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fairyniceyeah · 3 months ago

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💎 I love my team, I love my crew (Part 1/7)

Title from Super (SEVENTEEN)

Summary: While filming on a small sailing boat a few SVT members start feeling sick - the very contagious norovirus is the most likely reason.

CW: emeto, diarrhea in the context of illness

Sickies: Woozi/Jihoon + Joshua + Minghao + S.Coups/Seungcheol

Caretakers: Wonwoo + Seungkwan + Vernon

💎🐈‍⬛

“Wonwoo-hyung”, a voice called behind the rapper. Wonwoo stopped in his tracks and turned around.

It had been Seungkwan calling after him, entering the ship’s hallway from the cabin he shared with Woozi, Minghao and Dino. For the next Going Seventeen Episodes they had decided to do a three part sailing experience. Well, it was less sailing and more fun and water-based games in the middle of the open sea. As far as Wonwoo knew, Seungcheol, Jeonghan and Dino were actually swimming at that very moment and Jun and Hoshi had said something about a table tennis match. He himself would be happy to just sit on a recliner and read a book. It was where he actually had been headed before Seungkwan had called him back.

Facing the young vocalist Wonwoo couldn’t help but notice the way Seungkwan was biting his lip in worry and was anxiously playing with the hem of his shirt. He had his legs crossed and leaned against the hall, which struck Wonwoo as very odd.

“What’s wrong, Kwan-ah?”, Wonwoo asked, immediately on alert, striding towards his dongsaeng in three big steps, “are you alright?”

“I’m fine, hyung. Have you seen the hyungs?”, Seungkwan asked, looking down at his flip-flops.

“Uhm, well, I think Cheol-hyung and Hannie-hyung are swimming. I haven’t seen Shua-hyung in some time now”, Wonwoo replied kindly, “is there anything I can help you with?”

“Oh, what the hell”, Seengkwan mumbled, then said louder, “it’s Woozi-hyung. He locked himself in the bathroom. I think he is seasick again.”

That at least explained on two levels why Seungkwan was standing this weirdly and was so fidgety. Wonwoo already felt worried for Jihoon - now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen the vocalist since breakfast and it was after lunch. It wasn’t unusual for some members to skip meals, especially with the heat, but if he truly wasn’t well…

“Why don’t you go use the bathroom in my room?”, Wonwoo suggested, “I’ll go check on Jihoonie.”

“Alright, thanks”, Seungkwan said and hurried towards the room Wonwoo shared with Joshua, Minghao and Seokmin.

With a sigh Wonwoo entered the room Seungkwan had come from. Nobody was inside but he saw the occupied symbol on the bathroom door. He passed the two bunk beds, noticing how Jihoon’s bed sheets were pushed into a ball at the foot of the bed, half-way to falling off. It seemed like the bed’s occupant had been in a rush to leave.

Wonwoo walked over to the bathroom door and rapped against it. He didn’t hear anything from inside and was about to knock again when he received his reply: “Seungkwan, I told you to go away.”

“It’s Wonwoo”, Wonwoo stated, “Kwan-ah is worried about you. Frankly, so am I. Is everything alright?”

Instead of answering, Jihoon opened the door’s lock. Before the producer could decide differently again, Wonwoo pushed the door open, careful as not to accidentally hit Jihoon. The bathrooms on the ship were tiny, but Jihoon had managed to curl himself into such a small ball that Wonwoo had no trouble opening the door.

While he had expected it, Wonwoo was still taken aback by how awful Jihoon looked. The producer was slumped over the toilet bowl, one arm resting on it and cushioning his head. His other arm was wrapped around his stomach. Long strands of his blond hair were falling into his white face. He looked like he had gone through the wringer.

Jihoon turned around to look at Wonwoo and croaked: “Welcome to the party. The motion-sickness medicine does an awful job though.”

“I’d rather not be invited”, Wonwoo replied, happy that Jihoon seemed at least still able to make jokes. “Did you take other meds than unusual? Normally you feel okay when you take them, don’t you?”

Careful not to step on Jihoon or injure himself on a shelf or the door, Wonwoo sat down next to his younger chingu. Jihoon just shrugged and laid his head back down on his arm. It had been some time since he had been so awfully seasick.

“Have you thrown up?”, Wonwoo asked, daring to put a hand on Jihoon’s back. He supposed that if Jihoon hadn’t wanted comfort he wouldn’t have opened the door for him in the first place. And indeed, Jihoon even leaned a bit into the touch.

“Just, uhm, the sheets, only a mouthful, really”, Jihoon stuttered, flushing bright red, “I woke up feeling so nauseous and well, I uh, threw up a bit. Ever since …” He stopped and swallowed harshly. Speaking seemed to make him feel more sick. “... I’ve been in here. I’m so nauseous, Wonwoo.”

“I’m sorry you’re having such a bad time. What can I do for you?” Wonwoo rubbed his hand up and down Jihoon’s back, hoping it would comfort him even more than the simple hand on his back.

“Can you make it go away?”, Jihoon asked, an exasperated undertone to his light words.

“No, sorry. All out of magic potions”, Wonwoo joked, “I can go ask the staff for more or others meds if you want?”

“I … uh, could you just stay here?”, Jihoon questioned quietly. He seemed embarrassed by the question, despite it being a very legit request in Wonwoo’s opinion. Not wanting to make the producer feel more uncomfortable, the rapper quickly reassured: “Don’t worry, I’ll stay. Would it be okay if I texted staff for meds still?”

Jihoon nodded weakly. “Don’t know if I can take them though. I’m starting to feel really sick again.”

“That’s okay. I got you”, Wonwoo promised and finished up his text message to a manager. “Do you want me to braid your hair out of your face? You might be more comfortable that way?”

“If you would?”, Jihoon whispered.

Wonwoo just reached over to gather the long, sweaty hair and started to braid.

💎🍊

Seungkwan rushed into Wonwoo’s cabin only to realize that the blinds were drawn and that Joshua was asleep on one bed. As quietly as his bursting bladder allowed, he rushed into the bathroom to relieve himself.

He exited the bathroom just in time to get scared senseless when the door to the cabin was flung open, admitting Mingyu and Seokmin who were seemingly lightly arguing over something. Seungkwan frantically tried to calm his racing heart and shush them, hoping that by some miracle Joshua was not awoken by the abrupt entrance.

“Kwan-ah, what are you doing in here?”, Seokmin chirped, confused.

Seungkwan shushed them again, waving his arms into Joshua’s direction, but it was too late. Their hyung opened his eyes, blinking up at them and frowning.

“Wha’s go’n on?”, he slurred, clearly still half-asleep.

“Great, now you woke Shua-hyung”, Mingyu exclaimed, exasperated.

“It’s not only my fault. You’re just annoyed that you lost at table tennis”, Seokmin countered.

“Well, you’re a terrible referee”, Mingyu said.

“Maybe you wanna take this bickering outside?”, Seungkwan suggested, still holding his hands to point at Joshua, who was now slowly sitting up.

“Alright, fine”, Mingyu and Seokmin agreed. The last thing Seungkwan heard before they shut the door again was Seokmin mumbling: “It’s not my fault that you were alone after…”

“Sorry, Shua-hyung”, Seungkwan apologized, dropping his arms and walking over to sit next to the older vocalist on the bed.

“It’s fine”, Joshua mumbled and leaned his head on Seungkwan’s shoulder. “I probably should get up. I didn’t even mean to fall asleep - I just wanted to lay down a bit. My head hurts.”

Internally Seungkwan groaned. It was promising to be a really bad day if Joshua’s headache turned into a migraine, Seokmin and Mingyu kept bickering and Woozi was seasick. Seungkwan just hoped that Wonwoo got further than him with the stubborn producer who firmly believed that anybody younger than him was a baby and not to be involved in his issues.

“Do you want some painkillers?”, Seungkwan asked.

“Please. They are in my bag”, Joshua replied, nodding his head into the direction of the shelf at the headend of his bed and immediately wincing. “Actually, I think I will go back to sleep after I’ve taken them after all. I really don’t feel good.”

Seungkwan nodded and quickly managed to obtain the mild painkillers that Joshua took when a migraine was on its way. Joshua quickly swallowed them with a sip of water and sunk under his blankets.

💎🐢

Vernon watched the table tennis match with interest. He himself had not wanted to play, enjoying the freetime while listening to music with one headphone on his ear, the other off to know how the game went. Mingyu and Minghao were playing against Hoshi and Jun with Seokmin as the referee. None of them had any real talent, Minghao the best of them but only due to his amazing reflexes. It was fun.

Below them in the water, Seungcheol, Jeonghan and Dino were swimming and snorkeling in the open sea together with a few staff members. Vernon didn’t know why anybody would willingly do that but he hoped they had more fun than Mingyu who was slowly getting annoyed over the table tennis game.

“Hao, I thought you were supposed to be good”, Mingyu groaned as Minghao missed another ball, causing cheering by Jun and Hoshi.

Minghao muttered a reply that Vernon didn’t quite catch, then pushed himself away from the table and left. Hoshi, Jun and Seokmin seemed as confused as Vernon felt.

“He said it’s too hot to play”, Mingyu said, also a bit stunned, “uh, do we just go on?”

“Jo, Vernon, you wanna join instead?”, Seokmin yelled as if Vernon was on the other side of the boat, not just a few meters away.

“Nah”, Vernon replied, shaking his head and pulling off his headphones. He had a bad feeling about Minghao - the older would never leave in the middle of a game. Despite his regular meditations he was competitive. “I’m going to get myself something to drink. Have fun!”

The staff had stocked the living room below deck with a tiny bar - a few different sports drinks and some snacks to choose from. Vernon grabbed a Sprite and took a few sips before heading further inside in search of the missing Chinese member. He wasn’t sure what exactly was wrong, it wasn’t like Minghao to be sulky, especially since Mingyu’s words had been just in good fun and he was easy to read.

The young rapper didn’t even have to go check the cabin he knew Minghao shared with Woozi, Dino and Seungkwan. When he left the living room he nearly collided with Minghao exiting the bathroom across the hall.

For a second Vernon was confused - if Minghao had just needed to go to the bathroom they could have stopped the game for him. They may have made a bit of fun of him yet ultimately some stuff was more important than games. But then he noticed the way Minghao had his arms wrapped around his stomach and was doubled over. His complexion was ashen gray and he was covered in sweat.

“Hao-hyung?”, Vernon asked and reached out to the unsteady older member. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

“Nonie?”, Minghao asked and lifted his head. His eyes were a bit glazy and it was a bad sign that he only seemed to have noticed Vernon when he spoke. Normally Minghao was so aware of his surroundings. “I … uh… I don’t feel well.”

For a second Vernon contemplated getting Jun or any other of the hyungs, he himself not often in the role of the caretaker of a sick member but Minghao didn’t look good and Vernon didn’t feel right to leave him alone at the moment.

“Let’s sit down, okay?”, he suggested instead, hoping it was the right thing. Minghao looked really bad and so shaky.

The older nodded and let Vernon guide him to a chair in the living room. He sank down with a wince, still holding his stomach tightly.

“Can you try to drink something?”, Vernon asked. Maybe Minghao was just a bit sunburned, a bit overheated, and a cold, sugary drink would cure it all. The rapper held out his own bottle of Sprite, feeling a lot out of his depth just standing there watching the other look so unwell.

“I don’t really want to”, Minghao mumbled, “my stomach …”

“Have you thrown up?”, Vernon asked panically. Uh oh, this was not going as he had wanted. Maybe he should have gotten a hyung after all. He really didn’t like vomit.

But Minghao shook his head, flushing and stammered out: “I … I was feeling really hot and my stomach was feeling really upset. I, uh …”

The last part was muttered and spoken so fast that Vernon wasn’t able to catch it. “Come again?”

“I had diarrhea”, Minghao mumbled, barely louder than before but not as fast.

Vernon tried to school the grimace creeping up on his face into a neutral expression. There was no reason to make Minghao feel more humiliated than he already was. At least he wasn’t throwing up.

“Do you feel better now?”, he decided to ask instead.

“Barely”, the dancer replied, curling into himself more again, “my stomach is still cramping badly. Actually, I think, I need to …” Minghao’s eyes went wide and he pushed past Vernon to hobble to the bathroom again.

Fuck.

💎😇

“I think I’m going to go back to the boat”, Seungcheol said through chattering teeth, “it’s so cold.”

“What are you talking about, hyung? It’s so hot”, Dino exclaimed, swimming up to where Seungcheol was holding onto a unicorn floatie and Jeonghan was floating on his back. The youngest had been happy to swim around the sea, pulling his eldest hyungs with him. Since it was a calm day there were barely any waves in their way and the maknae had been fascinated by the coral reef they had been able to see below them. The ship was anchored in a shallow area in the middle of the sea that day. So they had taken the opportunity to swim in the open sea when offered by the staff. It was fun but also exhausting.

Jeonghan moved from his position on his back to just paddle lazily by the other two. He had to agree with Dino, it truly was warm even in the water. But then again Seungcheol had always easily felt cold. And again, it was exhausting.

“I’m going to join you”, Jeonghan said smoothly and pushed the floatie closer to the ladder at the side of the boat that would take them back up to the deck. “I’m beat.”

“Don’t leave me here”, Dino pouted and quickly followed his hyungs.

Seungcheol couldn’t seem to get out of the water fast enough. He moved the floatie to a staff member and started climbing up the ladder at a quick pace. It was lucky that a slight breeze of wind had pushed the floatie more to Jeonghan than to the staff member. Instead of climbing directly behind Seungcheol, Jeonghan was a bit away, trying to catch the floatie, when the leader lost his grip on the metal bars and fell back into the water with a splash and a surprised yell that abruptly stopped.

“Cheollie?”, Jeonghan called, feeling adrenaline course through his veins. It was useless, really, since the leader was still submerged when he spoke. Luckily, in the few strong strokes, exhaustion forgotten, Jeonghan needed to get to him, Seungcheol managed to resurface.

He was coughing badly and clutched at Jeonghan tightly to keep afloat. Dino had swam over too, concerned as well, and together they held Seungcheol up until he managed to stop coughing and spitting out salt water.

“Are you alright?”, Jeonghan asked, “what happened? Did you slip?”

“Lost my grip”, the rapper replied a bit breathlessly. “Can we go up? I’m really cold. I just wanna get warm.”

They managed to climb up the ladder without any incidents this time. Seungcheol was trembling, from shock or cold or both, but Jeonghan stayed directly behind him. Once on deck, Seungcheol collapsed backwards onto the warm wood, sighing in relief.

“Are you feeling alright, Seungcheol?”, the main manager, who had likely seen the incident happen from above, asked and came over carrying three towels.

Jeonghan was surprised by his best friend’s honesty as he answered: “I’ve been better. I’m so cold and my chest hurts from coughing. My stomach feels a bit upset too, I think I swallowed a bit too much of the salt water.”

“Take it easy for the rest of the day and let us know if …”, the manager said but trailed off as a loud voice called: “Hyungs? Hannie-hyung?”

The voice was followed by Vernon’s body as he slid around a corner to reach them. “Oh, I’m glad you’re out of the water”, he said, “Minghao-hyung isn’t feeling well.”

“What’s wrong exactly?”, Seungcheol asked immediately and Jeonghan forgot about Seungcheol to focus on the gasping Vernon. He must have run all across the boat to reach them and he looked frazzled in a way that seemed quite worrisome. What the hell had happened while they were in the water?

“Well, he, uh, he said he had diarrhea earlier and now he locked himself in the bathroom but it sounded like he was throwing up too”, Vernon replied with a frown. Before they had a chance to react the manager’s phone beeped and he read the message that had plopped up.

“Uh oh”, the manager exclaimed and stared at his phone. “Damn. Wonwoo-yah just texted me, asking for meds because Jihoonie is really seasick and threw up.”

“This isn’t good”, Dino said what they all thought. Jeonghan felt a bit of panic start up - he had made sure to get himself and Jihoon the seasickness medication and he himself felt fine. If Minghao was sick too then it was much more likely that Jihoon wasn’t seasick but sick sick. And if two members were sick on this tiny boat… he really hoped it was just food poisoning but he knew they had all eaten the same food and then everybody would be ill by now. A gastrointestinal sickness was much more likely.

Jeonghan quickly explained his train of thought out loud and the others nodded in agreement, looking as worried as Jeonghan felt.

“What do we do?”, Vernon asked. Jeonghan met the eyes of Seungcheol and the manager for a moment, before nodding.

“I’ll go look for Jun and go check on Minghao with him”, Jeonghan decided, “manager-hyung and Cheollie will go check on Jihoon-ah. Dino-yah, Vernonie, please don’t worry too much. Find the others but only tell Joshua at first, okay? We don’t need worry and panic now.”

ILMTILMC Part II

Masterlist links: Fairy's Full Masterlist Fairy's Masterlist - SEVENTEEN

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phanfictioncatalogue · 13 days ago

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True Love Masterlist

15 years (ao3) - That_cool_weirdo

Summary: dan and phil make a very special post on the 19th october 2024

[or, what if they actually did hard launch instead of posting that jokey video]

2019 (ao3) - outphan

Summary: Dan and Phil's tenth anniversary.

blow a kiss, fire a gun (ao3) - The General Phanchild (orphan_account)

Summary: "If I don't improve... he'll absolutely obliterate me. And there's nothing I can do to stop him." Secret Agent “Gold,” or Dan Howell, is less than thrilled when he is forced to team up with new recruit “Amethyst,” Phil Lester. Phil is a former trainee; clumsy and overly apologetic, while Dan’s six years of experience have left him skilled and stealthy, yet completely emotionless. Throughout their mission to bring a mysterious super-villain to justice while travelling the city of Tokyo, Phil tries to come to terms with his illogical fear of Dan, while realising what Dan's true intentions with him are.

Bound by Love (ao3) - thesassykels66

Summary: The day itself is already cliche, filled with flowers, sweets, and the "idea" of love. But, for Dan and Phil, the day was to be celebrated and be purely about their love.

That is if Phil could be able to calm his nerves before walking down the aisle, and be pronounced as Dan's husband.

Do I Wanna Know? (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Phil sat on the outskirts of the town.

How had it gotten this bad?

He remembered the first of the outbreaks, the news coverage and the social media freak-outs, and for once, Phil had to admit that they were right

Forever Ain't Half the Time... (ao3) - QueenKatelynTheAristocrat

Summary: pure nostalgic fluff dedicated to and inspired by Dan and Phil's ten year anniversary, and everything they've meant to each other and to all of us for those ten years.

Glasses (ao3) - prinanalogicality

Summary: Phil wears his glasses when he is stressed, and Dan tries to make him feel better. Or, the one where Dan tries to be sweet and kiss Phil's forehead but he ends up fogging his glasses.

hand in hand (ao3) - prettyryden

Summary: reminiscing is better then forgetting

How Would You Feel (If I Told You I Loved You?) (ao3) - wekingsandprettythings (orphan_account)

Summary: Dan discovered in 2009 that Phil shares his most sincere thoughts and secrets when he's close to falling asleep. He makes excuses about why he stays up later than Phil, but it's just so he can ask him what their future together looks like.

I will be there (ao3) - Kim_Aurora_135

Summary: I will always be there for you

Meant to be, we might be alright now (ao3) - lesbosz

Summary: Dan thinks about the cramped tour bus bunks and traveling the world again with his soulmate of 15 years.

One of kind (ao3) - winstonlives

Summary: Phil needs to do some last minute Christmas shopping, and Dan decides to join him. This one simple shopping excursion changes everything.

Personal Getaway (ao3) - developerdaniel

Summary: aka the fic where Phil takes Dan on a mini vacation to a personal villa in Italy where Phil treats Dan like the prince he is and romance & smut ensue on this personal getaway from a busy life.

someday (ao3) - lionkid (orphan_account)

Summary: It's Summer 2010. Dan and Phil are in Jamaica and muse about their future together.

The Little Things (ao3) - developerdaniel

Summary: aka the fic where Phil points out all the things he loves about Dan, all the way up to the things they do together in bed especially on the night of their anniversary

True Love (ao3) - softsocks (orphan_account)

Summary: Dan falls in love with Phil, slowly, though he doesn't know it. Phil's always been in love with Dan, it just takes him a bit to realise. Both, are in love.

Waking Up Naked (ao3) - phandoe

Summary: Dan wakes up next to Phil.

Wishful Thinking (ao3) - eternallyexistential

Summary: Just some fluffy drabble really but it's kind of based off the way they look at each other

You Deserve It (ao3) - developerdaniel

Summary: aka the fic where dan falls into a fit of depression that lasts longer than usual and phil goes above and beyond to make dan feel better and more like himself, ending in phil treating dan to an amazing sexual high

Your Shadow (ao3) - SpacedOut

Summary: Dan and Phil are caught on webcam kissing during the radio show one night. Based on the song Shadow but Sam Tsui

#phanfictioncatalogue #phan #phanfic #phanfiction #dan and phil #masterlists #true love #true love masterlist

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anotherkindofmindpod · 2 years ago

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where does lewisohn say john wasn’t a heroin addict?

Hello Anon, Lewisohn made the comments on a Dutch podcast called Fab4Cast.

After helpfully reminding us how “creative” and “incredible” John was, Lewisohn argues that John’s heroin usage is actually a moral/artistic strength, indicative of John’s commitment to experimentation and a natural outgrowth of his innate curiosity.

You can hear the whole program here. But here’s a transcript: --- 1:20:18 F4: We talked about drugs, George’s uh bust, but John was also heavily into drugs at this point, he had a heroin addiction. Do you think his drug use, what kind of effect did it have on his art and his relationship with the other guys.

ML: Heroin was a drug that the Beatles were always aware of and had steered clear of. George Harrison bunking off school one day in Liverpool about 59, filling time because he could only go home at home time, but had to fill the hours he wasn’t at school, went into a cinema and saw the Man with the Golden Arm and knew he would never have heroin so they were always aware that heroin was this really evil drug. They didn’t marijuana and hashish they didn’t really consider drugs. Drugs were what we would now call opioids, LSD, heroin, but you know, having a smoke …

So when they saw John begin to get into heroin they were disappointed and a bit concerned, but John Lennon was always on his own journey. And they knew, of course, that John Lennon was one of those guys in life who wants to know everything, try everything, find out what it’s like by trying it and then you’ll know whether you wanna do it again or not.

Now you call John Lennon a heroin addict; I don’t believe he was ever addicted. I don’t see the signs of an addict there. And in fact I’m not so sure how long, how many times he took it. He ended up writing the song that suggests the most that he was addicted, Cold Turkey. Incredible song. And so revealing because no one knew he was taking heroin and he writes a heroin addiction withdrawal song and puts it out as a record. I don’t know whether at that point he’d actually gone through that experience. He probably had to know it, but that suggests a stronger addiction than there was any indication of.

F4: Think he had a relapse after cold turkey into heroin again with Yoko.

