, quietest exit.

The author of Austin’s threatening letters had been here – could still be here. And you wanted to give her the least amount of opportunity to enjoy her handy work.

Only once Austin was safely in the car did you end the call with Ari, climbing in yourself. As he pulled out to head back home, you heard Kate soothing Austin behind you as you called the detective to inform them that there was another letter and potential weapon left at a hotel room. As your call ended, you heard Kate begin one with the interviewers who were to have met with Austin in that room, your eyes automatically flicking up to the rear-view mirror only to be met with two very solemn and heartbroken blue eyes.

You frowned deeply as he looked crushed and exhausted from being constantly hunted, and guilt flooded you from head to toe as here you were allowing your imagination free rein to objectify the man while he was so obviously suffering.

“I’m sorry, Austin…” You murmured softly and he nodded gently, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips before he sank back into his seat. If only he really understood just what you were apologizing for.

Read Part Six

If You'll Be My Bodyguard, I Can Be Your Long Lost Pal Masterlist

Tag List: @littlewhiterose, @austinsvlrslut, @emrysdreams, @slowsweetlove, @xstrengthxinxtragedyx, @shelbygeek, @kingdomforapony, @artlover8992, @eliseinmemphis, @haydensith, @breadsquash, @chimchimjiminie16, @qxiva, @lilsiz

#austin butler x reader #austin butler #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x fem!reader #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #blurredcolour

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