ML: Well, the suggestion is, George said that Yoko got John into heroin, and they didn’t like her for that. But I don’t think she was an addict, either. There was no sign that either of them was, they functioned to such a high degree. I mean, John is so creative, okay, he’s not writing many songs at the start of ’69, but you look at John Lennon’s performance, most of January he’s fine, Savile Row he seems completely clean. He’s not strung out on heroin the whole month like I’ve read, he’s not at all. The bed in, he’s so switched on, he’s definitely not doing any heroin in Amsterdam. Maybe very late at night when the room finally and finally the two of them are alone after another extraordinary day of the room being full of people, they might have a smoke there is an allusion in one of the films to thanks for the grass, which is newlyweds have a joint, make love and go to sleep.

[...]

1:24:10 I think It’s very easy to be frightened obviously of the word heroin and its potential and to assume that John was strung out the whole time; it’s very evident that he was not. He was far too creative or lucid, and doesn’t exhibit any signs of being strung out. ---

I don’t know what Lewisohn is basing his theories upon, since Yoko is on record openly admitting that she introduced John to heroin, and also her struggles with heroin addiction (on and off throughout the 60s, 70s and into the 80s) are well-documented. I have no idea what Lewisohn means when he says he “doesn’t see the signs” of heroin addiction (testimony from John, Yoko and other eyewitnesses about their respective heroin addictions is not a sufficient sign? What!?). He seems to be arguing that John couldn’t have been a heroin addict because Lewisohn has seen footage of him in 1969 where he is not high (!?). Also he keeps returning to the assertion that “creative” people cannot have heroin problems (or vice verse) which is... a take.

#AKOM #Mark Lewisohn #heroin #extra special thanks to Deirdre for this transcript

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spectaclespencer · 3 years ago

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P.H. // Part 3; Need To Know

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N; Chapter 3!! Yay! I will not lie I got kind of lazy and burnt out when I finally got to the smut scene, and for that I am sorry. I’ll make it up to you guys with a future chapter.

Summary; Reader can’t get her mind off of Spencer, which causes distractions at work. Until one day when he catches on.

Category; Smut (Minors DNI!!!)

Content Warnings; Swearing, Kissing, Mentions of masturbation, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Oral (Male receiving), Drinking, Mentions of being shot, Kinda Sub!Spencer, Virgin!Spencer (but not by the end of it)

Word Count; 7.2k

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Previous | Next

‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

Baby, show me what it's like (like)

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

Spencer Reid. The object of my attraction, the man I fell harder for with every stolen glance I could manage to throw his way. I was obsessed, and that infatuation only grew stronger every day that I saw him at work.

When we went out to bars after cases we ended up in an inevitable game of Never Have I Ever like a bunch of high school kids. With Emily and Derek in the group it almost always turned sexual. It started with innocent things such as; Never have I ever kicked down a door -- to which Derek drinks. There were some targeted jabs, I got Spencer a few times when I brought up an activity I was certain he had done -- just to keep him involved.

However he never drank past that. He never took a sip when Emily made a sexual innuendo, or when she brought up one night stands, number of partners, most bizarre location to engage in intercourse. Nothing of the sort got him to break. I figured he was a private guy, never one to boast about his sexual experiences.

It was frustrating, to say the least. It got to the point where I couldn’t think about anyone but him. I couldn’t engage in any sexual activity without my mind shifting to him, the way he might slip his fingers in and out of me, or how skilled he was with his mouth instead of the person I dragged home. No other person could even begin to compare to the remedy I concocted in my mind. I didn’t have any information to base my fantasies on, either.

I had it bad. So bad, that at one point I spilled hot coffee all over myself in the breakroom over the littlest interaction.

Spencer came in just after me, mumbling a small hello before reaching to grab a mug for himself. In the process of doing so his shirt rode up, exposing a small expanse of his lower stomach that had me sputtering as I clumsily missed my cup and instead poured the coffee all over the counter. It ran down and soaked through my pants; yet it wasn’t nearly as hot as the way I felt on the inside.

I couldn’t help but wonder the noises he’d make if I were to suck dark purple marks across that plain of skin...or if anyone ever had before.

The small burn was a fine price to pay for my inappropriate thoughts.

Him being the sweet guy that he is, offered to help me clean up. This proposal ended up with him taking paper towels and patting down my thighs -- not realizing just how suggestive the action looked to me.

“Sorry,” He whispered, looking up at my face from his position below me. He was kneeling on one knee, with a hand planted firmly on the outside of my thigh. His voice was soft yet raspy, and oh how I let my mind wander.

“Not your fault,” I said quickly, and borderline ran out the door before he could protest or add anything on.

I headed straight to the bathroom to wash my face, try and stop the effect he had on me from becoming too physical.

If I got that worked up over a small piece of skin showing, nothing could have prepared me for the first night we shared a hotel room.

I was in shambles all night, ever since the moment Hotch handed me a room card and explained we needed to double up.

Emily usually roomed with JJ, Hotch and Rossi got their own, and Derek refuses to bunk with Spencer -- if he could avoid it. Much to my luck, this time he did because Garcia was needed for this case, meaning she and Derek would be sharing.

Leaving me with Spencer.

I stood there helpless, eyes burning a hole into the place that Hotch was previously standing. I was panicking on the inside, my body going into fight or flight mode as I went through scenarios in my head.

I was 99% sure I would be embarrassing myself tonight.

“Hey,” Spencer said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I jumped and shrieked a little bit, and slapped a hand over my heart. “Oh my god, Reid. You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he laughed. “Sorry I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay.”

He nodded, eventually realizing that he was still indeed touching my shoulder. He dropped his arm, only to bring his hand back up to rub over his chin.

My eyes darted down to it, watching at the way his veins stood out. It wasn’t the first time I admired them, there were moments when he was going over maps with two fingers where I wondered what they would feel like on my-

“____?”

“What?” I asked, a little too loud for the setting.

“Did you hear me?”

“No, sorry.”

“I said we should go inside,” he laughed softly, trying to sooth the tension.

I agreed, stepping past him to start walking to our room. I opened the door with trembling hands, wondering just how hard the following nights at the hotel would be.

“I’m gonna go see Emily and JJ. Ask if they wanna go to the bar,” I said quickly, throwing my bag down just inside the door.

“Oh. Okay. Have fun! Don’t stay out too late. You should get a full night’s sleep.”

“I won’t be long. Don’t wait up!” I called, not looking back to see him before half jogging out of the room.

-----

“I cannot go back in there.”

“Oh, because of your little crush,” Emily laughed, much too loud for the early hours of the morning.

Clearly Spencer’s advice about coming back early didn’t plant itself in my head.

“Yes, because of that,” I confirmed. I was staring down at my drink, wallowing in self pity. It was too awkward to even step foot in there, I’m sure just by the sight of him I’d explode.

“What is it about him that gets you hot and heavy?” JJ teased. “No shame, just curious.”

I fake laughed, ignoring her question.

Everything he did was so intoxicating. Even the most mundane things got my blood pumping hard. Each time he let a small gasp through his lips or when he would whisper to himself, a shockwave went through me, igniting a fire deep inside that was near impossible to put out.

But he was so oblivious. He hadn’t a single idea of the effect he had on me. And that was the most frustrating part.

The first time I noticed my extreme attraction to him was shortly after I joined the team, it was only the third or fourth case I’d had with them. Spencer and I walked to a coffee shop to grab some for everyone, and on the way back he was infodumping.

About what, I can’t remember, for I was too fixated on the way his hands wrapped around his cup as he talked. He’d wave it around, and in doing so his fingers would trace little patterns onto the outside of it. I didn't mean to stare, I just got distracted.

I started noticing more little things after that.

Like the way he licked his lips while deep in thought, his mind consuming him to the point where he looked so concentrated and determined. It was hot, to put it simply. I wanted nothing more for him to be licking my lips, to feel him take such care with my body.

He had always been attractive in my eyes, the young boy was nothing but pretty. Even when his hair was shorter and he gelled it back, pairing the look with his glasses -- that he unfortunately wore less often nowadays.

It was nearly painful to be around him all day every day. My head would constantly be spinning with anxiety, only causing more and more headaches to present themselves. It was like a punishment, one I certainly deserved for the tasteful thoughts I had during work hours.

My crush went from an innocent little thing, to full fledged fascination.

‘I just been fantasizin' (size)

And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

Avoiding him as much as I could seemed like a decent plan at the time. If I kept my interactions low, I could distract myself with other things, and not focus on the way his lips pursed as I conversed with him. I raced up more time staring at his mouth rather than completing actual work by my six month stay at the BAU.

“I’m so fucked,” I nodded, coming to a bit of peace with my downfall.

“Well, you could be. If you told him how you feel,” JJ encouraged.

“No way in hell,” I protested, shooting my head up to make eye contact with her.

“____, there is a very, very high chance he feels the same. And if he doesn’t -- which he does -- he’s too sweet to let that impact your friendship.”

“We hardly even have a friendship. Whenever he tries to talk to me I end up running away. He probably thinks I hate him or something. He probably wants nothing to do with me.”

No objection from Emily or JJ there.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Emily asked, changing the pace of the conversation.

“He never speaks to me again. I die of embarrassment.”

“You’re both adults, ____.”

“We are 27!” I shook my head, exasperated. “I hardly even feel like one sometimes.”

“27, exactly. I’m sure by now Reid has gained some experience with talking to women. You’ll be fine.”

“I have absolutely no way of knowing how things will go.”

“Just give him little tests,” JJ suggested. “Like touch him. On the shoulders, compliment him more, really go up to him and make a move. That way if he doesn’t feel the same you can play it off as being platonic.”

I groaned and rested my head on the table dramatically. “You both kinda suck at advice. What am I supposed to do? Waltz into our shared room and confess my love for him? Ask him desperately to dick me down?”

Even though I definitely wanted to.

They laughed at that, saying they were going to bed and wished me luck. Emily advised I should try and ‘get some’ from somebody else, and maybe that would take my mind off of things.

After stalling some more I eventually made my way back to the hotel room, hoping that Spencer was already asleep so I wouldn’t have to face him. But once again, luck wasn’t in my favour.

“Hi,” he spoke softly from his bed.

“Why are you still awake?” I asked, trying my best to stifle a yawn. I threw my sweater down on my bed, before grabbing my go-bag and retrieving my pyjamas from it. “It’s almost one in the morning.”

“I wanted to make sure you got back okay.”

“I told you not to wait up. Naughty boy,” I joked, finally turning my attention fully over to him.

Which could've been a mistake, based on the way you saw it.

He was dressed in flannel pants and a black t-shirt, along with his hair tied up that I’d failed to notice earlier. I froze at the sight, seeing the way his cheeks were dusted a slight red, and lips pink as ever.

His hair was tied up, and I almost dropped dead at the sight. I’d never seen it before. Sure, he sometimes wore an elastic band on his wrist during the work days but never have I seen him actually use one.

“I’m gonna shower and then head to bed,” I said in an effort to keep my voice steady.

He didn’t respond, only turning his head back to the book that was in his hand.

Thankfully when I returned he was asleep, meaning I didn’t have to see him before bed.

The next day was torturous. I couldn’t get the image of him out of my head. The view of him so relaxed on his bed was ethereal, the soft glow of the lamp hand illuminated his skin in all the right places. Did he pull his hair back often? Did he casually sit at home with it up? How did he look in different angles or positions? Are there other things he wears or does that I haven’t seen?

The image was just so domestic that I couldn't stop thinking about it even if I wanted to.

I was afraid to fall asleep, in fear that my dream may turn adventurous. Quitting my job and moving to a new city seems more preferable than having a sex dream about your coworker while they were in the room.

I was hyper aware of every move he made, always keeping tabs on him in the back of my mind so we wouldn’t accidentally run into each other.

Apparently when I was paying attention on how not to see him, I failed to notice how he had filled out recently. He wore looser pants in the past, ones that didn’t allow much shape to show through.

The next day at the precinct I was in for a surprise though, one that was sure to make me fall to my knees.

And I would have, if it wasn’t for the fact I was already seated in a chair.

Spencer walked in clad in pants that were far too tight to be appropriate for work. Or maybe I was overreacting.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered under my breath, soaking in his appearance of the day.

It was hot outside, so he decided not to wear his usual vest and tie combo, choosing instead just a white pattern button up and grey tie.

I heard Emily snicker beside me, which earned her a light kick in the calf to shut her up. She got up then, winking at me dramatically before leaving the room to presumably go check in with Derek.

“Hey ____, can you come here for a sec?”

I got up without a word, and walked over to the other side of the room where he was standing at the map hung up.

He went off about the unsub’s possible comfort zone -- things that I’d need him to repeat later because I wasn’t fully listening,

I stayed leaning against the table, just two feet behind him which gave me a perfect view of just how tight those pants really were. They hugged his hips deliciously, I wanted nothing more than to rip them off in that moment. I nodded along dumbly, changing my sight from his ass to his back, to his toned arms that were shown off from him rolling up his sleeves.

It was a fair sight, I don’t really think I could be blamed for staring.

A few weeks after that he got a haircut. His longer curls were gone -- yet not forgotten -- and were replaced with a mop of messy waves that framed his face perfectly.

It was like a new blow to my stomach every time I got used to the change.

“New haircut?” I asked the obvious on the first day back from a long weekend.

“Yeah...thought I should change it up,” Spencer replied, picking up his coffee mug to make himself a cup.

I nodded, the room settling in a short silence.

“Do you not like it?”

“No!” I exclaimed, Spencer furrowing his brows in response. “I mean, yes. I do like it. Sorry.”

“Oh, okay,” he laughed. “Thank you.”

“You could pull off any hairstyle, trust me,” I said, before walking back to my desk.

People that we met seemed to feel the same, because he got stopped more often at bars and at shops that were needed to visit. People would give him their numbers, leaving him a blushing mess. It got obnoxious, to the point where I was at my breaking point. My shoulders were always slumped, and my forehead creased with jealousy.

I stayed closer to him when the team went out, in an effort to get other girls to stop making moves on him.

They hadn’t noticed his beauty before, why should they get the privilege to advance on him now?

It was selfish, really. It may have been good for his self-confidence, but not so good for my own feelings.

I made sure to compliment him more often, telling him I liked his sweater vests, and ‘oh my Doctor Reid, is that a new tie?’ It was a win-win really, for both of us. I was building up my comfort level with him, and he knew that I did not, in fact, despise him.

When Spencer got shot on a case a few weeks later, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to show him that I care about him.

It was an easy job, since the bullet only semi-grazed his shoulder blade. Only needed deep cleaning once a night, for a few weeks so it wouldn’t get infected.

“Fuck,” he breathed with a groan, one that sent shivers throughout my veins.

“Sorry,” I answered quickly, keeping my gaze on the task at hand and not on his face that was just so close to mine.

Here I was in Spencer’s apartment, in his bathroom, helping him clean off his wound.

“I’m sorry but you need to stop moving, it’s just making things worse,” I explained.

“It hurts!”

“I’m sure it does! But I can’t do an effective job in cleaning it if you keep thrashing around like that.”

I saw him pout, and lower his head. The gears in his brain were turning, trying to come up with a possible solution.

“You’re going to need to hold me down.”

“What?!”

“I’m not gonna be able to stop moving,” he said, looking over his shoulder to where I was sitting behind him on the floor. “Come on.”

He stood up and left the room, gesturing for me to follow. And I did, collecting the supplies I’d need as he led me over to his living room.

Before I could protest he removed his shirt fully -- not like how it was bunched up by his neck previously.

I stopped in my tracks, eyes taking in every inch of skin that he freed. He was lean, as I predicted, but still toned in areas.

Spencer laid on his stomach down on the couch, motioning for me to come beside him.

“Get on my back.”

“Are you insane?”

“____,” he pleaded, looking up at me. His arms were crossed by his head, he was using them as a makeshift pillow. “I just want this to be over as fast as it can be.”

Right.

“Okay,” I agreed, and began to place my materials down on the coffee table to my right. I then swung a leg over his lower back, straddling him just how I’d imagine doing so before -- only the other way around. “Is this okay?”

He hummed, digging his face as far into the fabric of the couch as he could.

‘I got a lotta new tricks for you, baby

Just sayin' I'm flexible (I will)’

I took that as a yes, and poured some of the disinfectant onto a swab. Bracing myself with a hand on his other shoulder to pin him down firmly he shivered, breath shaking ever so slightly. I tried to catch him off guard with the swab, choosing a random time to press it into his wound.

He was definitely surprised, because he whined loudly into his hands and clenched all of the muscles in his back.

I couldn’t help but wonder if he made similar noises during other activities…

“Just a minute more,” I soothed him, running my free hand over the smooth skin of his back, doing my best to calm him down.

His breathing only became heavier, and was nearly shaking from the burn. I felt bad, having to see him go through this but I’d be lying if it wasn’t doing things to me. I couldn’t help but get a little bit excited when I got the chance to be near him, to be closer than we had ever been before.

It was intense, I was almost sure he could feel my arousal through the fabric of my pants and underwear.

I was an awful person.

Going home that night to sleep was a struggle. I felt guilty, for using his pain for my perverse temptations. Yet as soon as my fingers were buried inside myself I couldn’t stop myself from imagining him above me. The way he might sound, spewing out similar noises that I’d experienced earlier that were still fresh in my brain.

I wasn’t proud of it, and I thought every one of our interactions after that would be even harder.

Going back to work seemed fully impossible, I didn’t have any hope in myself to stay useful while he was parading around, completely oblivious to the effect he had on me. I became more sexually frustrated every day. It was nearly infuriating to see a look of innocence plastered on his face, meanwhile he would do things that made me go crazy.

‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

Baby, show me what it's like (like)

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

“Penelope, I think I might die soon if I don’t get laid,” I said, rapidly opening the door to her cave.

“____-”

“No, I’m serious. I can’t get my mind off of-”

I stopped in my tracks, finally noticing the presence I hadn’t already accounted for.

Spencer sat in a chair to my left, just out of view that you couldn’t see him if you didn’t turn your head. He was in the middle of bringing a chip up to his mouth, but was stopped mid-air with his mouth hanging open.

“Sorry,” he said, scrambling up fast, bumping into things as he collected his satchel with shaky hands. “Sorry I’ll go.”

The door shut with a slam, and left Penelope and I in silence.

“Well, fuck,” I whispered, earning a booming laugh from her. “It’s not funny.”

“It is funny. It’s hilarious,” she giggled, doing a little spin on her chair.

I groaned, and sat down beside her on the edge of her desk.

“Maybe now he’ll make a move on you.”

“Oh shut up,” I slapped her arm, beginning to laugh along with her. “If he was avoiding me before, I’m sure he’ll never speak to me again.”

Ever since I helped Spencer with his injury the first time he’d been semi ignoring me, not trying to actively partake in conversation. We only talked when necessary, but didn’t exchange any extra words when I came over for an hour to help him with his wound.

I was almost happy about that, it meant I didn’t have to embarrassingly throw myself at him all day long.

I was perfectly fine admiring him from a distance, just how I’d done so for years.

However, there was a part of me that was rightfully sad. Did I cross a line, or make him feel uncomfortable? Maybe from spending so much time together recently he gathered I really wasn’t that interesting.

“Don’t say that,” Penelope frowned.

“Why not? It’s the truth,” I shrugged.

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”

“How I feel?”

“Don’t even try and wedge your way out of it. Emily told me, don’t be mad,” she said, with the sweetest look on her face that I couldn’t be upset.

“Bitch,” I playfully mumbled.

“Besides you literally were about to say that you can’t get your mind off of him.”

“Uh, no, I was not. I was going to say someone. A general someone. Not Reid.”

She hummed, turning back to her screen to finish up some work Hotch had sent her to do.

“Okay fine. Pen, I’m gonna die. It’s insufferable. I can’t handle it anymore.”

“That’s exactly why you should tell him!” She encouraged excitedly, always a swooner for young love.

“I would scare him. He’s probably scared of me, actually.”

“Oh come on, I’m sure his little virgin heart can take it.”

“What?” I asked, suddenly giving her all my attention. “Virgin? Is he seriously a virgin?”

“I don’t know, truly. I just kinda figured. He doesn’t talk about anyone or anything to do with sex.”

I nodded. That makes sense. With him radiating pure sex appeal in my eyes, the thought never even crossed my mind that he might be a virgin.

But that just made it all the more exciting.

“But hey, if he’s really a 27 year old virgin I’m sure he’s extremely horny,” she laughed.

“We are at work. Let’s calm it down before I actually combust,” I shook my head.

My palms were sweating at the very thought of him doing anything remotely sexual -- which I thought about a lot. Surely he’s had to at least...taken care of himself. I’m sure it was a gorgeous sight, his hand wrapped firmly around his dick and face contorted in nothing but pleasure.

My thoughts were interrupted by none other than the man himself, who barged into the room to say we were taking off for a case in 30.

The flight there was quiet and boring, we left at night so there wasn’t so much we could do when we got there besides head up to our hotel.

“We’re sharing a room,” Spencer said, walking over to me from where he was previously with Derek.

I was standing in front of the vending machine, doing my very best to not eavesdrop on the mens’ conversation, which was only taking place about 20 feet away. Spencer was speaking in a hushed yet agitated tone, and Derek was matching his energy. It seemed they were bickering, but about what I didn’t know.

“Says who?” I panicked.

“Uhh...Hotch did.”

Great.

“Oh. Alright,” I followed him down the hallway, our room was the last one at the end.

I waited for him to open the door, and when he stepped out of the way to let me inside I brushed past him.

When I turned around Spencer was standing there blocking my path, causing me to bump into his chest.

“Hello...” I said confused, taking a step back.

“I…”

“What?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. “Spencer what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer with words, instead reaching up to push a piece of hair out of my face. My breath hitched at the contact, sending me into a short frenzy on the inside. He was inching closer, now his body was getting just close enough so that I could feel the heat radiating off of him. He was glancing back and forth between my eyes, searching my face for an expression of discomfort.

He didn’t find any.

“I was talking with Derek. About you,” he whispered. “He said you’ve been coming on to me.”

My heart nearly missed a beat at his words.

“I've noticed your odd behaviour, you don’t act the way you do with anyone else on the team. You run away from me, and at first I thought you just didn’t like me, but now...I think it’s the opposite. I see the way you look at me, you know.”

“And how do I look at you?” I questioned nervously.

“Like you want me. Tell me. Who were you talking about earlier today? Who exactly can’t get your mind off of?”

I paused, eyes almost bulging out of my head at the implication.

“If I'm reading this wrong, let me know. We can pretend this never happened.”

“Get on the bed and take your clothes off.”

He did just that, moving beside me to shove his pants down his legs, followed by ripping off his shirt, as I did the same. We couldn’t take our eyes off of each other, too busy drinking in our appearances to think straight. He sat down on the edge of the bed in just his underwear, and spread his legs just wide enough to give me space to stand between them.

“Tell me what you want.” he breathed, watching me as I walked towards him.

“You,” I answered simply, climbing into his lap and connecting my mouth was his. “All of you.”

He didn’t protest, only doing quite the opposite. He moaned greedily into my mouth, sucking every last bit of life out of me. He was hungry in his movements, not allowing for a single beat of fresh air for either of us. I was more than happy to return the energy, for I’ve dreamt for too long about what he might taste like. And it wasn’t disappointing, the sensation was far better than I could have ever cooked up in my head.

After a minute he became impatient, and started bucking his hips up to meet mine. I did the same, grinding down on his hardening dick that felt...impressive to say the least.

“I’ve thought about you for so long,” I spoke against his lips, taking a break between kisses.

He groaned back at me, moving his hands from my cheeks down to my hips to hold me flush against himself. He whimpered when I was fully against him, he had to break away to keep his breathing somewhat managed.

“Please, I need you so bad. I’ve thought about you too.”

“What exactly did you think about?” I asked quietly, trailing kisses all across his face, and then started heading down his jaw and neck.

“L-lots of stuff.”

“Tell me,” I demanded, looking up at him from my new position kneeling on the floor. “Please, tell me.”

I brought a hand up to his boxers, ghosting just over his bulge while remaining eye contact.

“Everything. All of you. ____, Please.”

‘You're exciting, boy, come find me

Your eyes told me, "Girl, come ride me"’

“Let me do something first,” I said, pushing against his stomach to encourage him to lie back on the bed. He did so, propping himself up on his forearms to look down at me.

He watched my every move, not a second was missed by his eyes that stayed locked onto my form. I dropped my head down to kiss across his left thigh, and toyed with the waistband of his underwear with my right hand.

He was so vocal, and I hadn’t even done anything yet. I knew we had all night, but I’d waited too long for this to take my time.

‘And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

I pulled his underwear down just enough to reveal his dick hard and red as it stood up against his stomach.

“You don’t...have to,” Spencer stopped me before I could carry on.

“Do you not want me to?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s just…” He stopped, and bit his lip while staring off to one of the walls.

“Has anyone ever done this with you before?” I asked, almost unsure of whether or not I wanted the answer.

“Done what...exactly?” he asked, refusing to look back at me. His cheeks were red in embarrassment, and he was too focused on the distance to see the wave of excitement that flashed over my face.

“Spencer,” I said sharply, prompting him to turn his attention back to me. “Are you a virgin?”

His lack of answer told me enough. He blushed impossibly deeper, and started squirming in place. Just as he was about to speak up for himself I stopped him with, “That’s so fucking hot.”

“What?”

I climbed back up his body, just far enough so that I could grab his jaw in my hand and pull him down to meet my lips. It was even more hungry and passionate than the previous ones we shared, full of such fire I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to kiss anyone else ever again.

“You’re so sexy,” I moaned, hot and needy into his mouth.

He was good, which wasn’t unexpected from my end. His lips were always so plump and pink, they just had to be semi skilled.

“Thank you,” he replied, in a typical Spencer Reid fashion.

“Do you want to stop? Or keep going? Take a minute and think about it. I don’t want to pressure you,” I reassured him, but on the inside I was begging for him to want to continue.

He pulled back for a second, running a hand over the back of my head to keep me from going too far. His eyes were closed, focusing only on his breathing as he thought about his answer.

“I want to keep going. Please,” he decided on, nodding his head. “I just, I dunno, didn’t expect to get this far tonight.”

“Believe me, neither did I,” I smirked, smashing my lips back against his and returning to my spot kneeling between his legs. I pushed him back harder than before, sending a small oof sound from his chest as his back hit the mattress.

“Has anyone ever touched you here?” I asked, finally wrapping my hand around his dick,

It only made sense that a pretty boy like him would have a pretty cock, too.

“O-only once,” he breathed, with his head thrown back. He was staring at the ceiling, staring at the dots to distract himself from the feeling and to not come too soon. “Long time ago.”

“If you need me to stop, tell me,” I said, before licking a broad strip up the underside of his dick.

I paused at the head, swirling my tongue around before continuing my mission back down around the other side. I kissed his base, leaving more near his hips. He whined positively -- probably feeling a little ticklish -- and I took that as a good sign to suck a deep purple mark there.

Just like I’d thought about doing months ago.

I left a few more just up to his belly button, marking him up with the intent to claim him as my own. He’d see those marks for the next few days, and every time he would think of me on my knees for him. I kept pumping him in my hand as I did so, and every time I groaned into his skin his dick twitched with appreciation.

“Oh god,” Spencer moaned as I took him into my mouth unexpectedly, bunching up the sheets in his hands beside his hips.

I looked up to see him now staring down at me, jaw slacked and panting heavily. The sight was enough to elicit a moan from my own mouth, which led to him fluttering his eyes shut at the vibrations that shot through his body.

“Stop, stop!”

“What’s wrong?” I asked worriedly, immediately pulling up.

“Nothing, I just really want to feel you and I don’t think I can last much longer.”

Understandable.

I wasn’t expecting him to last long anyways, I just simply wanted him inside me.

“Do you happen to have a condom?” He shook his head. “I’m clean and on the pill. We should be fine. Is that okay?”

He mumbled an ‘uh huh’ as he watched me stand up, as I pushed my underwear down my legs. He immediately reached out to me, bringing me back in and starting placing kisses across my stomach and hips, mirroring what I was doing to him earlier.

“Good, because if you don’t fuck me right now I think I might die.”

‘Yeah-yeah, oh-whoa-whoa (oh, ooh, mmm)

Baby, I need to know, mmm (yeah, need to know)’

He laughed lightheartedly, fixing himself to be sitting up near the headboard. In the process he kicked off his boxers fully, along with his socks.

I followed after him, not letting him stray too far from my reach.

“I heard that women take longer to, erm, get ready,” he muttered into my skin, hiding his face in my neck. “Let me help you?”

“Please,” I whimpered, though I knew I was far from unprepared. I reached behind myself to unclasp my bra, and as soon as it fell down my shoulders Spencer attached his mouth to my left nipple. “Please touch me.”

He moaned into me, bringing his hand down to my core to run his fingers through my folds. He let his middle breach me, moving so agonizingly slow before curling his finger up. I moaned loudly, letting my eyes shut and body fall slack against him. His free arm wrapped around my waist, giving me the support I needed to stay upright.

“So that’s your g-spot?” He grinned against my skin, and I’d be damned to admit it affected me way more than it should have. He sounded so innocent, so eager to learn.

“Uh-huh.”

He explored my skin greedily, brushing over every inch of my chest he could reach. His thrusts became faster every time he re-entered me, encouraged by the grunt that fell from my lips with each one.

“Have you ever done this with a girl before?”

“No,” he replied, moving from my breasts to my collarbone, leaving a dark purple mark in his path.

“Could've fooled me,” I felt him smile against my neck at the praise -- duly noted.

He flipped us over swiftly -- much to my surprise -- and continued with his actions on both my clit and entrance. I did my best to stay quiet, biting down on his shoulder to prevent any noises from leaking out to stop him from getting too cocky.

“Spencer,” I moaned, raking my fingernails up and down his back. “Stop. Please fuck me now, I’m ready.”

“Are you sure you want to? We can stop,” he reassured me in a voice that seemed far too innocent for the activities taking place.

“Spencer, I’m sure. I’m so fucking sure you have no idea.”

I was so turned on I could cry, the pure want running through my veins was starting to send panic signals throughout my whole body. Before I could beg him any further he replaced his fingers with his dick, catching me off guard. He ran the tip over me for a few seconds before gliding in easily, with little to no restriction at all.

“Ah!” I called, gripping onto his shoulder for dear life.

“I’m so sorry, oh my god did I hurt you?” Spencer asked frantically, removing his weight from me and tried sitting up.

“No. God please move, I need you so bad,” I pleaded, pulling him back down before he could get too far away.

He nodded. He started slow. So slowly that I wanted to scream and beg at the top of my lungs for more. However I was above giving him the satisfaction of that -- at least for now.

“You feel so good,” Spencer panted, hips shaking as he slid in and out at a torturous pace.

I pulled his lips back to mine for another kiss, drinking in everything he was willing to offer. I whined every time his body rubbed against my clit in a way that had my toes curling and eyes rolling back.

“This is so much better than I’ve imagined,” I moaned, breaking free from his mouth to lay back against the pillows. I wrapped my legs around his waist, aiding him with the speed of his thrusts. “Please, Spence, oh my god go harder.”

He moaned loudly, and lowered his head to my collarbone in an effort to muffle some of the noises he was letting out.

He followed my directions well -- and I took notes for the future.

The sounds of him bouncing off the walls was amplifying my pleasure to a new degree, it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. His hips snapped forward impossibly faster, leaving him a whimpering mess above me. Our chests were pressed together, the sound of skin slapping and gliding over each other filled the dimly lit room.

“You’re doing so good for me,” I whispered into his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses here and there.

He moaned freely at all of the praise, and every time I urged him on he’d pick up his speed a little bit. He was now moving faster than I thought I could handle, slamming into me at the perfect angle.

I felt him everywhere. In my stomach, insides of my thighs, chest -- where he was now palming at one of my breasts -- and the crook of my neck. I hugged my arms around his middle to keep him locked against me, preventing his hips from heavily backing out.

“I’m really close,” He groaned, lifting his head to meet my eyes. “S-should I pull out now?”

“No,” I demanded, tightening my legs to keep him trapped. “Come inside me.”

He nodded with a particularly loud moan, and snaked one hand down my body to meet my clit. When I gave a sound of approval he quickened his wrist, rubbing me with just the right amount of pressure to send me closer to the edge.

He came with a final shout in my name, resting his full body weight against me as I rocked my him against him to help him through it. I finished soon after, at the feeling of him releasing himself in me. It was so warm, like a comforting blanket that overtook all of my senses.

It was possibly the best orgasm I’d ever had, it was so profound that I couldn’t see, or focus on anything else.

We laid there for a few minutes, my hand running through his hair and his ghosting up the side of my hip. It took a while for us both to catch our breaths, we were too immersed in the moment to break apart from one another.

“That was literally the best sex I’ve had in my life,” I breathed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Same, but I don’t have anything to compare it to,” Spencer replied, and we both laughed weakly.

“That was okay for you? Your first time? Not really the traditional approach.”

“It was perfect. I wouldn’t have asked for anything different,” he pulled himself up with a smile, before pulling out and flopping down beside me.

“But seriously,” I sat up, resting my head on my palm to get a better view of him. “I’ve never been so attracted to someone as I am with you.”

“____,” he blushed. “I-”

“No! No, let me finish. Please.”

He nodded for me to go ahead.

“Not only are you just insanely sweet and so charming, you’re so handsome. Like I can hardly even look at you half the time. You drive me insane, Spencer you have no idea. Holy fuck I’ve never wanted someone so bad before I met you. You’re intoxicating. I can’t get enough. I’ll cringe about this later but I just need you to know.”

“This may not be the most common way...but do you want to go out with me? L-like on a date?” Spencer asked. He was blushing so heavily, his chest was painted pink and ears were turned red.

“You just came inside of me and you’re nervous about asking me on a date.”

“____!” Spencer exclaimed, facepalming himself.

“Yes,” I grinned. “I’d love to go out with you.”

-----

Please tell me your thoughts on this chapter here! You can also send me an ask to be added to/removed from the taglist.

permanent taglist; @pervhotch @spenxerslut @donald4spiderman @measure-in-pain @thatonezesty13 (check your visibility settings!) @jswessie187 @kuolonsyoja @idonotexiste

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #sub spencer reid #virgin spencer reid #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader #mgg #matthew gray gubler #gublernation #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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proxyoddo · 3 years ago

Text

The Right Approach

One-shot: Tech x gn!reader

Words: 2K

Summary: Tech hasn't slept for a few days, and you're worried about him. No one has been able to convince him to a bunk, but Hunter thinks you might be able to get through to the goggled trooper.

AN: This week has been kicking my ass, and I've not had much time to focus on Derecho. Part 4 is almost done and will come soon, but I felt bad because I haven't posted in a while. So, have this kinda cute fluff with Tech that I wrote trying to get my mind into writing.

(I am also shite at titling things 😅 )

Warnings: None, only fluff and snuggles.

It had been four days, and Tech had not slept. With the repairs needed for the console in the cockpit, he had been working endlessly to be sure that the Havoc Marauder would be at 100% working capacity before they next took off from Kamino. The rest of the Batch did what they could to help, but much of it was intricate - more than one hand would not help.

Currently you were standing outside the ship, staring up the steps ready to stomp inside and give Tech a piece of your mind. How did he think he would get you all off the ground if he ran headlong into it himself?

You heard a clunk and a curse from inside, coming from Tech. You frowned, and were about to take the first step into the Marauder when a hand firmly grasped your shoulder.

“Y/N,” came Hunter's voice, and you sighed heavily before turning your head to face him. “You know he won’t stop. Especially if you’re just going to just tell him outright ‘get your ass to bed’.”

“Well what the kriff are we supposed to do then?” you asked with a slight hiss, frustration getting the best of you.

Hunter fixed you with a sympathetic gaze, and shrugged sadly. “Eventually he’ll just pass out in there-”

“And break something while he’s at it? Hurt himself?”

“There was a 'but' in that sentence, Y/N,” Hunter said, smiling a little and giving you a push towards the steps. “You might be able to get through to him.”

You looked at him incredulously, causing him to actually chuckle.

“Tech likes having you around. He’d probably listen to you if you approach it the right way. And based on how much you also seem to care about him, I figure you’re stubborn enough to get him to a bunk,” he said, as if he were just talking about the clouds passing through the sky. You could feel heat rising up your cheeks. “And yes, before you ask, I’ve known for a bit. Heightened senses, remember?”

You cursed internally. When you had joined the squad as their combat medic, you had taken an immediate liking to Tech. And with time, it just grew. Certainly he could talk for hours, and sometimes it was difficult to keep up with his excited chatter, but he was an amazing man. Strong, insatiably curious - and even with his oftentimes hard, matter-of-fact tone - incredibly caring. You had flirted with him from time to time, sometimes not even recognizing it yourself until afterwards. But the trooper seemed to be none the wiser to your actions. Never stopped your heart from racing whenever your hands accidentally touched though, or if he gave you one of those rare Tech smiles. That must be how Hunter knew; he could literally hear the thunder of your heart when the two of you were together.

“You really think I can get through to him?” you asked quietly.

“Worth a try,” Hunter said. “Besides, the rest of the squad are also getting antsy. If I have to listen to Crosshair go on about knocking Tech out with Gonky anymore, I might have to hide the droid.”

“He wouldn’t.”

“Crosshair likes to sleep in his bunk,” Hunter replied. “At this point he’d go to whatever lengths, I would imagine.”

You laughed, and nodded to the sergeant. He waved you on before turning away, likely to head back to the others. Turning and looking into the ship, you steeled yourself before going up the steps and stopping outside the cockpit.

“Tech?” you called.

“Yes, Y/N?” came his voice, seemingly bright as if he was actually still getting a regular amount of sleep.

“How… How’s it going in there?”

Another loud clunking sound and dropping equipment had you stepping inside, looking to find Tech on the ground under the console. The plastoid that normally covered his chest and back was gone, propped up against the wall next to the console.

“It’s going fine!” Tech growled, tossing something out of the compartment he was in giving you just enough time to skirt out of the way before it clanged against the wall opposite of him.

“Hmm, sounds it…” you muttered, before squatting down. He continued on whatever he was working with while you thought for a moment. “Hey Tech-”

“Y/N, please, I am attempting to get the comm frequencies on this damnedable thing working in proper order,” he said, and you could see him turn to look at you for a moment with a reflection of his goggles. “While the Marauder still has functional comm capabilities, the extensive damage from our last encounter with the Separatists has weakened the signal strength, which poses a threat to us while in the field which as you can understand-”

“I have a question,” you interrupted. He stuttered to a halt, and there was silence for a few moments before his hands appeared at the lip of the console and he pulled himself out. The words “sleep deprivation” practically screamed at you from the features of his face.

“Yes?” He seemed intent to answer whatever it was that you were going to ask, even if he had been frustrated a moment ago. Maybe Hunter had been right, and you could get through to him.

You swallowed a little, his tired face filling you with resolve. “What happens to someone when they do not sleep for 4 or more days?”

Tech frowned a little, before going into his answer. “Typically after 3 days of no rest, a person’s urge to sleep will get worse and they will begin to experience microsleeps. Perception is also significantly impaired, and reaching 4 days without adequate rest will continue to distort it. In some, the urge to sleep will become unbearable. It can result in sleep deprivation psychosis.”

You nodded along throughout his entire explanation without saying anything. When he finished, the two of you stared at one another for a few moments of silence.

“Oh,” Tech said with quiet understanding.

“C’mon,” you said warmly, standing up and holding a hand out to him.

Tech shook his head, and you briefly considered going to find Gonky. “I understand your concern, and though it is appreciated, I just need to complete one last thing with the comms before I believe they will be properly functional,” he said. Tech began looking around before his eyes fell on his datapad behind you on one of the seats, and pointed to it. “Could you pass that to me?”

You took the datapad in your hand, but didn’t hand it to Tech. He looked at you with confusion as you began to step away.

“If you want the datapad, Tech,” you began, stepping out of the cockpit, “you’re going to need to come and get it.”

You smiled a little when you heard him getting up from the cockpit floor behind you. “Please, Y/N, I need to calibrate it.” You ignored him, continuing to the bunks before crawling up into the one you usually slept in. You sat back on the bunk, back leaning against the wall, holding the datapad up next to your head.

Tech entered the room, looking even more tired as he stared up at you. “I’m unsure what you are attempting to accomplish here other than getting on my nerves.” You just smiled in response, waving the datapad at him. With a big sigh from him, you watched as Tech pulled himself slowly up to the bunk, and then knelt in front of you between your feet.

“Give it,” he said, losing any formality. You shook your head, waving the datapad again.

In any other circumstance, Tech literally crawling into your lap with a determined expression like he currently had, would have left you breathless. But your intent to get him exactly where he was now, reaching for the datapad and face so very close to your own, helped you keep focus. When Tech’s fingers firmly grasped around the datapad, you let go and leaned forward. Your arms wrapped around his torso and your legs around his, pulling him directly into your embrace, his chin hitting your shoulder.

“Y/N?” Tech tentatively asked, a bit breathless against you.

“You need to sleep, Tech,” you whispered against his ear, arms squeezing just a little tighter as he tried to move. You felt his sharp intake of breath and he completely stilled in your arms, tensely holding himself up. “Relax.”

“I… I need to-” he began, but his sentence was broken by a soft groan as one of your hands began to run up and down his back. A soothing motion, fingertips ghosting over his side as your palm ran along his spine. Your other arm moved under his, your hand reaching up to the back of his neck and gently running through the short hair found at the base of his skull.

You leaned your head gently to the side, pressing against his. “Please, Tech,” you pleaded, and you felt him begin to relax in your arms.

“Cyar’ika...” he sighed, and his voice was thick with sleep. His resolve gone due to your ministrations, he finally let his whole body slump against you, and he turned his face into your neck. You could feel his warm breath and cool goggles against your skin and you couldn’t help the small shiver that spread through your body.

“That’s it, Tech,” you cooed, loosening the grip of your legs so he could settle more between them. In doing so he slid down your chest a little, making you glad that at some point he had decided to discard his chest plate. You heard the datapad hit the bunk’s thin mattress as Tech's arms wrapped around you, pressing his face more firmly into your chest with a deep breath.

You felt a gentle warmth spread through you as you both embraced one another. You couldn’t help but smile down at Tech, and you gently reached up to carefully slide the goggles from his face before setting them down on the bunk near the datapad. It was mere moments before you could tell Tech was asleep against you. Moving carefully, you pressed your lips against the top of his head and leaned back again.

“Comms will still be there when you get up,” you said to his sleeping form, before closing your eyes and feeling a bit drowsy yourself.

It was a while later that you woke to the sound of someone entering the Marauder. You had no idea how long you had been asleep, and you opened your eyes slowly, looking about the compartment to find Crosshair standing there. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was looking at you with a smirk. He just nodded when he saw your attention was on him, and climbed into the bunk below the one you currently occupied with Tech.

Speaking of, the usually goggled clone was still sleeping soundly against you. You smiled before gently running your fingers through his hair, feeling him sigh and snuggle more into your body.

“Hey Cross?” you called out, careful not to be too loud.

A grunt of acknowledgement was the sniper’s response.

“...what does ‘cyar’ika’ mean?” you asked after a moment’s pause. Tech had said it earlier, but you didn’t know what it was.

You were met with silence, and you were beginning to wonder if Crosshair was actually going to answer you. You resigned yourself to mystery when he finally spoke:

“It’s Mando’an. It means ‘darling,’ ‘beloved,’ or ‘sweetheart’.”

You froze. Tech had called you that? A blush creeped up your skin, and you knew if Crosshair had been looking at you he’d see just how red you were in the semi-darkness of the Marauder.

“Th-thanks,” you said back, before looking down at Tech. You didn’t think you had ever seen the trooper look as relaxed as peaceful as you did right now, and you couldn’t help but smile. Leaning down just a little, you hugged him a little tighter.

“Cyar’ika,” you soothed, and smiled more as Tech’s arms squeezed you tighter as well in response.

#the bad batch #tbb tech #tbb hunter #tbb crosshair #the bad batch x reader #gn!reader #tech x reader #tech x gn!reader #star wars #star wars the bad batch

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bssaz97 · 3 years ago

Note

Based on our previous chat, Ruby meets male!Blake for the first time.

@darksaiyangoku, here you go buddy. I hope you enjoy! ^^

Ruby petal-burst into her room, she had narrowly escaped the gauntlet that was the new “Arc Twins” of Beacon. She needed sound advice, someone who had experience in these types of ordeals, and luckily for Ruby her advisor was here, taking her afternoon nap in her bunk.

Salvation!

Ruby: Blake! You gotta help me! There’s two Jaune’s *breathes* and one of them is a girl, *breathes* like a really pretty girl, *breathes* and now there’s two of them that are all over me, so I ran away and nowIdontknowwhattodosopleasepleaseplease! *breathes* Help me! 😭

*groans* “Could you keep it down... trying to sleep.”

Ruby immediately froze in place, realizing quickly that the person in bed did not sound like her teammate. Actually, no, it did sound like something her teammate would say, the issue being that it was coming from someone else she hasn’t heard from before.

Her wide silver eyes slowly look downwards, where she is now able to look more closely at the person in her teammates bed.

Upon closer examination this person did happen to look a lot like Blake, if she were a boy, even had cat ears. Which is probably why she didn’t notice before that this wasn’t her teammate sleeping. She wasn’t being racist, she swears!

She drifts her gaze across this male’s sleeping form, he was rather tall, more so than her friend. He had a lean form, but could tell even with a blanket cover that those muscles were toned, close to how Ren was, she would say.

Ruby’s gaze begins her way back towards this boy’s face, where she sees amber eyes staring amusedly back at her.

???: You finished?

OH NO! SHE’D BEEN CAUGHT STARING! ABORT! ABORT!

Ruby: A-Ah, Hi! Hello there! I was just looking for my teammate, but I guess I went in the wrong room! Hahaha! I’ll just be on my way-!

To her surprise though, the stranger began to laugh melodically, very reminiscent of how Blake laughs.

???: Ruby, you’re fine I’m not mad.

Ruby: H-How do you know my name?

The boy raised one of his eye brows quizzically, surprised his leader had not figured it out yet.

???: Really Ruby, I’m in our dorm room, which I wouldn’t be able to enter lest I had the scroll clearance. I’m in my bed specially and I’m talking to you like I’ve known you for months.

Ruby: ...Blake?

M!Blake: Yup.

Ruby: B-But how? I thought Jaune was the only one who had a twin. I mean, you were there for the initial testing of the experimental dust but you weren’t hit by any of it.... right?

The Faunus adverts his gaze away.

Ruby: Blake!

M!Blake: Don’t worry, I’m completely fine. Turns out the same thing happens to you no matter how much of the “splicing dust” you take or get on you. Granted it happened much quicker for Jaune while for me it took a bit longer. My sister is currently out to get us something for me to eat while I took the liberty of taking the first nap.

Ruby: This is all so confusing. Now my teammate has a twin, what am I gonna do…

M!Blake: You seem pretty stressed, wanna take a seat? *moves a bit to make a spot for the reaper*

Ruby: Mmhm.

Ruby sat down on Blake’s bed, then let out a sigh.

M!Blake: So you needed advice right? About Jaune and Joan, right?

Ruby: I’m just so confused.

M!Blake: Not sure how to proceed?

Ruby: *nods* I-It’s just… They give me so much attention, like I’m the holy grail at the end of a quest. Jaune is so forward now, Joan even more so, but they're so sincere about it too and I’ve never gotten this much attention directed at me before so now I’m-! I just got overwhelmed I guess. *sad Rose noises*

The Male faunus had his eyes closed, holding his chin in his dominant hand with a pondering expression for a few moments before a thought hit him.

M!Blake: Hm… I think I know what your problem is.

Ruby: That I’m a dork who can’t handle a bit of forward teasing?

M!Blake: *uncrosses his arms* Not that. I think what you’re through is easier to understand. You, Ruby Rose, are coming to terms of being a sub.

Ruby: ...Huh?!

Out of all the things she thought would come from Blake’s mouth, well her twin’s mouth, she did not think that would be one of them.

M!Blake: For all your life you’ve always wanted to be a huntress, a symbol of strength and dominance over the Grimm to many. You’re so used to being the “hero” that when someone else comes in to sweep you off your feet, you’re overwhelmed and shaking like a school girl who just got confessed to.

Ruby: That is what happened Blake!

M!Blake: So you’re agreeing with me?

Ruby: No! Well yes but- Grrr! You’re making me confused!

M!Blake: *laughs* Yep, you’re definitely got it bad.Sorry to say it, but behind closed doors, you’re the sub.

Ruby: Nooo!~ That’s so uncool!

M!Blake: Sorry Ruby, but it’s the truth. But don’t take it as a bad thing. That just means if you decide to accept their offer, they’ll do anything to please you.

Ruby: Eh? They will?

M!Blake: Yep. Anything you want.

The Faunus leans over and places her neatly folded cloak on the desk, the reaper having been so flustered that she didn’t even recall him taking it off her.

M!Blake: Take, for example, pampering.

Ruby: Pampering? But I’m not a baby!

M!Blake: Well not like that… unless you’re into that? *gives a side glance*

Ruby: *frowned* Blake.

M!Blake: Right. What I mean is like, indulge in your wants.

Ruby: *blinks* My wants?

M!Blake: Yeah, like say, if they started to spend more time with you, taking you to the weapon store and that arcade we saw one time in Vale you wanted to go.

Ruby: That… sounds good.

M!Blake: What if they started giving you extra strawberries for lunch because they know you love to eat them.

Ruby: *gasps!* That would be the best.

M!Blake: Bow what if they offered to give you a shoulder massage?

Ruby: Shoulder massage? Why would I wa-aaah...

Whatever words Ruby was about to utter we’re cut off as she felt two hands, his hands, began to slowly massage her shoulders.

While a part of her brain thought that she should have shoved him away, another part did not feel any harm in his movements or his facial features. What struck out to Ruby the most were his amber eyes, in those irises she found no ill will or hidden agendas. Instead she found someone that she could trust, like his counterpart and her teammate.

So Ruby relented, decided not to shove him off, and let Blake continue.

M!Blake: How are we doing?

Ruby: I-It feels ok. I could definitely see myself enjoying this. I-If Jaune or Joan made an offer to do this!

M!Blake: Mm, that’s good to know. You actually seem to be enjoying this, mind if I go a bit further?

Ruby: S-Sure.

Blake gets up momentarily, much to her dismay, but then motions for Ruby to lie down on the bed, which she did without a second thought, after all this was only a massage from a friend.

Ruby laid belly down on the bed and kindly accepted the offer of her teammate’s pillow for head support. She feels the bed shift as her faunus friend’s male counterpart gets back on the bed to kneel above her back and returns to his massaging, much to her delight.

M!Blake: Are you enjoying yourself?

The red reaper hummed in approval.

M!Blake: Excellent, try to relax a bit, I’m going to try something a bit different now.

Ruby wasn’t sure what exactly he meant but her train of thought left her when suddenly she registered feeling something sharp just poking on her back.

Unknownst to her, Blake’s counterpart possessed an ability his sister did not, he could extend his nails to the point that they became claws.

M!Blake: Ok Ruby, you ready?

Ruby: I-Is this safe?

M!Blake: You remember we have Aura, right? I couldn’t hurt you even if I had the intention to do it with these.

Ruby: Oh, right. *nervously laughs*

M!Blake: It’s ok Ruby, you’re in safe hands.

Ruby: Thank gods Yang wasn’t here to hear that.

M!Blake: Starting. Now just relax.

Ruby breathes in, relaxing her back as best as she could and-

Ruby: ‘Oh my goooooooooods!~’

Ruby started to hum sensually as the faunus started to slowly and carefully scratch her back. He wasn’t too rough but it was certainly a satisfying experience. She felt she could get lost in this moment for hours.

M!Blake: I take it I’m doing a good job? *smirking slightly*

Ruby: Mmmm!~

M!Blake: I’ll take that as a yes.

The two continued on like this for a few minutes, that was until the male Blake’s ears heard the sound of shuffling outside the door.

*click!*

Out from the door came the original Blake, a tray of tuna rolls and books in each hand, but almost fell from her grip as she saw the sight before her.

That being of her make twin and her team leader being under her.

F!Blake: What are you doing?!

M!Blake: Oh hello sister, I forgot you were coming back. Thanks for getting us food, and books! How thoughtful. Can you set both down on the desk, please? I’ll get to them in a bit.

F!Blake: FORGET THE TUNA! What are you doing to Ruby?!

M!Blake: ...Giving her a massage, isn’t it obvious?

F!Blake: *breathes* Did she consent?

M!Blake: Course. *blinks* ...Hold on. Did you think-?

F!Blake: *groans* I don’t know. From my point of view, it would have looked like anything. You’re lucky it was me who caught you and not Yang!

M!Blake: *he frowns* You know as well as I do that we’d never take advantage of Ruby in such a way.

F!Blake: I know! I know… Sorry for jumping to conclusions. What are you now anyway?

M!Blake: Giving her legs a massage. She’s really sensitive there, apparently.

Ruby: *pleased mumbles* M-More…

F!Blake: I-I see. Well Jaune and Joan have been asking me if ups had seen her around anywhere so you better wrap this up before we have a major misunderstanding.

M!Blake: Fair. Although you seem upset about something else though.

F!Blake: I have no idea what you mean. *her eyes looked away from him*

M!Blake: No, something is definitely bothering you. I can tell.

His gaze followed to where his sister was staring and he soon realized that she had her eyes locked onto the person that was underneath him.

A lightbulb flicked on.

M!Blake: *smirks* Wow, I wasn’t aware we were capable of jealousy.~

F!Blake: Who said I was jealous?

M!Blake: Oh please, it’s written all over your face. Why are you basically lying to yourself?

F!Blake: …..

M!Blake: Oh I get it. You’re disappointed she let me give her a massage instead of you.

F!Blake: You can’t read my mind…

M!Blake: Like I need to, you and I share a similar mindset.

The male Blake ceases his massage, then gently pats Ruby’s shoulder to grab her attention. Which he had already since he stopped her flow of euphoria.

Ruby: *whimper* W-Why’d you stop?

M!Blake: Sorry Ruby, but it seems like we’re switching for now.

Ruby: Eh..?

He carefully steps off the bed, once he’s off he looked at his sister expectantly.

M!Blake: Well? Gonna keep her waiting?

F!Blake: W-Wait, huh?

Ruby: Blake... I don’t want my massage to be over yet!~

Blake couldn’t believe what she was hearing, her team leader and brother were expecting her to… the former a massage. Her hands rubbing her peers’ skin and muscles, like a masseuse. Her face and brain were heating up as it was taking a bit of time to process.

Ruby: Blaaaake!~ Please…! I want more!

F!Blake: …. ‘Fuck it.’

Without another word, she got on her bed, sat in a kneel over the young reaper waiting for her massage to continue.

She looked at her hands for a brief moment before taking a breath, steeling herself as she took the dive.

Ruby: Mmm!~

F!Blake: ‘Yeah, this is definitely worth it.’ -///-

#rwby #ruby rose #blake belladonna #rule 63 #ask me #anonymous asks #darksaiyangoku #rwby ladybug #rwby lancaster

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bloodfromthethorn · 3 years ago

Text

Misunderstandings

Their partnership might have gotten off to a bad start, but Mac has a good feeling about Jack Dalton - right up until he messes it all up, that is.

Or, the time Jack learns about Mac's fear of heights and it's still not the most important realisation he has that day.

Also on AO3

Mac had never really been sure quite what he expected from Afghanistan and now, six months in, he still wasn’t particularly confident on exactly what it was he had found. It certainly hadn’t been easy, and he’d already managed to experience the most profound loss he’d felt since the death of his grandpa, but there was still something undeniably… compelling about it all. The way he could fall into an uncomfortable bed at the end of the day exhausted but with the bone-deep knowledge that the work he had done was important, had made a difference. That there were people walking around out there, living their lives, because of the things that he had done.

It wasn’t good, precisely, but it wasn’t all bad either.

Jack was a wrench in the works. They couldn’t have gotten off to a poorer start and for a hairy moment there, Mac had been convinced that the next two months of his life were really going to be hell on earth. Jack was loud-mouthed, crass, opinionated, and had some of the worst taste in both music and film known to man. He had little to no regard for anyone else’s opinion of him and he was more than ready to settle a fight with his fists if he thought the situation called for it.

He was also probably the best soldier Mac had ever met.

It might have taken them some time to get traction but after the first few rocky missions, they’d both managed to settle down just enough to actually get a good look at one another. What Mac had found was nothing like what he’d expected.

For one, Jack was very, very good at his job. A crack shot, backed up with a keenly tactical mind that went far beyond anything Mac had been taught at basic. He’d never asked to see Jack’s file – and given that he was almost certain the man had been an Alphabet at some point, he’d probably get denied even if he tried – but he had a feeling that the record would be long, expansive, and impressive. He knew far too much about soldiering to not have been doing it most of his life and he handled a vast range of weaponry with too much familiarity to have always been saddled with Overwatch duties.

No, somewhere in his past, Jack had been crafted into an immense force to be reckoned with. He might tell jokes, laugh loudly, and act the fool, but buried underneath it all was something dangerous just waiting to be unleashed. It should have been scary – and in a distant, sort-of-intrigued kind of way, it was – but mostly Mac was just impressed. Whatever else he might have done, Jack had decided to use his extensive training to serve the purpose of protecting EOD technicians in a place where there were enemies at every corner.

More than anything, Jack made him feel safe . Safe in a way he hadn’t truly felt since watching Peña die barely twenty feet from him. After so long in the Sandbox, constantly having to watch his back as his hands took apart contraptions designed to kill him, he’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be out from under that constant cloud of dread. Jack gave him that freedom and Mac couldn’t help but be hopelessly thankful for it.

Of course, increasing familiarity aside, it wasn’t perfect. Two men trapped in very close quarters in a high stress environment were occasionally going to butt heads no matter what, and Mac wasn’t naive enough to think they’d be an exception.

Jack had been waylaid by a messenger as soon as the pair of them arrived back on base, both already worn out from a long, overly hot day in the sun. In an act of mercy, he’d waved Mac off to go on ahead in an attempt to spare him whatever bureaucratic nonsense was likely about to come his way – an assumption that was almost immediately proved accurate when three minutes later Mac saw him stalking off in the direction of the command centre.

He didn’t think much of it; Jack was perpetually being pulled in by the brass for reasons he was never particularly keen to explain. When directly asked, he’d always brushed it off with some sarcastic comment about how people just couldn’t get enough of his charm, but the hardness in his eyes had stopped Mac from trying to press further. If anything, it only added to his growing surety that Jack was a far more important person than he wanted to appear. Nothing Mac was doing was of particular note to anyone beyond what command already learned through his reports, but if someone with extensive training in observation and tactics was given free rein to roam the area under the radar for the sole purpose of watching what was going on – like, say, an Explosive Ordnance Disposal Overwatch – then that opened up a whole new avenue of surveillance.

If he’d had to bet, Mac would have said that according to the letter of Jack’s job description, keeping him safe was a secondary consideration at best. Fortunate, then, that the man himself didn’t seem like the type of person to do anything halfway.

Today, though, something was different. On the way back to base, Jack had been relaxed and easy, content as always to fill in Mac’s silence with a running commentary of his own about what he was most looking forward to when he got back to Texas, but clearly whatever had happened in the command tent had thrown that off. When he finally stomped into the dorm over an hour later, his brow was shadowed and tense, and he didn’t even acknowledge Mac’s presence as he grabbed a clean set of fatigues and headed for the showers.

Sitting cross legged on his bunk with his gear spread out before him, Mac watched him go with troubled eyes. Jack, as anyone in their situation did, occasionally had off days when he was less talkative and clearly wanted to be left alone, but Mac had never seen him turn on a dime quite so quickly.

Truthfully, Mac hadn’t thought him the type. But, he reminded himself forcefully, he still barely knew the man and regardless, it almost certainly wasn’t any of his business. Far better to just keep going through his kit, cataloguing anything he needed to replace or repair, and let Jack work through whatever his problem was on his own; if he wanted to talk to Mac about it, he knew where to find him.

Despite his preoccupation, Mac did end up immersed in his task. Kit checks were dull but important, and he was fastidious enough to make sure he did the job right every single time. As an EOD tech, he was lucky – everyone else had to do mandatory checks before and after any excursions outside of the FOB, no matter how frequent they may be. Officially EOD specialists were supposed to do the same but in deference to their unpredictable schedule and unique loadouts, command typically waived the usual report requirements and let them do their own thing. He was still liable to be disciplined should he get spot checked and fail, but he had a lot more freedom than most people on the base.

He was about halfway through when Jack made his reappearance, freshly washed but looking no happier for it. He dropped his dirty laundry in a heap next to his trunk and flopped down onto his bunk without a word, reaching out a few moments later to fiddle with the ancient radio beside him. He’d told Mac some time ago that he’d inherited it from his dad and it was clear from the reverence with which he spoke about it that it was deeply important to him. Important enough, apparently, that no one else sharing their tent complained when he had it blasting out whatever station he could pick up, even with the god awful crackle that all but drowned out any actual words that might try to come through.

The crackle that was evidently getting worse, going off the horrendous screech the radio let out the moment it was turned on. Mac flinched sharply at the sudden noise, but didn’t protest. Jack, if anything, looked more pissed off at the continued buzzing no matter how he adjusted the dials, rasping and hissing in turns but never letting any clear audio through. After listening to Jack cursing under his breath for a minute or two, Mac figured it was about time he offered a hand.

“That’s not sounding too good,” he pointed out unnecessarily, keeping his voice light. “Want me to take a look?”

“It’s fine,” was the short response, bitten out and frustrated.

Mac rolled his eyes, not catching the warning edge of Jack’s tone. “Look, I know I promised I wouldn’t touch any of your stuff again, but if you let me have a look, I can probably fix it.”

It was an honest offer – the radio was hardly a complicated bit of kit and Mac was pretty sure he already knew exactly what the issue was. If he was right, he could have it fixed inside of five minutes and he wouldn’t even need to cannibalise parts from anything else to do it. Sure the rule might have been that Mac couldn’t touch Jack’s gear again, but they’d been forced to relax that within a week of working together and recently it had felt more like an in-joke than anything.

Apparently, Jack didn’t feel the same.

“Or you’d just break it down for parts like you do with everything else,” he shot back acidly and for the first time, Mac realised the heaviness in Jack’s gaze wasn’t simple fatigue or irritation; he looked pissed . “Yeah, thanks but no thanks. Keep away from my stuff.”

Mac blinked. The words themselves were surprising, but it was the tone that really cut at him; sarcastic and unfriendly and mean . Mocking in a way that Jack often pretended to be when he was trying to lighten the mood, only this time neither of them was laughing. He looked dead serious.

“I-uh,” Mac said haltingly, forcing himself to suddenly adjust his entire perspective on the conversation. He really had just been trying to help. “Right,” he said after an awkward pause. “Sorry.”

He ducked his head and turned back to the gear spread out across his bunk, wishing fiercely he hadn’t bothered to open his mouth in the first place. Cleaning and sorting his kit had suddenly become a much less enthralling task – and it hadn’t exactly been the highlight of his day to begin with – but he kept his eyes down and vehemently forbade his attention from wandering back to his partner.

Less than a minute later, Jack let out a sharp sigh that might have included a curse, and stomped out of the tent. Mac refused to look up.

They didn’t talk about it. The next morning the pair of them loaded into their transport for the day – for once they’d been gifted an MRAP that in any other situation Jack would probably be crowing about – in stony silence that persisted straight through until evening. The only time Jack deigned to talk to him was for mission-critical comms, almost all of which was delivered via radio in a blank monotone that made it abundantly clear how little he actually wanted to be speaking with him. Mac surprised himself by how fiercely he found he missed the usual inane commentary in his ear.

None of it made sense.

Evidently he’d messed up somehow, done something that crossed a line he hadn’t seen, although he had no idea what it could possibly have been. Okay, yes, the radio was obviously important to Jack on some personal level Mac wasn’t allowed access to and maybe he really didn’t want Mac touching it. That was completely fair – Mac wouldn’t have argued against him at all if the man had just said ‘no’ and left it there. Instead his response had been- Well. There were a lot of words Mac could use to describe it and he didn’t really want to confront any of them.

It wouldn’t change the result either way. Mac had a sneaking suspicion that whatever it was he had broken had been something irreparable, especially if Jack wasn’t even going to let him talk it out.

The closest they came to it that day was during their last call-out for the evening, a surprisingly tricky little device some asshole had planted outside of a shop known to serve US soldiers. A bit of petty revenge most likely, but packing enough explosives to level the building and take out anyone unlucky enough to be standing within a twenty metre radius.

“Everyone within half a block of you is gettin’ out of dodge,” Jack reported about half an hour after their arrival. “No sign of whoever put that thing there.”

Mac digested that, doing a quick mental calculation to decide if the evacuation zone was large enough and ultimately deciding that it was. “Good. You set up somewhere?”

“Behind you, thirty metres back.”

There was a tell-tale tickle on the back of his neck that Mac had come to associate with Jack’s scope passing over him. At the start of their partnership it had made him uncomfortable; now, it was distantly reassuring. A part of him wanted to turn around to make sure of Jack’s position himself, but he knew that was sure to piss Jack off even more – he always got jumpy about Mac indicating his position whenever they were out in the field.

“I’m going to be a while,” he said instead of cracking a joke. “This thing’s complicated.”

“Fast as you can.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

There was a telling silence where a sarcastic retort would normally sit, and Mac had to pause for a second to remind himself that the IED in front of him needed his attention far more than his own unimportant tribulations. It wasn’t until another ten minutes had passed that he spoke again. “Okay, I’ve figured out what I’ve got to do, but I’m going to need some of your gum.”

He said it mostly without thinking, too used to being able to just state what he needed and for Jack to freely offer up whatever it was, albeit with some bellyaching about having to give up his stuff. The words were already out of his mouth before he remembered how vehemently Jack had been against Mac being anywhere near his personal possessions just yesterday.

Fortunately, Jack seemed to understand the urgency of the situation, because he simply sighed before saying, “Copy that. On my way to you.”

He didn’t offer any further protest when he appeared at Mac’s back either, handing over the stick of gum without a word, then hunkering down in the alleyway to keep watch with his rifle balanced on his knee. It was strangely normal for all that had come before, except for the silence that still hung over them like a cloud.

Exhausted, and with bigger things to focus on, Mac just went about his job and didn’t say another word.

Jack’s mood continued over the next few days, with little sign of abating. It would have been much easier to bear if Mac had any clue what exactly had triggered it beyond the vague sense that this was all somehow his fault, but it wasn’t like he could just walk up to the man and ask. Any time he’d even thought about striking up conversation or doing anything to try to make peace, Jack’s responses had been sharp and to the point. He didn’t want to talk, that much was clear, and Mac was nothing if not a quick learner.

After the first day of strained silence, he figured it was better to just keep his mouth shut and stay out of Jack’s way.

One thing he hadn’t really counted on was how strange it would feel now to be wandering around base on his own. Since being paired up with Jack, he’d hardly had a minute to himself – the man took his Overwatch duties very seriously even in the relative safety of the FOB – but now he was apparently free to roam as he pleased. Almost as soon as they returned to base each day, Jack took himself off to places unknown with a determined sort of look on his face and usually didn’t reappear again until he fell into bed beside Mac’s at night. Mac very firmly did not think about what that said about Jack’s newly-discovered ambivalence towards his safety. Now, after only a month of that partnership, it felt almost unnatural to be alone again.

At the very least it meant that he was free to go and eat whenever he felt like it, rather than having to bend around Jack’s schedule. It was that line of reasoning that had him heading towards the mess that evening, late enough to miss the main crowd who piled in at 7 but too early to run into the late shift teams who had a second run at things once the night had drawn in. The approach meant that he could count on getting a good table with minimal interference, but it did mean sacrificing any chance of getting decently hot food. The ‘buffet’, such as it was, would be topped up with fresh food at about 10, but for now Mac was stuck with the dried out, cooling remains that no one else had wanted earlier.

He nodded at the woman KP duty, earning an apologetic smile at the state of the food in return, then glanced around the marquee to find somewhere to sit.

A group of camp runners were huddled together in the corner, loudly engaging in a round of ‘I have it worse than you’, but otherwise the place was pretty deserted. With his pick of the tables, Mac settled himself down as far from the runners as he could get, hoping for a little bit of peace, but with no other nearby noise to drown them out, their voices washed over him all the same. They’d taken no notice of his presence beyond a quick check to make sure he wasn’t wearing officer’s stripes and in the absence of any authority, they seemed quite content to air their grievances to anyone close enough to listen.

For the most part he studiously ignored them – he had exactly zero interest in the minutiae of memos being passed around the base – and went about the business of choking down the cold food in front of him quickly enough to avoid its bland flavour.

It wasn’t until he heard a familiar name that he automatically tuned back into the conversation across from him.

“ Please ,” One of the runners was scoffing with an imperial hand wave, “As if Carter is anything to worry about. I’m the one who had to tell Dalton his reassignment request was denied. Thought he was going to take my head off when I said I didn’t know why.”

Mac froze in place, the rest of the discussion fading completely into the background as all the pieces of the puzzle he had been building snapped into place with painful efficiency. So that was why Jack had been so grouchy over the last week, why he’d been so sharp whenever Mac had tried to make conversation: he’d put in a transfer request to get away from him and been shot down. Jack wanted to leave and couldn’t. Of course.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise. Mac knew how he could come across, had seen how people reacted to all the weird quirks of his personality, and Jack would hardly be the first person in the world to take one look at him and start heading for the hills – hell, he’d barely crack the top hundred. And yet, despite all of that, all of his previous experience warning him that anyone could leave at any time for any reason, Mac still found himself caught wholly off guard.

He'd thought they’d been getting better. Sure, it wasn’t like they were close and half the time they could still barely stand each other, but more and more that had felt like an act they were putting on to avoid revealing they didn’t actually mind each other all that much after all. Clearly he’d been wildly wrong in that assumption. What he’d thought was increasing camaraderie was- what? Nothing but his imagination? Or maybe an attempt on Jack’s part to show the brass that he really had given their partnership an honest shot before trying to bail?

Worse than the simple rejection was how deeply unnecessary it felt. As Mac had so often been reminded, Jack only had twenty-eight days left of his tour before he was headed home for good and none of this would even matter anymore. Was he truly so unhappy with Mac’s partnership that he was going to go through the arduous process of reassignment for the sake of four weeks? He’d just had to stick it out for one more month and he would have been free and clear, and yet somehow that was still too much.

It might have been insulting if it hadn’t been so fucking painful.

But this wasn’t the place for that. None of these were revelations he should be having in the mess hall, in full view of anyone who cared to look in his direction. He shook himself forcefully, surprised to realise that his entire body had gone rigid while his mind raced in all directions, and made himself climb to his feet. There was still some food left on his plate but if it had been unappetising before, now it was positively nausea-inducing. Mac knew he wasn’t getting any of it down his throat without it making a reappearance sooner or later, so he quietly chucked the scraps in the bin, returned his tray, and retreated to the barracks as quickly as he possibly could without drawing attention.

Two of the guys were there, both camped out on their own bunks as they occupied themselves with whatever they got up to in their downtime, but neither did more than nod in acknowledgement as he made his way past them to his own bed. Truthfully, he was glad of the pseudo-privacy. He wasn’t entirely sure what he would have done if Jack had been there – most likely he would have said something regrettable – but in his absence, Mac was free to mull over this new information without interference.

A large, loud part of him demanded that he go and find Dalton right now so they could hash this out, get it all out in the open so that at the very least Mac wouldn’t have to feel so fucking stupid for ever thinking they might have been friends. He’d seen that Jack cultivated a very deliberate amiability with the other guys sharing their bunk, even if they weren’t all on the best terms, and he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought for even a second that his Overwatch might be turning the same trick on him. He’d been so goddamn stupid .

Another, much quieter and injured part of him kept insisting that he must have gotten something twisted, connected the wrong wires to the wrong ports, and really this was all some big misunderstanding because he couldn’t bear the alternative.

He ignored them both. As much as he might want not want it to be true, he knew what he’d heard and all the pieces fit together too perfectly for him to have somehow misconstrued their meaning. His own feelings did not affect the facts, and he’d do well to remember that. And fighting with Jack wasn’t going to solve anything, it was just going to upset what little balance they managed to actually maintain. Despite his best efforts, Dalton’s transfer request had been denied so he wasn’t going anywhere for another month – Mac could grin and bear the discomfort until then, even if it meant having to sit next to a man he’d thought a friend for every single one of those twenty-eight days.

The humiliation of it all was almost unbearable, and he knew just how easy it would be to let it become rage instead – but he wouldn’t do that. If Jack wanted to leave then he wouldn’t be the first, which meant the fault almost certainly lay with Mac and there was no point trying to punish the wrong man for it. Sure, Jack pretending they were getting along was kind of a low blow, but it was understandable; they were stuck together in extremely close quarters, might as well act like they were comfortable there, right?

Maybe Jack had had the right idea all along. Mac was the one who hadn’t gotten with the programme already.

Besides, he reminded himself firmly as he bit down on the emotions threatening to get away from him, he hadn’t signed up to be sent into an active warzone to defuse explosives to feel safe . It didn’t matter one jot that Jack had managed to give him that for a time – that wasn’t his job and Mac didn’t have any right to mourn its loss. He needed to grow the fuck up and stop looking to others to protect him – he was a soldier in the US army and it was high fucking time he started acting like it.

With a tight sigh, Mac forced his stressed body to relax and flattened himself against his bunk, glaring a hole in the canvas above him.

Just twenty-eight days, and he could be done with this mess. Four weeks. He could do that.

Despite the bedlam going on inside his head, the heat and the shade must have got the best of him because he was jolted out of a doze an hour or so later by Jack Dalton himself smacking at his foot. He twitched the limb out of range with a muffled grunt of disapproval before his brain caught up with him and he remembered everything that had transpired before he fell asleep. The faux-irritated expression he’d pulled on crumbled instantly into blankness.

Jack blinked down at him, a bemused smirk on his face. Cuttingly, it was the friendliest he had looked in days. “What happened to you?”

Mac frowned, tried to do a quick mental assessment of what he probably looked like. “What?”

“You look like someone kicked your puppy. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Did you wake me up for a reason?”

His Overwatch’s smirk faded somewhat, his eyes taking on that calculating look he normally got a few seconds before he said something much smarter and more observant than Mac would ever have credited him with when they first met. It was almost a relief – focused was a much easier expression to react to than a smile. “Seriously. What’s happened?”

“ Nothing ,” Mac stressed, trying and failing to keep a thread of annoyance out of his tone. “Do you need me for something or can I go back to sleep?”

It wasn’t the right answer, evidently. Jack’s face darkened and he thinned his lips against what was very visibly going to be an annoyed outburst, but in the end all he said was, “On your feet. We’re heading out.”

That was- unusual. He cast a quick glance at the clock. “Now? It’s going to be dark in a few hours.”

“Yeah well, tell that to the T-men. C’mon, get up. I wanna roll out in five.” With that he retreated to his own bunk to retrieve his equipment and resolutely ignored Mac.

Still confused and really wishing that he could just roll over and go back to sleep if only to avoid what was obviously going to be another uncomfortable Humvee ride, Mac obligingly scrambled to his feet and started pulling out his own gear. For all the little bits and pieces of equipment they had to keep track of, both of them kept their packs ready to go at a moment’s notice, so it was really only a matter of slipping on his jacket and vest, then stopping by the mess to refill his water bottle and grab a few energy bars before Mac found himself sliding into the passenger seat of the Humvee. Apparently more prepared than he had been, Jack was already waiting for him.

“Got a bit of a situation a few klicks out,” He announced once Mac was settled. “Looks like someone’s trying to sabotage our communications – a scout team thinks they’ve found an IED on one of our radio towers. Shouldn’t be anything too complicated for you, but there’s a lot of visibility and no cover so we need to get this done ASAP, understand? The scouts are patrolling the area and I’ll have your back, but someone might try to get lucky with a sniper, so keep your head down .”

There was a lot there to work through – most importantly just what Jack meant by on the radio tower – but he didn’t bother voicing any of those questions. He’d see the situation soon enough and his priority needed to be elsewhere. “Did the scout team say what type of device we’re dealing with?”

“Negative. Couldn’t get a good look without approaching and they figured that probably wasn’t a good idea.”

They had likely been correct in that assumption, but it didn’t make Mac’s job any easier. Approaching an unidentified device was nothing new to him, but it wasn’t something that gelled well with the speed at which Jack was evidently hoping this was going to go. If he rushed anything for fear of being shot, he ran a much higher risk of blowing the pair of them up and doing the terrorists’ job for them.

As promised, it wasn’t a long trip and within ten minutes they came to a stop in the gathering gloom, about a hundred metres away from the tower in question. The 150-metre-tall tower. God, this was not going to go well.

“When you said the device was on the tower,” He started slowly, his eyes darting around the ground supports he could see and coming up blank, “You actually meant on , huh?”

Jack snickered, either not noticing or not caring about the thread of uncertainty Mac could feel in his voice. “Hope you’re ready for some climbing.” He paused, then relented slightly by adding, “We don’t have to go the whole way. Report said it was about half way up. There’s a platform for maintenance work.”

If he had noticed the apprehension, evidently he was assuming that Mac just didn’t feel like climbing up there with all his gear dragging him down. Technically he wasn’t wrong about that – he’d just missed the why. Mac wilfully held in a shudder.

“Now, normally I’d say you should wait down here while I go up and see what I can see, but given how open this is, neither of us can risk being up there that long,” Jack said, catching him with one of his no nonsense looks. Dalton might act the fool, but he was still a highly trained army sergeant and despite everything, when he gave orders, Mac would listen. “So we’re going to go up together, okay? You’re going to keep your head down and you’re going to get that device handled as quickly as you can. We’ve not got much daylight left to work with and torches are going to be a dead giveaway of our position, so unless you desperately need more light, you keep it off. Understand?”

“Got it.”

This would really be the time to tell Jack that the very thought of going up that tower was enough to make Mac feel physically nauseous – the man was his Overwatch, he needed to know when Mac couldn’t do his job – but he bit his tongue. There was a bomb somewhere up there and he was the only person in a ten klick radius who had any chance of defusing it. His personal discomfort was nothing against the lives that could be lost should their communications chain fail.

With that in mind, he slipped out of the Humvee and shadowed Jack as he strode towards the tower, not letting himself pause to think before putting his foot on the first rung of the ladder and hoisting himself up.

Here goes nothing .

Something was off with Mac. Jack couldn’t quite put his finger on it, exactly, but he was good at reading people and he’d been watching every single move his bomb nerd made for a solid month now so he had a pretty good idea when something wasn’t right. Right now, hunched over a bomb 250 feet in the air, something was very definitely not okay .

The kid had been quiet for days, wrapped up in his own head about something or other judging by the deeply thoughtful face he’d been wearing, but it had meshed well enough with Jack’s own pisspoor mood that he hadn’t bothered to question it. Mac hadn’t seemed anything more than a little subdued, something any soldier downwind was bound to encounter now and again. Their work was hard and the constant threat of danger could weigh anyone down given enough time. Now though? Now it seemed like more.

Admittedly, the whole bomb-250-feet-in-the-air situation might have been a contributing factor, but Mac had faced down hundreds of IEDs in their time together and he’d never once flinched. Whether he was the bravest man Jack had ever met or he just genuinely had no regard for his own wellbeing was something Jack was still trying to figure out, but the point was, he shouldn’t be acting like this. The situation was far from perfect and every second they spent on that tower had Jack’s anxiety levels ratcheting up, but Mac had always kept a level head.

“How’s it coming over there?”

Mac let out a low grumble of sound, his usual stand-in for when he had too many things going on in his head to worry about actual words.

“That well, huh? Well, in case you hadn’t noticed, we’re running out of daylight so if you wanna-”

“Rushing me isn’t helping,” Mac interrupted before Jack had a chance to finish, carefully pulling a now-disconnected wire from the bundle he had been examining.

“Ain’t trying to rush you, just letting you know-”

“Yeah, well, it’s not helping.”

Jack had worked with plenty of EOD techs who would have given him that response and it would have been the most normal thing in the world. With Mac, it was a glaring red flag. Well, that, as well as the fact that Mac hadn’t even bothered to correct Jack’s repeated assertions that they were perched on a radio mast, when he knew good and well it was actually a telecommunications tower. Momentarily lifting his head away from his rifle scope, trusting that the scouts could hold the fort for the next minute or two, Jack turned to stare at his partner. “What’s going on man?”

“I’m concentrating .”

“I’ve seen you concentrating plenty. That’s not what this is. C’mon, you’ve been weird since this afternoon – is this about the other day? ‘Cause I didn’t mean to snap at you and I’m sorry about that, but right now I need to know that you’re good to do this job.”

Mac huffed a sharp breath out of his nose in frustration, his eyes not leaving the place where he was carefully prying apart the panels of the device’s container. It wasn’t until then that Jack finally noticed the way the kid’s shoulders were up around his ears, his whole body rigid where he was hunched over. His hands didn’t shake in the slightest – a necessity in his line of work – but the rest of him was shuddering with fine tremors.

“Mac-” Jack started, alarms blaring to life in his head. He’d known something was wrong , but clearly he had deeply misjudged just how wrong until he’d actually taken the time to look. Goddamn, he was supposed to the kid’s fucking Overwatch! “I need you to talk to me man.”

There was no response so Jack put his eye back to his scope for another quick scan of the surrounding landscape – still as barren and unoccupied as before – before sliding the rifle strap back over his shoulder and turning fully to face his partner. He was far too well versed in working with EOD to ever touch Mac when he had his hands on an IED, but he only had to wait a few seconds before Mac backed up to fiddle with the tools on his knife and he was free to snatch him by the shoulder and forcibly turn him around.

“Jack, what-”

“Something’s going on with you and we are in way too dangerous a position right now for me to not know what it is so start fucking talking to me Mac.” The shoulder under his hand was rock solid with stress and the kid’s face looked bone pale in the fading light. What really grabbed his attention though was the way Mac had shot out his free hand to snatch blindly at the handrail beside him, anchoring himself where Jack had pulled him off balance. Coupling that with the sudden dart of Mac’s eyes to the yawning chasm of the drop beside them, it wasn’t exactly complicated math. “You’re afraid of heights,” he murmured with sudden realisation, his grip on Mac faltering in the face of his own surprise.

Mac’s expression twisted with some combination of resignation and guilt. “I’m doing fine. Just let me get this thing defused and we can all go home, yeah?”

“You’re afraid of heights and you didn’t think this was important information for me to know before now?” If he hadn’t still been sitting half an inch from an active explosive device, Jack would have shaken him.

“ Jack ,” Mac said, apparently also running to the end of his patience, “I’m fine. I’ve almost got this done and I really, really want to get down from here, so can you please just let me do my job while you worry about yours?”

“Looking out for you is my job, dumbass,” Jack snapped back, but he did at least let go of him and return to his post. As much as he might hate everything about this, the fact was that Mac was already here and there was an IED in desperate need of attention right in front of him. Getting that fixed and getting Mac back on the ground pronto had just become priority uno. “Work fast.”

With the dusk drawing in, it made sense to switch out his scope for the thermal one he’d thoughtfully decided to bring with him, though it did mean he’d have to zero the thing before it would be of much use to him. Then again, any shots ran the risk of drawing attention and from so high up, the sound could travel for miles without hitting anything. He held up the loose thermal scope to his eye while he mulled over the problem, making note of the scouts’ positions and checking any obvious spots for potential shooters. Still nothing.

“I’m not rushing you,” he said lowly, “But do you know what kind of timeframe we’re looking at here?”

Mac hummed absently. “Couple more minutes I think. Starting to need light though.”

Which really only meant they needed to get this over with as soon as possible, for Mac’s sake if nothing else. Jack slid the thermal scope back into its slot on his vest and tugged free the square of tarp attached to his pack. Its official use was to give him something to lie on should he need it when settling into a sniper nest, but right now it was of far more use to both of them as a light break.

“This thing isn’t going to go off if I tuck this around you both, is it?” He asked, holding the tarp where Mac could see it.

Even scared out of his mind and all but shaking with it, Mac caught onto the idea in a heartbeat. “No, we’re good. Just make sure you don’t jostle it.”

Jack did as he was bid, carefully constructing a makeshift tent around Mac and the device so he could use a torch without broadcasting his exact location to anyone in a five-mile radius. It wasn’t perfect, certainly, and from the way Mac’s breathing hitched ever so slightly the confinement was doing nothing for his nerves, but it would have to do for now. That taken care of and trusting that Mac could get on with things without further assistance, Jack returned to his rifle and performed another sweeping check of the area.

Still deserted. A quick check-in with the scouts reaffirmed his conclusion.

It was strange that someone had felt the need to climb up here to plant an IED and then hadn’t even bothered to hang around to see the fruit of their labours, but it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. It would hardly be the first time a would-be bomber had seen the US army rolling in and got the hell out of dodge. Regardless, Jack couldn’t help but count the seconds until he was free to get his infuriating EOD technician back into actual, honest-to-god cover.

“How’s that vertigo treating you?” He asked, more to distract his own mind from the sudden, crippling mental image of Mac being taken out by a sniper bullet Jack had no chance of stopping than out of any genuine curiosity. Mac wasn’t going to be happy until he had his feet back on terra firma, that much was clear.

“If you’re trying to help, stop. It’s not working,” was the irate reply.

Despite the gravity of their situation – literally – Jack snickered. “You’re mean as a snake when you’re uncomfortable, aren’t you?”

Mac didn’t bother responding to the dig at all. It could be down to his discomfort at their current predicament, but Jack’s instincts were warning him that there was something more going on here and he’d long since learned to trust his gut when it was trying to tell him something. Another anxious look over his shoulder revealed nothing more than that his tarp tent was mostly doing its job of stopping light spilling out into the growing darkness.

His normal go-to technique for prompting Mac to open up was teasing, but evidently that wasn’t going to get him anywhere this time. Certainly not when they were still so high in the air. Perhaps this was a conversation better saved for when the device was defused and they were back safe in the Humvee on the way back to base; at the very least, Mac couldn’t escape him that way.

Right on cue, the faint glow of Mac’s torch snapped off and his blonde head poked up out of his mini tent. “We’re good.”

“Defused?”

“Yeah. Explosives are still a risk though – we can’t leave them up here.”

Jack eyed the bulky shape still hiding beneath the tarp. “Getting that thing down isn’t going to be easy, kid.”

Mac might have scowled at that, but in the dwindling light it was hard to be sure. “I know that, but no clean-up crew is going to be getting out here until tomorrow morning and a well-placed incendiary round could still set this thing off. I can’t leave it.”

“Okay, okay, I getcha,” Jack soothed. “How’re we doing this then?”

“I can take it apart. Split the weight and the bulk between us. Nothing’s motion or impact sensitive any more so we don’t need to be that careful.”

Jack obligingly slipped off his pack and pushed it in Mac’s direction, trusting him to have a better idea of how they could get everything down safely and instead using the time to dismantle the makeshift rest he’d constructed. Attuned to each other as they were, it was the work of mere moments.

In the interests of getting Mac out of the line of fire – and back on the ground – as fast as possible, Jack ushered him down the ladder ahead of him while he radioed the scouts to fill them in. They returned a chorus of relieved gratitude and promised to maintain their position until Mac and Jack were well on their way out of there, making sure that whoever had set the device in the first place didn’t come back to try again. Already feeling exhausted and knowing he had a debrief waiting for him back on base, aside from whatever the hell was going on with his bomb tech, Jack wrestled down a sigh, and started making his way down the ladder.

He was pleasantly surprised to find Mac waiting for him at the bottom. Jack had long ago implemented a rule that Mac was to stick to his side like glue whenever they were moving in potentially hostile territory, but with whatever was going on with the kid, he hadn’t entirely expected it to hold. That it had was encouraging.

“Alright, let’s- get out of here,” Jack announced on reaching the ground, only just managing to cut himself off from saying ‘blow this joint’ . Mac might normally appreciate the gallows humour, but now was almost certainly not the time.

As if to demonstrate that point, Mac just nodded silently and fell into step just behind his Overwatch without a word.

One of the scouts had been keeping watch over their ride to make sure no one left them any nasty surprises while they were otherwise occupied, though he melted into the shadows of the night as soon as they reappeared. Comforted in the knowledge that he didn’t have to waste any more of his evening waiting for Mac to do a trap check, Jack gratefully folded himself back behind the driving seat and heaved a great sigh of relief. Mac twitched at the sound, but said nothing.

In deference to their shared fatigue, Jack let the silence reign for a solid minute before he broached the subject. “So,” he started slowly, “I get the feeling you and I need to talk.”

Mac’s eyes flicked to him too quickly to be casual, but still he stayed silent. Well, if that was the game he wanted to play, he was damn well going to have to listen, wasn’t he?

“Let’s start by saying that you not telling me about the heights thing was reckless as all hell man, and I mean really, really stupid.” He did what he could to keep the anger out of his voice, but did nothing to soften the seriousness of his tone. For their partnership to work then they needed to be able to trust each other with their flaws and weaknesses; without that, they wouldn’t stand a chance. “You gotta tell me when there’s something going on that’s going to affect your ability to do your thing, no matter what it is. It doesn’t matter if you think it’s something small or unimportant, you have to fill me in. I’m not going to judge you for it if that’s what you’re worried about, but the only way I can do my job is if you’re honest with me. You get what I’m saying to you?”

The blonde was back to his usual sullen trick of staring straight out of the windshield, seemingly seeing nothing, but he did at least incline his head. Even when they’d first been starting out, he hadn’t been this difficult.

“Right. Well. If that’s out of the way, you planning on telling me what’s going on in that head of yours? Something’s been bothering you since this afternoon and clearly it’s important. Fill me in?”

Mac’s forcefully blank expression momentarily fractured into a frown before he got it back under control. “I’m fine Jack. Just tired. I wasn’t expecting to get called out again tonight.”

That was a reasonable excuse, except for the fact he was clearly lying. “Yeah, I’m not buying that. Didn’t I just get done telling you that you needed to let me know when something was going on with you? Whatever this is, I’m pretty sure it qualifies.”

The frown reappeared and didn’t immediately melt away again. Annoyance wasn’t exactly what Jack was aiming for, but at least he was getting a response. “I think I just proved that I’m perfectly capable of doing my job.”

Jack couldn’t help the sharp sigh that escaped him as frustration started to seep into his bones. Clearly he’d miscalculated just how far from alright Mac really was in that moment. Maybe he should have been paying better attention over the last few days after all; well, lesson learned, at least. “I know you are man,” he tried as gently as he was able. “That’s not what I’m getting at. But something’s clearly thrown you off your game and I want to help if I can, okay? This job’s rough enough at the best of times; you don’t need t’be adding to the pile.”

If Mac recognised that for the olive branch it was, he made no sign of it. His only outward reaction was to return his eyes firmly to the windshield and clench his hands together to keep himself from fiddling with a piece of wire he’d been worrying at since they started driving. There was a long, strained pause; Jack desperately wanted to press the matter, but he knew Mac well enough to know that trying would only shut him down further. If Mac didn’t want to share whatever was going on in his head, then he wouldn’t – it was as simple as that.

Fortunately for Jack though, Mac had never seemed all that comfortable with expectant silences. “It’s nothing. I’m just working through something in my head. Don’t worry about it.”

“Mac… Is this about the other day? ‘Cause I meant what I said up there; I’m sorry I lost my temper. It wasn’t ‘cause of anything you did-”

“Look,” Mac said with sudden force, dispensing of his heretofore unconvincing meekness and turning to put Jack directly into his sightline. “I get it. It’s fine. I’m sorry your request got denied but it’s- We’re both stuck here, okay? We’ve got four weeks left and then you can get back home and put all of this behind you. We’ve just gotta get through one more month.”

For the first time in a very, very long time, Jack was stunned into utter silence. Mac apparently took his frozen expression for one of acceptance and turned back to stare straight ahead with a sharp nod, as though they’d come to some sort of arrangement. Jack, for his part, did his best not to crash the Humvee into a ditch as the bottom of his stomach dropped away.

Then he rethought quickly; to have this conversation he definitely needed to be able to keep his eyes on his partner and driving wasn’t exactly conducive to that. He hit the brakes and pulled over. Mac chirped in surprise.

“Okay, woah, hold on,” Jack started, turning bodily to face the man beside him. “Let’s slow it down real quick because I think I’ve missed something here. What are you talking about man?”

Mac blinked at him like he was the one acting weird. “What?”

“What what?”

The blonde scowled faintly, but it wasn’t entirely clear if it was actually directed at Jack. Regardless, he relented with a sigh. “I heard about your transfer request getting shot down. I’m guessing that’s why you were so pissed off? Well, I’m sorry about it. You shouldn’t be stuck with me if you don’t want to be.”

A lot of things suddenly made a lot of sense. Jack could have kicked himself – he would certainly have deserved it. “That’s not- You’ve not heard the whole truth there, man. Shit I’m sorry, it’s-” He bit down hard on his tongue and forced himself to get the words in order. Mac seemed willing to take his stumbling apology as an embarrassed confirmation of the story he’d so readily believed and to be honest, Jack could hardly blame him.

“It isn’t what it sounds like, I promise you,” he said carefully. “I didn’t tell you about the request and that was stupid, but I swear I wasn’t trying to get away from you.”

Mac snorted very softly, a grim smile playing at the corner of his mouth for a moment before he choked it down. In all their time together, Jack had never seen him look so bitter.

“I mean it. I don’t know what you heard, but the request was for both of us.” That got Mac’s head snapping up to stare at him in visible confusion. Jack’s chest clenched painfully with emotion he didn’t want to put a name to. “I heard a rumour we’re being shunted to Paktia to shore up the EOD team in Gardez. They’ve taken some heavy hits lately and want more hands on deck.”

Mac’s brow was furrowed, clearly not entirely trusting what he was hearing but at least willing to listen. Given the circumstances, Jack was surprised he was even allowing that much. “And you didn’t want to go?”

“Hell no,” Jack said instantly. “The Gardez boys might need help but I don’t want to put you within a hundred miles of that place. Ghazni ain’t been kind to you, but at least it hasn’t blown your fool head off; worst we’ve had to deal with here is individual cells trying to make things difficult. Paktia’s crawling with T-men.”

“All the more reason we should be there, helping.”

“Yeah, and what happens in a month when I ship out and you’re stuck there without me to watch your back, huh? I don’t know who your new Overwatch is gonna be and if I can’t be sure they’re gonna have your back, I want to at least try to keep you as safe as I can while I’m here. I put in the request to shift us to Wardak instead. It ain’t safe there either, but it would have given you a cleaner run at things.” He huffed, remembering the raging argument he’d had with the Captain when his request had been denied. Looking back, he’d been lucky to walk away without disciplinary action but he didn’t regret it for a second. “’Course, none of that matters now, since we’re heading to Gardez regardless.”

He forced himself to meet Mac’s eyes and tried not to flinch at the calculating look being shot back at him. Evidently his partner needed a moment to work out whether or not Jack was lying to him to try to save face and that-

-That hurt. It was fair, completely fair , given that Jack had given him exactly no heads up about what was happening before going behind his back to try to rearrange his life without permission, but it was still crushing to realise how badly he’d fucked up. Their start together had been rocky, to say the least, but Mac had a kind of honest goodness about him that made him impossible to dislike after about thirty minutes of knowing him. Put together with his dry humour, endless patience, and his literal, honest-to-god genius, and Jack hadn’t stood a chance of not befriending the kid. It was somewhat convenient that it was Jack’s job to watch Mac’s back, because he had the sense he’d want to spend every second he could trying to protect him.

Then again, that’s what the transfer request had been about and look how that had all turned out. God, he was such a fucking idiot.

“I should have told you all of this before I did anything, I know that. I’m really sorry for it, and I’m even more sorry that you ended up finding out the way you did. That was shitty and you didn’t deserve it for a second. But I promise you, none of it had anything to do with me not wanting to be here.”

There was a pause while Mac’s face did something complicated, then he asked quietly, “You weren’t trying to get away from me?”

“Not for a single second, kid. I would never.”

It was the honest truth and yet Jack knew instinctively that it wasn’t going to sink in in the way he wished it would. Mac hadn’t talked about home all that much in their time together, and what he had let slip had some gaping holes where family should have been; Jack was good enough at hearing what people weren’t saying to understand that at some point, someone had let the kid down badly. Now, apparently, he had to add his own name to that list.

This was all such a goddamn mess .

Whether or not he bought Jack’s attempt at reassurance, Mac did at least appear to accept the truth of his account with a small, thoughtful nod. To be honest, even if he hadn’t believed it, this was something Jack could easily prove once they were back at base by digging out the request file, but it was comforting to know that he hadn’t screwed up so badly Mac couldn’t take him at his word.

“Okay,” Mac said softly, still frowning thoughtfully but no longer twisted up with bitterness and hurt. “Okay. I understand. Sorry for leaping to conclusions, I guess.”

“You ain’t got nothing to be sorry for,” Jack replied instantly. This was not the kid’s burden to bear. “I should have told you. You have every right to be pissed as hell about it, even knowing the truth.”

“That’s not- It’s fine,” Mac said haltingly, not meeting Jack’s eyes. “I appreciate you looking out for me.”

Jack watched him for a long minute as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, taking in all the tiny little signs of distress he should have noticed days ago. It was only now that he was really looking that he could see how fucking exhausted he looked. Like the whole world had come crashing down on him and he was still trying to soldier on under its weight like nothing was wrong.

“Man, I really fucked up, huh?” He murmured quietly. Mac’s gaze twitched to him and away. Louder, he said, “I let you down and I’m sorry for that. I promise, no more secrets.”

There was a pause, then Mac seemed to decide something because he turned to look at him properly again. “That mean you’re going to tell me what you’ve been up to the last couple of days?” At Jack’s blink of surprise, he actually managed the shadow of a smile, despite everything that had happened. “What? You think just because I’m not Overwatch I’m not paying attention?”

Jack couldn’t help but grin at the spark of life returning to his partner’s tone. Of course he’d noticed when Jack had made himself scarce around the FOB. “I watch you and you watch me, huh? Should have known.” He shook his head ruefully. “Well, in that case, if you really want to know, I’ve been hitting up my contacts.”

Mac’s eyebrows rose. Jack rubbed at the back of his neck self-consciously.

“Yeah, yeah, I know I’m just a grunt but I know some people okay? I figured that if I couldn’t get us reassigned from Gardez, at least I could rope in someone I trust to replace me when I’m gone. No one’s as good as me, o’course, but it would be something at least.”

It took Mac a moment to digest that, as if trying to work out what he should react to first. In the end, he settled on, “I don’t think you’re a grunt.”

That was news to him. “No?”

Mac’s smile was a careful thing, like he wasn’t sure this was something he was allowed. “You play a good game, but you know way too much about- well, everything to not have been through something more than bootcamp.”

Jack should have known that he couldn’t get anything by a kid as smart as Mac obviously was, but he was still struck with a quiet swell of pride at how easily his EOD had figured him out.

“Plus, you know you’re by far the highest ranked Overwatch sniper on base? There can’t be many sergeants electing to watch bomb nerds day in and day out.”

There was an obvious question in there, but Mac was still too unsure of the situation to ask him straight up who he’d managed to piss off to get lumped with babysitting duty. And, honestly, that was a whole can of worms that Jack really didn’t want to dig into right now – or ever, really. Instead, he deflected. “Oh? That almost sounded like a compliment. You been checking out my record?”

“No. But if I did, I’d be surprised if most of it wasn’t redacted. Am I wrong?”

He definitely wasn’t. Jack’s smile was sharp as he started up the Humvee again. “You sound like you have some idea already.”

It was a clear invitation and, with only a slight hesitation, Mac took it. “You’re observant in a way that has to be taught. You seem too well travelled for it to not have been international, so I’m guessing CIA. Then there’s the tactical stuff – command wouldn’t ask for your opinion unless you’d been involved in something important. Putting that with that team of yours you sometimes mention without meaning to, I’m guessing you were special forces of some description. That’d explain the rank too.” He hummed thoughtfully. “Still doesn’t explain why you’re stuck watching me though.”

Jack whistled in surprise. Evidently Mac had been paying much more attention than he’d given him credit for. “I’m not stuck doing anything,” he protested lightly. “I like working Overwatch; it’s more relaxing than most gigs.”

Mac shot him a wry smile. “So I’m right then?”

He chuckled easily, letting the strain of their earlier conversation start to bleed out of his shoulders as they settled back into their usual patter. He hadn’t realised until right then just how much he’d missed it and from the way Mac was leaning back in his seat, he was thinking much the same. “About pretty much everything,” he confirmed. “You’re far too smart for your own good, you know that right?”

There was a pause. “You aren’t going to tell me what branch of the special forces you were in, are you?”

“You’re a smart kid,” he said with a broad smile. “You’ll work it out.”

The scene I didn't write is in a few weeks, after Mac's done some thinking and some very careful asking around and he sidles up to Jack one afternoon and very quietly says 'Delta'. Jack smiles, says 'Hooah', and neither of them mention it again.

#MacGyver #angus macgyver #jack dalton #sandbox fic #sandbox #army days #fanfiction #my fanfic #Everyone's OOO but it's for the angst #let me have my angst #Mac and Jack

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years ago

Text

Day 27: Intrulogical (TW)

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 27 - Your eyes match your soulmate’s hair color. If they dye their hair, your eyes change colors.

TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!!! Attempted rape (by unnamed OC), drugging, implied underage drinking (though none is actually seen), emetophobia/vomiting, Halloween, alcohol, characters being tipsy/drunk, parties. Happy/satisfying ending.

Word count: 4.7k

Logan lived his life based on routine. In a world of constant change, it felt comforting to always know what his next step was. His mornings always started the same; wake up at seven o’clock sharp, sneak to the dorm bathroom in an attempt to not wake his essentially nocturnal roommate, and brush his teeth. Wet the toothbrush, pea sized amount of toothpaste, wet the brush again, and start on the left side of his mouth. Brush for exactly two minutes, wash face, and then attempt to calm down the bedhead. He’d sneak back into the room, change silently, and then make his way to the shared kitchen to make cereal for breakfast. The only variable in his routine was which fruit he’d eat along with his Cheerios. Then he’d triple check that all of his homework was packed properly, and head off to his morning class.

Except today.

For someone who rarely got distracted from his normal routine, he was surprisingly still as he glared, shocked, into his reflection. Water still dripped off his face and all over the counter, but he couldn’t tear his attention from it. Because his normally dark brown eyes were now neon green.

“Are you kidding me?!” He yelled before he could stop himself, storming back into their room and dropping back onto his bed.

“What’s’it?” Virgil mumbled, lifting his exhausted face from where they’d been smooshed into the pillows. Logan spun his face up towards the top bunk, jaw clenched, and gestured towards his eyes.

“I have a presentation today!” Logan continued, looking away from Virgil’s failed attempt to cover a smile, “And I look ridiculous! No one will take me seriously!”

“Just in time for Halloween, I guess. They just look like contacts.”

“Hallow-” Logan sprung to his desk to look at his calendar accusingly, groaning when he realized it was in fact the thirty first. “Ugh, I have a paper due tomorrow!”

“Don’t tell me you’re backing out of the party now, Lo. I already promised people I’d go, and I’m not going alone.”

“I won’t back out of the party,” Logan grumbled, crossing his arms. Virgil gave a satisfied hum, flopping back into his comforter. When he spoke again, his voice was muffled.

“Out of all people, I’m surprised you forgot.”

“So sue me, if a frivolous game of promiscuous dress up comes after passing my classes in the list of importance.”

The emo snorted. “What’s your costume gonna be?”

“I am not wearing a costume!” Logan’s voice was almost offended.

“You already look like a traffic light. Might as well complete the look.”

Logan grumbled angrily, marching back toward the bathroom to finish getting ready. “I’m not wearing a costume. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Aw, c’mon, Lo. For me?”

That stopped Logan in his tracks. He spun around and took a careful breath, glaring down his overly pleased roommate. “Fine. Just for you.”

Virgil gave another satisfied hum, before squinting his eyes at Logan scrutinizingly. “I wonder if your eyes glow in the dark. Can you imagine if the prof turns the lights off for a presentation and-”

“UUUGGHHH!” Logan yowled as he slammed the bathroom door shut, shaking his head at Virgil’s snickers.

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

They were meeting up at the party at the end of classes (right about when Virgil tended to wake up), so Logan headed there directly after his final class, just as the evening sun was fading behind the horizon. It was already packed with people already picking the snack and drinks table bare, a lopsided sign that said ‘21+ only’ forgotten near an empty beer box. If Logan were to assume correctly, the sign was only there to assuage the conscience of whoever was hosting tonight, and not actually to stop the underage drinking. Even if he was above legal drinking age, he still didn’t experience many of the positives of drinking, so he grabbed a can of iced tea and stood next to a wall to wait for Virgil.

It hadn’t been a full five minutes before a man sidled up to him, sipping from a half empty beer bottle and watching Logan with a careful eye. He didn’t spare so much as a glance in return, barely acknowledging the newcomer’s presence.

“What’s a wallflower like you doing at a rager like this?” He drawled with an almost audible impish smile.

“If this is considered a rager, I’d hate to see what a calm party looks like.”

“Aw, we just haven’t gotten started yet! We’re fueling up for when the moon comes out. And you haven’t answered my question, flower.”

“I’m simply waiting for a friend.”

“Oh, and does this friend have a name?” He purred.

Frustrated, Logan turned to the man, and promptly froze. Looking down at him with pitch black eyes was a person in a costume he couldn’t recognize; a black and white striped suit that looked like he’d raked it through dust, and a mold green tie. The stubble on his face could have been his own five o’clock shadow or makeup, but it only functioned to make him look far hotter than what was fair. What was most shocking though, and Logan was baffled that he’d missed it in the initial approach, was the mop of electric-shock-straight neon green hair on his head.

“He- I don’t-”

“Didn’t take you for the type to get flustered,” The man snorted, taking another sip. “What do you have? Aw, iced tea? And not even spiked? A crime.”

How did he not see Logan’s eyes? The hair was the exact same color; Logan would know. He’d spend the whole day watching his reflection, hoping that his soulmate would have some mercy and dye their hair back to its original color. Neon green was not exactly the most subtle color, and he had not missed the snickers or silent glances from his classmates and professors all day. So the question remained, why wasn’t this guy saying anything?

“I don’t drink. I tend to just become lethargic when I do.” He answered instead, gripping his can a little tighter. It took far too much effort to keep his voice from straining.

“Fair enough. I’m not pressuring you to drink, no worries. At least we’ll have one sober mind at this party tonight.” The taller man winked at him, flashing him that stupidly stunning smile again.

But then it occurred to Logan as he kept searching the man’s dark eyes desperately. His eyes were too dark, almost pitch black, while Logan’s hair was several shades lighter. So... there was no way they were soulmates. Just as quickly as the hope had exploded in his stomach, it dissipated, leaving him feeling more exhausted than usual. Stupid feelings.

“Logan, there you are!” An unusually loud voice called through his stupor and he spun around to see Virgil’s fanged smile. In the back of his mind, he remembered watching Virgil putting together his elaborate vampire costume over the last few weeks, but he’d never seen the full thing put together until now. “Ah, and Remus found you. Scram, Beetlejuice.”

Remus, apparently, didn’t seem at all offended by the jab. Instead, he seemed to smile wider. “Nice to see you too, emo. Is that any way to treat the host of the party?”

To Logan’s surprise, Virgil smiled too. “Oh, shut up. You’re going to give Logan a heart attack.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, Dracula. Why don’t you go get a drink, and I’ll keep him company?”

“Nuh uh. No way. Not leaving him with you any longer than I have already.” With that, Virgil hooked his arm through Logan’s and led him back to the drink table.

“Remember, Virgil, drinks are only for the big kids!”

“I’m older than you are!” He flipped the bird over Logan’s shoulder to the host, earning a barked laugh in response. “He never lets me forget I’m a whole three inches shorter than him.”

“You know the host of the party?”

Virgil hummed in response, pouring himself a cup of punch that reeked of alcohol. “How else would I get invited? We were in English together in third year, and I haven’t been able to shake him since. He’s like a leech.”

“You seem friendly with him.”

The elder froze, solo cup barely touching his lips as he looked over Logan slowly. “Everything okay? You’re not usually this… quiet.” They could both tell it wasn’t the word he’d wanted to use.

For a brief moment, Logan considered telling Virgil about his brief flair of hope, about how for a single second he’d felt nothing but relief and desire and elation, and how it had been ripped away from him just as quickly. But then he realized that, no, Virgil didn’t need that to bring down the mood of the first party he’d attended in a year, since his anxiety had flared. If it still bothered him after the party, he’d bring it up. That was unlikely, though. Logan was especially gifted in the art of repression.

“I’m just a tad out of my element. Nothing to worry about,” he responded with a smile. Virgil didn’t fall for it, if the way he watched Logan as he sipped his drink was anything to go off of, but he did them both the favor of not pushing it. For now.

“I thought I told you to wear a costume,” Virgil gasped as he drained the cup, immediately refilling it from the same bowl.

“I did.” Logan gestured towards the single piece of paper taped to his white shirt. It took Virgil a moment to squint through the darkening light to make-out the black sharpie, reading allowed.

“‘Error 404, Costume Not Found.’ That does not count, Logan!” He laughed nonetheless, just as a deep bass filled the house. Apparently, the party had begun. He didn’t have a good argument for Virgil’s accusation, since he technically thought it very much did count, but arguing with the other was a waste of time. The two men were equally matched in the stubbornness department.

The lights disappeared for a good few seconds before the house was illuminated in strobe lights, and the music’s volume exploded. Virgil laughed giddily; apparently his plan to get buzzed before the party could give him anxiety was intentional.

“They do, ya know.”

Logan looked at him in confusion, and shouted over the roaring music. “What?”

“Your eyes! They do glow in the dark!”

“Shut up!”

“You look like a glowstick!” He began to giggle wildly, leaning on Logan for support.

“No more drinks for a good half hour, Virge,” Logan chided gently, replacing his solo cup with a water bottle from the table. Virgil whined but plucked out his vampire fangs so he could drink from the small spout easier.

“Let’s dance,” Virgil said, grabbing Logan’s arm and leading him into the crowd.

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

Logan guessed it was well past midnight when Virgil tugged on his arm for the third time, leaning close to his ear and shouting that he had to go to the bathroom.

“Again?!” Logan called back at the vampire’s back. There was no malice in his words, not when he knew Virgil had been anxious to go to this party and he tended to drink more water when he was anxious. It was just all coming back for revenge now.

To Logan’s delight, the excitement of the party had started to push out the event from earlier. His mood was no longer dampened by the let down of what he thought was meeting his soulmate, and he could finally enjoy the one event he allowed himself to go to this semester. School was important, but he allowed this for Virgil. He hadn’t expected himself to have a good time as well.

It wasn’t even a minute after Virgil had left that there was a loud shout and Logan was jostled harshly to the side, the front of his shirt immediately soaking red from the cup of punch spilled on him. His own drink clattered to the floor.

“Shit, babe, I’m so sorry!” A man Logan didn’t recognize started to pat at his chest with a handful of tissues, an action that for some reason caused the smaller man to cringe.

“No worries. It was bound to happen eventually. Perhaps a white shirt wasn’t my smartest idea,” He responded sharply, taking the tissues from the other and dabbing himself off to the best of his abilities. Slightly relieved that he now had a valid reason, he ripped off his poor attempt at a costume and crumpled up the soaking wet paper in the hand not trying in vain to dry himself. Despite Logan obviously being uninterested, the taller man stayed where he was, watching Logan’s actions with fierce intensity. His lip curled as his eyes trailed down the now nearly see-through shirt.

“If you wanted, I could get that shirt off of you. Fool around, give it some time to dry?”

“I’m so flattered,” Logan deadpanned, “But no thanks.”

“Aw, too bad,” The man cooed, shrugging. His demeanor did a full one-eighty, his predatory gaze replaced with innocence, “Was worth a try. Let me at least get you a new drink, since I ruined your other one.”

“That’s not necessary-”

“I insist.” He laid a hand on Logan’s shoulder, causing a tingling cold to spread through his whole body. The smaller man barely contained a shudder as the man gave him another wolf like grin before disappearing into the crowd towards the drinks table.

Logan was hoping he’d forgotten, and just wouldn’t come back, but the man reappeared in moments, popping open a pink lemonade and handing it to him.

“Saw your other drink was non-alcoholic, so I got the only other one left.”

“Uhm…” Logan looked critically at the can, his alarm bells flaring. But… he’d seen the man open it, right? So it’s not as if he could have done something to it. Perhaps this guy really did have the right intentions, just an iffy way of showing them. “Thank you.”

He took a sip as the man smiled with too much teeth. “So, are you here alone?”

“No,” Logan responded a little less coolly, “I’m here with a friend. He just went to the bathroom.” Another sip.

“Oh, that’s fun! Are you guys in the same year?”

“Yes. We are both fourth years.” The man was acting kinder, and Logan was starting to consider that perhaps their initial meeting had been a misunderstanding on his part. Maybe he had just wanted to help out, but Logan, being cynical as always, had assumed the worst. Wasn’t that just like him, though? Always so quick to conclusions, ruining good things before they have a chance to happen. Trying to chase away his annoyance with himself and the bitter taste it had left on his tongue, he took a longer swig of the can.

“Hey, me too! I’m an English major, what about you?”

“Business with an astronomy minor.”

“That sounds difficult. How many semester hours are you clocking at right now?”

“I… uhm…” And for the life of him, he couldn’t remember. It was a high number, he knew for sure. He shook his head. “Fifteen, sixteen? Maybe seventeen?”

The man whistled. “Damn, impressive. Remind me of your name, again?”

Had he told him in the first place? “Logan.”

“And what brings a studious man such as yourself to a party like this?”

“My- My friend.” Logan couldn’t help shake his head again, hoping the fog in his mind would scatter. That’s what he got, staying out this late when his sleep schedule was usually so precise. “He doesn’t like… parties. So he asked…” He blinked hard a couple times, finding himself swaying on his feet. “He asked me…”

“Hey, are you okay?” The man placed his hand on his arm in an ironclad grip, holding him steady, “Logan, can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I… Dizzy,” He murmured, reaching up blearily and grabbing onto him.

“Are you dehydrated? Maybe you should drink some more.”

What were the symptoms of dehydration again? Dizziness, check. Fatigue, check. Confusion, check. Thirst? Yeah, he could drink something, but he’d been drinking all night, so why…

The can dropped from his hand, the second one tonight, and he tried weakly to pull away. Instead of letting him go, the man pulled him closer, wrapping an arm bruisingly tight around his waist.

“You… you drugged-”

“You don’t look so good, Logan. Let’s get you upstairs so you can lie down, yeah?”

“No, I don’t…” He was unable to escape, barely able to keep his feet under him, as the man started dragging him to the stairs. Where the hell is Virgil? Logan could feel tears pricking his eyes as his breathing hitched, and for the first time in years, he felt real panic. This couldn’t be happening. This isn’t-

“Let him the fuck go!”

A voice distinctly not Virgil’s shouted over the music, and Logan didn’t even dare hope it’s directed at the man still clutching him. His luck would never be that good. But through his blurry vision, a pin striped blob with a mess of green hair breaks through the crowd, marching distinctly up to them.

“He came here with me.” Logan could just make out the stronger man’s words through his dizzied state. “He just had a bit too much to drink. I’m going to let him lay down.”

“Like hell you are. Give him to me.”

“How dare you-”

“Logan. Doesn’t. Drink. And I know who he came here with.” Remus snarled, edging towards the duo threateningly, “Now let go of him before I break your fucking jaw.”

With almost as much physical relief as emotional, the man finally released his painful hold on Logan and shoved his way through the crowd, the distant shouts of inconvenienced partygoers near the door the only signal that he’d completely left.

For all his effort, Logan couldn’t hold himself up and collapsed. At first the feeling of strong arms picking him up bridal style caused him to panic and he lashed out, feebly hitting the chest of whoever was holding him. Realizing they were now walking up the stairs, the same place the other man had been pulling him, caused his breath to hitch in his throat.

“Woah there, Lo. You’re okay. It’s just me, it’s Remus, okay? Take a deep breath, just relax. I won’t hurt you.”

For some reason that Logan couldn’t fathom, the words calmed him down. Somewhere, Logan acknowledged that even though Virgil had known Remus for a while, Logan had only talked to him for a total of five minutes, and he probably shouldn’t trust an essential stranger when he’s like this. He’s just too tired to fight though, no matter how his adrenaline is pumping.

“V’rg’l,” Logan whimpered, clutching Remus' shirt with all the strength of a wet leaf, “W’nt h’m.”

“I’ll get Virgil as soon as you’re safe, okay? Don’t worry,” Remus’ soothing voice rumbled through Logan from where he was pressed to the taller’s chest, making his eyelids flutter. His arms felt like over boiled pasta and his stomach was doing flips, but Remus’ voice broke through the fog he was in and settled him in a way he hadn’t felt before. Maybe it was the drugs.

“We’re at the top of the stairs now, okay? I’ll take you to my room, since it’s the only one with a lock. So we know there won’t be any horny college kids in there, making a mess of my sheets. Gotta unlock it without dropping you, hold on, and… A HAH! Got it. You want the light on or off?”

Logan couldn’t compute the question, much less make a choice. He made a sound that was slightly reminiscent of a stalled car engine, letting his head loll towards the lump that he assumed was a bed.

“Let’s compromise.” With all the care in the world, Logan was placed onto the sheets and gently rolled onto his side, a heavy comforter pulled up to his shoulders. Remus shifted away and a dim light flashed through his eyelids, enough to notice but definitely not enough to hurt his throbbing head. A table lamp, probably.

“No falling asleep on me, okay? You need to stay awake. I don’t know what that fucker gave you. I’m texting Virgil now, he’ll be here soon. Just keep your eyes open.”

Logan opened his eyes despite his overwhelming urge to sleep, and was immediately assaulted by a swirl of colors as the world tilted. An explosion of nausea tilted him forward and he pushed himself up on his elbows.

“‘m g’nna-” He didn’t have to finish his sentence before there was a plastic garbage can under his cheek and he heaved, throwing up the remnants of dinner and all he drank that evening. He didn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed as he flopped back down onto his side, squeezing his eyes shut again.

“Oh, Logan,” Remus whispered.

There was a pounding on the door and Logan didn’t even have the energy to flinch from the violent sound. Remus stood quickly and unlocked it, barely opening it before someone barreled into the room, the newcomer gasping for breath.

“What the fuck happened?!” Virgil screamed, dropping on his knees next to the bed, hand reaching up to lay on Logan’s cheek.

“He got roofied by some motherfucker I haven’t seen before. I caught him in the stairwell before anything happened.” Remus was still standing by the open door. The music was flowing in louder now, and Virgil’s raged shouting wasn’t helping his headache at all.

“I’m going to fucking kill whoever did this. I’ll fucking kill him!”

“Virgil, you’re real hot when you’re pissed, but calm the hell down. Yelling won’t help Logan.”

“You’re… shit, you’re right. Okay. I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“Watch him. Keep him on his side, bin’s to your left if he has to hurl again. I’m cutting this shit show.”

Logan finally cracked his eyes open as the door shut, Virgil leaning backwards to lock it. When he turned back and saw his friend’s eyes open, he almost wept.

“I’m so sorry Lo, I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”

“‘s okay.”

“No, no it’s not. I got distracted talking to someone, but I should have come back sooner. You could’ve… You could’ve been…”

“Not y’r fa’lt,” Logan mumbled, reaching over blindly to try and find Virgil’s hand. The other must have sensed his intentions and gripped onto the flailing limb, interlocking their fingers.

“You better not be blaming yourself.”

Technically, he was. He should have been more careful, shouldn’t have taken a drink from a stranger, should have noticed something was off the moment his mind started to fade. Never in his life would he say that this kind of situation was the victim’s fault but… he couldn’t help it when it came to himself. He’d always been self critical that way. Bringing this up to Virgil would be a death wish, though, and an argument he certainly did not have the energy for right now.

The music cut off downstairs and Logan sighed in relief, nearly smiling at Remus’ shout for everyone to get out of his house. For someone he’d met once, he was protective, that was for sure.

Virgil didn’t force him to talk. They both just enjoyed the silence for a while, the only sound being the occasional shout from downstairs and Virgil’s sniffles. Logan couldn’t exactly blame him; he’d cry too if he had the brainpower. He didn’t though, which was the problem, so he allowed his hand to be held and allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of a thumb brushing over his knuckles.

There was a quiet knock on the door and Virgil reached over to unlock it, allowing Remus to walk back in. “Sorry that took so long. Wanted to double check that anyone using someone else as a crutch was black out drunk, not drugged. Here, sit him up.”

Virgil shifted so he was behind Logan and pulled him up against him, holding him steady as Remus lifted a glass of water to his lips. “You have to be thirsty. Do your best to keep this down, Lo.” Suddenly realizing how thirsty he actually was, Logan downed half the glass before Remus pulled it away. “Not so much, you’ll get sick.” There was a clink as the glass was placed on the bed side table. “We need to take him to the hospital. I don’t know how much whatever the fucker gave him.”

“I’m too drunk to drive,” Virgil said, gently lowering Logan back onto his side.

“I didn’t drink that much, but I’m not safe either. You got a friend who can take us?”

“Yeah,” The shorter mumbled as he shakily typed in his phone password, “I’m going to call Patton, just a second.” He moved to the furthest corner of the small room and the conversation faded into the background. At least Virgil was talking… that meant Patton picked up, right?

“Shitty way to end a pretty spectacular holiday,” Remus stated as he sat back on his spot, letting a hand rest on Logan’s leg.

“‘m s’rry.”

“Ah, shit, that’s not what I meant. I’m mad for you, not at you. Ya know,” As he spoke, he reached up and did something to his eyes, almost picking at them, “Halloween’s the only valid holiday in my book. Christmas is too overrated, Easter is senseless, Thanksgiving? No thanks, I don’t glorify genocide. But Halloween? I get to dress slutty or spooky or fucking ridiculous, and no one can give me two shits about it. I get to throw ragers and stab gourds into faces and buy discount candy until I’m fifty percent chocolate. I mean, I dyed my hair green for it, paid extra for the glow in the dark shit, and all I got were compliments.”

His hands had returned to his lap and he was fiddling with something. Logan tried to make out what it was, but it just looked like black plastic. Tiny, flexible pieces of black plastic. That Remus had pulled from his eyes.

They were colored contacts.

“I guess I do kind of blame Roman for getting me into Beetlejuice, but it is one of his least favorite musicals, so it’s also a bit of a ‘fuck you’ to him-”

“R’mus,” He breathed, and even that faint call was enough to snap Remus back to him. The taller man turned to him immediately, and Logan forgot how to breathe.

Because his eyes were brown, and in the dim light of the single lamp, they absolutely shone.

His eyes were the same brown as Logan’s hair, and Logan’s eyes became that offensive green around the same time as Remus dyed his for the costume, and that’s all the confirmation Logan needed to push himself up onto the hands and lunge forward to kiss him. The effort is strenuous and the lurch almost makes him heave again, but oh Lord, he just found his soulmate and it’s actually him and-

“Woah, woah woah woah. Hold on there, cowboy.” Remus gently pushes him back down before their lips can meet, “You are very drugged right now. I am not kissing you drugged. Sober, hell yes. But not like this.”

“Y’re my-”

“Soulmate. I know. I kind of figured when I saw your eyes. But I figured… I might as well get you to like me before I dropped that kind of bombshell. Although… I was hoping that would be accomplished by basic flirting, but then the party started getting out of hand, so I was always busy with-”

“Patton’s on his way,” Virgil spoke up, joining the two on the bed. “You okay, Lo?”

“He figured it out,” Remus said softly, letting a hand card through Logan’s hair.

“I was wondering how long that would take.”

Logan gave a weak smile, his own fear and adrenaline starting wear off slightly. He was safe here, and he felt like he wasn’t going to be let out of sight for a while.

“Drink some more water, wallflower,” Remus whispered, helping him sit up, “We’ll take care of you.”

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #intrulogical #remus sanders #logan sanders #i kind of visualized that the man dropped the roofie in from his palm when he opened the drink #but i couldnt find a place to add that #not really that important tho #virgil sanders #patton sanders #rape tw #drugging tw #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides au #ts soulmate au #sanderssides #sanderssidesfanfiction #sanderssidesau

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writer1 · 3 years ago

Text

A Sniper’s Life Changing Injury

Part One

Warnings: fear, self hate, transformation, body horror, swearing, lying, injury, thoughts of abandonment, angst, lots of angst, thoughts of losing brothers, near death experience. Depression, feeling alone. It does get fluffy in the end tho, we promise

A/N: This is a collab fic between myself and @ahsokatano-thetogruta , we hope that you enjoy this! As we’ve put in the warnings, there is a lot of angst and Crosshair feels so scared and alone at a few points in this fic, so if you are feeling sad, you may want to skip out on reading this fic. It does get fluffy in the end tho, we promise. We also promise that there will be more fluffier fics for Werewolf Crosshair in the future.

Crosshair sits in his spot above the base, rifle trained on the door. His job is to shoot any droid that gets close, which is pretty easy. He waits for his brothers to get out with the information, then they can leave this force damned, snowy planet. Crosshair smirks when he finally sees his brothers leave the base, and head back to the Marauder. “Took them long enough.” He grumbles, standing up and walking through the tall trees, back towards the Marauder.

But he freezes when he hears a rustling, Crosshair points his rifle, seeing some large bushes, he waits. When there's a roar, and a giant beast jumps straight onto Crosshair, clamping a jaw around his arm. “ARGHH!!” He screams as he kicks the beast off, picking up his rifle and shooting at the beast the best he can with his injured arm. Once it’s gone, Crosshair huffs, then goes to walk back to the Marauder to get his arm taken care of, when he feels a weird feeling in his stomach.

“What the-- AURGH!” The pain intensifies tenfold, as Crosshair falls to the ground. He snarls as he starts to rip off his armor, the pain making him need too. Once it’s all off, he growls and whimpers as he hears a crack, making him scream. He covers his mouth, not wanting anyone to hear him, as his shirt grows tight, then rips. Crosshair realizes that his body is growing bigger, grey fur growing all over him.

He whines as his bones crack and change, legs gaining haunches. He hears a beeping, his comm is going off. “Crosshair! You there? Where are you Vod’ika, you should be back by now!” Crosshair whines, a noise unfamiliar to him, he… he wants his brothers, his Ori’Vod. He just wants Wrecker to hold him close, Tech to talk his ears off but also comfort him. And Hunter… he just wants some comfort from his oldest brother, please.

He goes to grab his comm, to call his Ori’Vod’s to his side, but when he almost reaches it, he feels a burning pain in his bones and his hands shake as he pulls them back to him, seeing them change and become more claw-like. He growls and his mouth elongates, becoming a muzzle, and a large fluffy tail painfully sprouts and grows from his backside. He opens his eyes, tears falling down his face as he looks down at himself, the transformation is finished, and he’s looking down at a body not his own. He looks at his hands and feet, both have sharp claws on the ends, and his legs have haunches. He is covered in thick, grey fur, and he can tell that he’s even bigger than Wrecker now, so much bigger.

Crosshair whimpers as he realizes that… that he can’t call his brothers. He’s a monster now, a hideous beast that his brothers will abandon as soon as they find out. Crosshair shakes his head, he can’t let them know, can’t tell them that he’s a monster now. Crosshair cries, completely breaking down from his usual, cold persona, what does he do, will he be human again? What happens if he isn’t?

“Crosshair?!! Cross!! Where are you!!” Crosshair hears the distant shouts of his brothers. Shit! Crosshair doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t want his brothers to see him like this, so he carries out his best and only best plan.

Run and hide.

So he does. He runs. He runs as fast as he can. He tries to run on two legs, but he keeps stumbling and falling to the ground, so he runs on all fours, coming across a cave. He takes a few moments to calm himself down as soon as he gets the chance to sit against the cave wall. He’s panicking, scared out of his mind as he looks down at himself, seeing a body that isn’t his. All he wants right now is a hug from Hunter, but there’s no way that they’d give him one now. Crosshair is a monster now, there’s no going back.

He whines and whimpers as he finds something to chew on, but he can’t, so he just uses the next best thing. His hand will make an okay substitute for now, but he wishes that Wrecker was there with him, since he would always offer him Lula to chew on whenever he was stressed or anxious, usually both. He visualises the small Tooka doll, seeing it’s slightly bent and floppy ear. The image makes him happy, but then he just sees the disgusted looks on all of their faces, making his ears press back as he curls in on himself.

A snow storm is picking up quickly, the atmosphere’s temperature dropping dramatically. Crosshair hopes that the others aren’t stuck out there in the cold. He’s sure that him being in this form would keep them all warm if they snuggled together, but who really wants to be near a monster like him? Crosshair pushes his intrusive and painful thoughts away, crawling a little further into the cave to escape the ice cold draft blowing in. He stops and settles down, well, as much as he can. He lies on the floor, feeling some tears run down his furry cheek as he lets out a sob, echoing around the small cave. “Hunter...Tech...Wrecker…” Is all he says quietly to himself as he feels himself fall asleep until he’s completely passed out.

xxx

Crosshair wakes up with a shiver. The morning light floods into the cave and he feels its slight warmth brush against his feet. He sits up groggily, then his eyes widen when he sees that he’s smaller, no longer covered in fur and back to his normal, human self. He sighs in relief as he shuffles into the light a little more, making him hum at the tiny amount of warmth comforting him. He looks out onto a sea of white, the snow glistening brightly. “No way I’m walking out there.” Crosshair mutters to himself, imagining the laughs and chuckles from his brothers.

He then freezes as he hears a ship, poking his head out of the cave to see the Marauder landing right outside, he backs up a bit, as Hunter jumps out and comes running, followed by Tech and Wrecker. “Cross! You here?!” he yells, and Crosshair smiles and yells back. “I’m here!” Hunter comes running into the cave, he looks tired, but gets a relieved look. “Cross!” He runs over and pulls Crosshair into a hug, as both Wrecker and Tech run over as well and join in.

Hunter then pulls away, getting a serious look as Tech wraps a blanket around Crosshair’s shoulders. “What the Kriff happened? We went looking for you when you didn’t return to the Marauder, we found your armor, and torn shirt. What happened!” Crosshair sighs. “An animal attacked me, but I fought it off. It tore my armor and shirt off, then I ran and hid in this cave.” Hunter has an unbelieving look, but he just gives a relieved smile. “We’re just glad you’re okay, Vod’ika.” Hunter tells him, then Wrecker runs over and picks him up.

“Hey! What--” “We thought you were dead!” Wrecker yells as he hugs Crosshair close, tearing up. Crosshair sighs, but hugs Wrecker back. “It’s okay, I’m okay, Wrecker.” Wrecker smiles and presses a kiss to Crosshair’s forehead. “Let's get you inside, you’re freezing.” Crosshair nods, and Tech walks up. “Yes, your body temperature is much too low for my liking.'' The four of them run to the Marauder, Crosshair actually being carried in Wreckers arms. He’s carried straight to Wrecker’s bunk, being laid down as his brothers all start to strip their armor.

“What?--” “We are having a cuddle pile, both to warm you up, and because we spent a whole night thinking you were dead, we need the comfort of knowing you’re safe beside us.” Crosshair nods, feeling terrible for worrying them. They all climb into the bed, Crosshair between Tech and Hunter, as Wrecker moves them all to be on top of him. Crosshair sighs softly, getting a happy smile. He’s so glad that he turned back to human, he just hopes that he doesn’t transform again.

He yawns as his eyes flutter closed, the warmth of his brothers making him sleepy, he drifts off to sleep.

xxx

That was not the only time Crosshair transforms, not by a longshot. He transformed two more times before today, the first was only three days after the very first time, he was lucky to get an excuse out to his brothers before running. They were thankfully on a more tropical planet, so no freezing to death. The second time, he was once again sniping, and it just started, it may have been because he was worried for his brothers, he doesn’t know. He had started sneaking spare blacks in his backpack thankfully after the tropical planet, so he made sure to leave no evidence and hid in another cave.

His brothers had grown suspicious when he had returned, but he had just shrugged. “I found a new spot, but I got trapped by clankers, so I had to hide and wait it out.” He knew they hadn’t quite believed it, but they didn’t bug.

Crosshair sighs as he cleans his rifle, they have been in space for about four days, and he’s so scared of transforming while up here. Hunter will surely sense it, and then it's all over. He’ll lose his brothers forever, and be alone. Crosshair runs a hand through his hair as he sighs sadly. “Maybe I deserve it, what kind of monsters have families.” He whispers to himself, then startles when he hears Hunter yell for him.

“Cross! Dinners ready!” He stands, setting his rifle up as he leaves his quarters, walking to the common area. Hunter smiles and hands him a plate. “Wrecker chose tonight.” Crosshair sighs, rolling his eyes, but he smiles. “Kraft Dinner?” “Kraft Dinner.” Hunter confirms, and Crosshair smiles as Wrecker pumps a fist. “Yeah!! I love it!!” Crosshair smiles as he sits down against a wall, and starts eating his bowl of Kraft Dinner. Hunter has given him a fork, just how he likes it.

He eats for a few minutes, hearing Tech babble about this new gadget he’s working on, just feeling content when he feels the familiar discomfort welling up in his stomach. His eyes widen as fear fills him. Hunter notices that there’s something off about Crosshair, making him raise an eyebrow “Everything okay, Cross?” He asks, but Crosshair swallows hard to try and get rid of the feeling in his stomach. He tries to think of an excuse, then he looks at his food. “I think this is making me sick, I’ll be right back.” Crosshair lies, knowing that he is going to transform and will not want to show his face, or the face of a wolf, that is.

Crosshair stands quickly and swiftly makes his way down the hall towards his room. Hunter, Tech and Wrecker all share the same concerned, worried look for their little brother. “He doesn’t usually feel sick at dinner, does he?” Tech inquires, making Hunter shake his head. “No. No, he doesn’t.” He replies, getting up and follows Crosshair in his stead back to his room. “Cross, wait!” He calls out to Crosshair, but the door is shut on his face. Hunter knocks a few times “Cross, what’s going on? Are you alright--” A loud groan and yell from inside the room is all he needs for him to answer his own question.

“TECH! WRECKER!” Hunter yells, seeing his brothers run immediately to him. “What’s going on?! Is Cross okay?!” Wrecker asks. He’s never felt so worried before in his whole life. Hunter shakes his head, but before he can answer, there’s a yell louder and more painful than the last one. “His door is locked and I can’t get it open.” Hunter tells them, then Tech is immediately at the panel for the door lock, but his shaky hands are making it difficult for him to hack into the locking mechanism. “I-I can’t get it open!” Tech is panicking, worried for his little brother, tears filling his eyes and making it difficult to see what he’s doing.

“Stand back!!” Wrecker yells, letting Tech move out of the way before he uses all of his strength to kick down the door. They each rush into the room, to then see Crosshair kneeling on the floor with his back to them, arms wrapped around himself. He seems...different. Like he’s-- growing?! The three of them stand there, not sure what to do. This has never happened before. “Crosshair?” Hunter asks cautiously, watching as Crosshair turns his head to look at them. They feel a shiver run down their spines when they see that their little brother’s eyes are yellow and glowing a little, some grey fur growing on his face too.

“Get out!!”

xxx

“Cross, wai--!” The door shuts behind Crosshair. Crosshair groans, hugging his stomach as he sits down on the floor beside his bed. He strips his armor off, throwing it half-hazardly across the room, he hugs himself, as he does everything in his power to hold back the transformation, causing excruciating pain.

He hears knocking. “Cross, what’s going on? Are you alright--” He lets out a loud groan, followed by a yell. The sound of Hunter’s voice is making him scared and uneasy. “TECH! WRECKER!” He hears Hunter yell, as footsteps come running. “No no no.” Crosshair whispers, letting out an even louder, more painful yell as the pain amps up, he’s so scared that his brothers will see the monstrous beast he’s going to become, he continues holding back his transformation, no matter how much pain it causes. He can hear voices on the other side, but is unable to concentrate enough to hear what they’re saying, he growls as fur starts to grow on his face, and he squeezes his eyes shut. “No, please, no.” He whispers, hugging himself and turning from the door as he hears-- “Stand back!!” then a big bang, as he knows that Wrecker has kicked the door down, he grits his teeth as his body starts to slowly, agonizingly slowly, grow bigger.

They stand there for a few minutes, probably just staring at him until he hears Hunter ask. “Crosshair?” almost in a scared voice, it makes Crosshair wince, then he turns to them. Seeing them shiver and their eyes go wide. “Get out!!” He yells, not wanting them to see him, not like this. His voice is a bit deeper, and growly.

As he groans again, he won’t be able to hold back the transformation for much longer. He watches them stare with fear written on all three of their faces, and he looks away. “I said get out!!” He yells, but then everything becomes too much, and he lets out a sob. “Please, just...don’t look at me. I’m… I’m a monster, just go away.” He hugs himself tighter, the pain growing worse as he yells out, he won’t be able to hold it back, it’s already starting to slip. He doesn’t hear them leaving, wondering what's going on. “I’m sorry, I know it’s disgusting, and I’ll leave after this. I promise, you’ll never have to see me aga-- AUGH.” Crosshair tells them, tears falling down his face as he shakes.

He finally slips, unable to hold it back any longer. He lets go and lets the transformation happen, knowing that he can’t stop it now. His body grows larger, fur sprouting out as his clothes rip, his shirt fully shredding as his pants stay on, only ripping at the ends to about half way. He writhes on the floor as his bones crack, legs bending and forming into haunches. His arms are longer and more muscular, hands more claw-like now. He knows that they are probably all staring at him in disgust, already devising a plan to throw him out on the next plant they come across. Crosshair knows that he’s not going to be welcomed here anymore--

His heavy, growly breath hitches when he feels a pair of arms wrap around his front, making him look down to see his bandana-loving brother hugging him tightly. “Hunt-- argh, Hunter, no, don’t…” Crosshair begins but starts sobbing, not wanting Hunter to leave. “Shh, it’s alright, Cross. We’re not going anywhere.” Hunter tells him, making his heart throb. He’s not sure whether it’s from hearing that his brothers still love him or the uncomfortable feeling in his chest as he continues to grow bigger and more fluff grows, getting fluffier.

Hunter pulls away a little, not wanting to keep his embrace around his little brother too tightly. He looks up to see tears flowing down his face, so he reaches a hand up to cup Crosshair’s cheek, wiping the tears away. Crosshair leans into the touch, but then his face hurts as it elongates. He yells out, wanting to look away, but Hunter just gives him a look of ‘it’s okay, I’m not afraid and you shouldn’t be either’. Crosshair whines, squeezing his eyes shut as his ears grow pointy and furry, moving to the top of his head as a tail grows long and fluffy.

Crosshair lets out a relieved huff and sigh, but whimpers when he opens his eyes, he sees Tech and Wrecker standing in front of him, staring in disbelief, making Crosshair press his ears back in fear and look down “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I’m a monster now, you can kick me out if you want.” He hears no response, so he looks up to see the three of them with tears in their eyes, spilling out and rolling down their faces. Crosshair feels guilty and confused. “Why are you crying? Did I say something wrong--”

“Why would you ever think that?!” Hunter sounds angry, making Crosshair jump in surprise. Hunter takes a deep breath “We’d never kick you out, ever.” He says, standing up and pressing his forehead against Crosshair. Crosshair feels like crying, so he holds Hunter close to comfort him. He feels Tech and Wrecker hug him from either side, so he lets go of Hunter for a moment to pull the both of them in for a hug as well. His longer arms allow him to hold all three of them at once, hugging them close and all together.

They all sit like that for a few minutes, Crosshair just wanting to be close to his brothers, he finds it weird, being bigger than them, especially Wrecker. Crosshair whimpers, gently setting his chin on the top of Tech’s head, making Tech let out a sigh. They then pull away, and Hunter gives him a sad look. “How long? This isn’t the first time, is it?” Crosshair shakes his head, making his brothers get sad looks. “It was during that mission on the snow planet, I transformed, that’s why you couldn’t find me.” Hunter’s eyes widen. “That… That was a week and a half ago, Cross! You’ve been like this that long, and you haven’t told us!” Crosshair flinches, ears pressing back.

“I was scared, I’m a monster now. I thought you’d hate me, and think I’m disgusting. So whenever I transformed I hid, same on the tropical planet and that last planet we were on.” Hunter tears up a bit, as Wrecker growls. “You’re not a monster, never!” He tells Crosshair, making Crosshair whine as his ears press back. Hunter frowns, giving Wrecker a look. Wrecker gently pets Crosshair’s arm.

Hunter then looks back up at Crosshair. “You’re not a monster, you are our brother, nothing is going to change that. Not ever in a million years.” Crosshair tears up again, pulling all three of his brothers into a hug, Tech smiles. “It’s okay, I’d like to run some tests on you. Just so we know how this affects you. But that can be sometime later.” Crosshair nods, nuzzling into Tech as Wrecker pets him. “So you don’t think I’m a Monster? Or disgusting?” Crosshair knows they already said he didn’t, but after thinking they’d hate him for so long, he needs the reassurances.

“Not at all. What you look like doesn’t matter, you're still our little brother, Crossy.” Tech reassures him, making sure that Crosshair is getting everybit comfort he deserves. Crosshair’s chest rumbles in content, letting out a happy hum as he nuzzles into the top of each of their heads. He feels so lucky to have the three greatest Vod’e in the entire galaxy. Lost in his content thoughts, he licks their heads a few times before stopping. His face heats up in embarrassment. “What the-- s-sorry, I don’t know why I did that.” Instead of the weirded out reactions he expected, they all smile kindly and don’t say anything about it. Except for Tech, that is. “Well, it is probably a new natural reaction or instinct that you have developed, since it is a gesture that a wolf makes to show affection.”

Wrecker looks at him with a mix of shock and confusion. He never knew that “They do that?” He asks and Tech retorts playfully in a smart tone of voice “I thought that was obvious.” All of them chuckle, including Crosshair, who feels a lot less nervous knowing that it is something that is now...normal. Suddenly, he sees Wrecker lean up to his face and start licking his furry cheek. “Um, Wrecker? W-What are y’doing?” Crosshair asks, unable to hold back a chuckle.

“M’giving you affection too-- bleh!” Wrecker tells him, but then he’s cut off when he starts coughing up some fur that got in his mouth. Crosshair laughs and pats the top of Wrecker’s head. “Normal kisses work fine, Wreck.” He tells him with a smile, then Wrecker kisses him normally a few times before snuggling again. Crosshair nuzzles him and then hums when Hunter plays with the fur on his chest, making his eyes flutter from the nice feeling. Hunter chuckles sweetly. “Is that nice, Cross’ika?” Crosshair can’t find the words to say, so he just nods and hums. Hunter runs his fingers through the fluffy fur a few more times, looking sadly at Crosshair.

Crosshair whines at the loss of Hunter’s touch, making him fully open his eyes “Why did you stop?” He asks, and Hunter sighs “You really went through this alone three times already? The same pain and worry on your mind?” Hunter asks. Crosshair looks sheepishly at him in response and nods, his ears pressing back. “M’sorry, I...I was just so scared.”

Hunter frowns, placing a hand softly on Crosshair’s cheek. “Well, you don’t have to be afraid anymore. We’re here for you and we always will be. Right, Fellas?” Hunter smiles at Tech and Wrecker who both nod. Tech lets out a little “Yep.” while Wrecker pumps his fist in the air a little and shouts “Yeah!”, making them all laugh and smile.

After calming down, Crosshair lets out a yawn, his sharp teeth on display for the others to see, but they don’t find them scary. He feels tired from all the exhaustion, taking over his entire body. If his brothers weren’t there, he’d surely just flop and pass out on the floor. “You ready to sleep?” Hunter asks, sensing his little brother’s exhaustion, and Crosshair nods. They all stand up, apart from Crosshair who doesn’t. “What’s wrong, Cross? Can’t you walk?” Tech asks with a raised eyebrow, seeing Crosshair with a nervous look on his face.

“I can only walk on all fours. It’s difficult now that my legs are...different.” Crosshair whines, making the others give him looks of sympathy, then Tech hums in thought, sitting down and gently grabbing Cross’s leg, pulling his foot to his face, studying it. “It may be difficult, since you aren’t used to walking on your toes, plus you’ve never had haunches before, so that is the biggest change to your anatomy.” Crosshair stretches his other leg out, looking at his larger foot. That makes a lot of sense. Crosshair sighs. “I just...I don’t want to walk around like an animal.” Tech nods as he says “Understandable.” as he lets go of Crosshair’s leg.

Only a moment later, Wrecker walks over to him and scoops him up, making Crosshair yelp in surprise. “Don’t worry, Crossy. We’ve got you. Quite literally, in my case.” Wrecker smiles, then Crosshair returns it, nuzzling his snout into Wrecker’s neck as he’s carried over to his bunk. Wrecker sets Crosshair down, squeezing in next to him as Hunter sits on the other side, then Tech just stands there, noticing that there isn’t a lot of room left.

Crosshair smiles and pats his lap “You can sit here, if you want? It’ll be more comfortable to pile on, rather than trying to squish together onto one bunk.” Tech nods as he climbs up and sits in Crosshair’s lap, with a helping hand from Crosshair, who pulls him close so Tech won’t fall off while they are asleep. The last thing Crosshair wants to do is hurt his brothers anymore than he already has by not telling them about this, thinking that they’d get rid of him. With a happy sigh, he finally falls asleep, enjoying the company of his brothers. They make him feel safe and loved, being there by his side while he’s in this new and scary form.

xxx

Hunter opens his eyes groggily, gently sitting up. He rubs his eyes and looks around, smiling when he sees a human Crosshair, with Tech on top of him. Hunter gently reaches over and runs a hand through Cross’s hair, making his brother hum, and a smile appear on his face. Hunter smiles softly, but then frowns. He feels so bad that Crosshair had thought they'd hate him, just because he looked different.

Hunter sighs. They should have seen the signs that something was wrong with their youngest, he had been acting weird ever since that mission. Almost as if he’s depressed. It had broken Hunter and the rest, but they could have never imagined what had actually caused it. Hunter feels horrible that Crosshair had to go through that pain alone, three times. That's never going to happen again, Hunter won’t let it.

“Hm.” Hunter turns to see Crosshair starting to stir, along with Tech and Wrecker. “Cross!! Yer human again!!” Wrecker yells excitedly, scooping Crosshair into a hug and knocking Tech into Hunter, but Tech and Hunter both just laugh. Crosshair chuckles, and Hunter notices the look of relief on his face. “Yeah, yeah I am.” Wrecker smiles as he pulls Crosshair close, then he looks over. “Are you guys joining in?” He asks, and Hunter chuckles. “Of course.” Tech tells him as he joins the group hug, and Hunter does as well.

They all hear Crosshair sigh happily, making them happy to have helped him, hoping that he won’t run from them again.

xxx

Crosshair watches as the others celebrate the victory they had against the Separatists, they had just taken out a base on the other side of the planet. But Crosshair isn’t celebrating, not at all. There were bombs that were set to go off, and none of them even knew about them. They had almost killed Hunter… He had almost lost his Ori’Vod today.

He groans softly as the familiar feeling fills his stomach, and he sucks in a breath. He’s going to transform, again. “Shit.” He hisses quietly to himself, wrapping an arm around his stomach. He goes to walk away, to hide when he hears-- “You okay, Cross?” Hunter asks, and Crosshair turns to look at him, his helmet is thankfully on, so Hunter and the others can’t see his grimace. “I’m fine, just going for a walk.” Hunter raises an eyebrow, then his eyes widen. “You’re going to transform. Aren’t you?”

Crosshair doesn’t respond, instead, he just goes to run. But as he steps off of the first step, he lets out a yell at an excruciating pain in his stomach and stumbles down the steps, falling to the ground. He tries to stand up and run away to hide somewhere, but Hunter gets in front of him, kneeling down and making sure that Crosshair doesn’t get up. “Hunter, let me go.” He whimpers, feeling the pain get worse with every passing second. Hunter shakes his head and frowns.

Crosshair doesn’t think to push Hunter out of the way, because part of him wants him to stay with his brothers, to have them near him this time. Crosshair holds his stomach, about to double over from the pain, but Hunter pulls his baby brother into a tight, comforting hug. “Tell me what to do, how can I help?” Hunter asks, almost begging, pulling Crosshair’s helmet off and looking directly into his eyes, watching as they turn golden yellow. “Get my armor off, please.” Crosshair whines, already feeling it becoming too tight. Hunter nods and starts with his arm pieces, but then Crosshair groans “H-Hunter, please hurry for Kriff’s sake!” He half cries out, making Hunter panic. He’s about to call for Tech and Wrecker to help him, but they are already coming out of the ship and kneeling down too, each helping to remove his armour.

Once it is all off, Crosshair finally doubles over, pulling his shirt over his head and dropping it on the ground as he clutches his stomach. He feels someone’s hand on his back, rubbing it soothingly. It feels weird when his fur starts to grow, because it’s short and stubbly, so it feels itchy for a few moments until it grows out more and becomes furry. He yells as his bones crack and rearrange, letting out an inhuman growl as his arms and legs keep getting longer and his hands and feet become clawed, his pants partially shred and rip, a tail growing out from his backside, making him yelp from shock rather than pain, because he’s gotten used to feeling it grow as he transforms.

He bares his sharp teeth as his face elongates into a snout, ears pointy and furry, moving to the top of his head. His fur is thick and fluffy now as the transformation finishes, letting him huff in relief. He hums when he feels someone still rubbing his back, so he turns his head to see Tech smiling at him comfortingly. He returns the smile, standing slightly so he can shuffle around to sit on the ground. Crosshair hangs his head low and whispers “Sorry.”

It’s barely audible to Tech and Wrecker, but Hunter hears it loud and clear. “Cross, you have nothing to be sorry about.” Hunter says as he crouches down and wraps his arms around his little brother’s neck, holding him close. Crosshair hugs him back, a few tears falling as he sits there, feeling vulnerable while Hunter hugs him, bringing some comfort. Hunter pulls away from him “No more running away, okay? Because we’re here for you now. We always have been and always will be.”

Crosshair nods as Hunter wipes the tears from his furry cheeks. Tech then makes a small cough to grab their attention. “Now that you are in this form, we can help you walk. Only if you want to, no pressure, Vod’ika.” Crosshair goes to decline Tech’s offer, but, after a moment in thought, he realises that if he can walk on two legs in this form, he won’t have to walk like an animal anymore. “Sure, thank you.”

All three smile at him, then Wrecker walks over. “Here, let me help you up.” Crosshair nods, wrapping a large arm around Wrecker’s shoulders, as his brother hoists him up. Crosshair's eyes widen when he realizes that Wrecker only reaches to the middle of his chest, and the others reach up to his ribcage. He whimpers a bit, never realizing exactly how much bigger he is. But then he feels a soft pat on his side, looking down to see Hunter smiling comfortingly at him.

“It’s okay, we aren’t scared at all. Although you aren’t exactly our little brother anymore.” Hunter jokes softly, making Crosshair smile and let out a chuckle, Tech also hums. “I’ve been reading up on werewolves, it seems that when you transform, you use up your energy, so you should be eating. I’m guessing that has not been happening?” Crosshair nods sheepishly, making Tech nod. “We’ll get you some food after we do some walking practice, now it’s going to be difficult the first few times, just because you’ve never walked like this before. Walking on your toes and with haunches, I mean.” Crosshair nods, making a noise of understanding as he goes to take a step. But he stumbles.

He almost falls, but Wrecker and Hunter both steady him together. “Woah, careful.” Hunter tells him, and Crosshair nods, growling in frustration. But then he takes another step, stumbling a bit but not falling. “Yes!!” Wrecker cheers, and Hunter smiles and pats Crosshair’s side. “Great job, Cross!!” Crosshair smiles brightly, he knows that being a werewolf is going to be difficult, but he’s going to try his best, even if it means taking one step at a time. So his first step will be to learn and practice to walk on two legs, and quite literally taking one step at a time as he stumbles his way into his new life, knowing that he’ll get there, one day...

Taglist: @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @lightning-wolffe

#star wars clone wars #werewolf crosshair #were!Cross #my writing #hunter #tech #crosshair #wrecker #the bad batch

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suchalonelysunflower · 4 years ago

Text

If it means a lot to you (a.i)

Pairing: Ashton Irwin X Reader

Summary: Songfic based on the song “If it means a lot to you” by A Day to Remember. You haven’t heard from Ashton in weeks, could you endure all the pain while he’s on tour or it would become too much?

Warnings: ANGST, strong language, overthinking and anxiety. Also some grammatical mistakes (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word Count: 2.6 K

Author’s Note: I was feeling so angsty today and this was the product of me pouring out my feelings into a fic. Reblogs, coments and feedback are always welcome and apreciated! I would love to hear your thoughts 💙 Hope you like it and Happy reading🦋

My Materialist

It felt good to be on the stage again. It felt more than good, actually. The sound of screaming fans, calling out your names in pure ecstasy as one by one the songs pass and reverberates throughout the whole stadium, or arena or a simple, yet packed, venue. The adrenaline that cursed through the veins of each one of them as they gave their all, feeling how the base makes the entire stage shake with rhythms they know by memory and would never get tired off. It felt good to be on the stage again, to be on tour again. But not everyone gets to have everything they want.

You were sitting on your sofa, getting lost in thought as the TV played some old episodes of your favorite show as background noise of your own pity party. It’s been two months since Ashton went away on tour with his band again, and even though you knew this made him happy, you always hated when he had to leave.

The feeling of loneliness crept in two weeks and a half ago, when he started to miss your calls and texted you only once a day. You knew he was busy, you knew he must be tired, but so are you.

You understand that this is his job, you’ve been through this before, but the separation was never easy. You always worried about his safety, how he’s dealing with stuff and if he ever misses you or if he had someone else he’d rather be with while you were away and tucked under your shared sheets in LA. He always came through though, pushing those thoughts away by reassuring his love, either by facetime or a simple call. But you haven’t seen him or heard of him in so long that you couldn’t help but drown yourself in a pity parade for one. You miss him, you need him. And it’s still so long until you could see each other again.

A notification on your phone pulls you away for a while, it takes a few moments before you realize that it was in fact your phone and not a trick of your mind. You jump right to it, thinking, hoping that it would be Ashton trying to call you or even a simple text. The beating of your heart ran like a horse before you could even register that it was just a notification from instagram, you just saw his name and quickly swiped to open it.

@ ashtonirwin: Thank you for singing with us xx

The post was simple, you could see the crowd going wild as Andy took a photo of the boys in their element. Ashton was smiling behind his drum kit, taking in the scenery of a thousand screaming fans that were there just to see them, to sing with them. And it hurt you.

It hurts not being there. Not being the one that was at the other end of the smile, and oh, how you miss that smile.

You opened the camera roll, forgetting to put a like on the post as your mind decided to add some salt to the wound. You scrolled a few pictures down until you found what you were looking for: A video of Ashton.

His smile was clear even before you pressed play. You remember the day he sent that to you, it was at the beginning of the tour and you were feeling a little needy, so he decided to send you this while you were asleep. He knew it would make you feel better once you woke up. And it did.

It was a simple video of him just talking to the camera, but it always made you feel better and you hope this time it will as you pressed play.

“Hey, darling” Ashton said with a smile so wide you could see every dimple and wrinkle on his face “I hope you’re good tonight, I know you don’t feel right when I’m leaving… It’s not easy for me either, being away from you and being unable to kiss you and cuddle you like we do. I miss you, dear”

The sadness in his voice moved you and you wished you were there with him, doing your best to push that sadness away. “Tour’s going great so far, I really wish you were here to see it. But you will be, one day and it will be awesome. But I can’t come back home till they’re singing, and oh, how amazing it is to hear them sing back at us, it’s almost as beautiful as to hear you sing to me one of our songs, even if it’s to mock our oldest songs” His smile lit up the screen ashe giggled “Just wait till I get home, baby. It won’t be long now, I swear. I love you”

“I love you” You whispered to the face on the screen as the video stopped.

The tears were rolling down your face and you couldn’t do anything to stop it. The video always helped to make you feel better but, somehow, it just made missing him worse.

It wasn’t enough, you needed him. You needed him and he was MIA, the only news you get from him are from social media and you couldn’t handle it anymore.

You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same.

Ashton was laying in his bunk bed, smiling as he scrolled down twitter to read the reactions to tonight’s concert. It was one of their best and he was very proud of the energy they put on stage for the world to see.

He always enjoyed tour life, visiting new cities and countries every night, giving his all in all the concerts and spending time with his best friends. It was all he ever wanted since he was a kid and now he was able to experience it.

“Hey, Ash!” Luke called his attention from the bunk across the small hall “Could you tell Y/N that Sierra wants to talk? She said it was something about a recipe but it seems like she can’t get in touch with them”

Ashton frowned, you were never the one to shy away from their friends, always being the most social one of the two of them “Uh, yeah. Sure man”

“Thanks, and tell Y/N we are missing them, it’s been too long since we saw each other”

‘It has been a long time’ Ashton thought, or at least it seemed like it because he was sure he sent a text earlier today and…

Ashton’s expression froze when he saw that he didn’t text you today, or yesterday or the day before that. He didn’t even respond to your last text.

Y/N: Tell me something sweet to get me by.

How long ago was that? Why didn’t he notice before?

A feeling of guilt ran through him, feeling disgusted at himself for forgetting about you, the most important thing in his life. How could he? You must’ve been feeling low that day to text him something like that, he knew how much you hated when he had to leave. You didn’t text him after that, maybe you were okay now, but he still needed to talk to you, to apologize.

He sighed when he saw what time it was, now it wasn’t time for a facetime call, knowing that you were probably asleep by now. He would apologize to you in the morning.

Little did he know that you were still awake, sobbing and calling out his name through your cries.

You woke up when the sunlight hit your face. You furrowed your eyebrows at your surroundings, realizing that you fell asleep on the couch. Luckily it was a Saturday, so you had no other responsibilities other than crying yourself to sleep for maybe the tenth time in a row?

You knew it wasn’t fair, for you or for him, to be enduring this kind of pain. But if you meant a lot to him, why hasn’t he responded? or calling to check up on you? This place felt lonelier by the minute, his mugs were in the cupboard, some of his clothes were in the closet, his music room remains untouched and yet it seemed like he was never here at all to begin with, just a ghost of his memory floating around to remind you of what you were missing.

You felt the tears about to crash down again, but you had no energy left in your body to cry. You were exhausted, needy, lonely and down right miserable while the love of your life was living his best life without you in it.

Ashton was living his best life, but he still felt something was missing. He sat down on the couch the venue offered, it wasn’t as comfortable as he would expect but it didn’t matter. He knew he had to talk to you.

He has been a shitty boyfriend lately, he understood and hated that. You didn’t deserve to be pushed aside like he did and he felt awful. So, with his heart in his sleeve, hoping you’ll forgive him and that you were okay, he picked up the phone and called.

Ashton heard the beeping tone three times before you decided to answer “...Hey, sweety” You said with a sigh.

Ashton could tell you were sad, a punch in the guts hurt less than hearing your voice so small and defeated. “Hey, darling,” He said,making his tone a little bit more uplifting, thinking it might help “How are you? Sierra said that you weren’t answering your phone, is everything okay?”

Hearing his voice, his cheerful tone as if nothing has happened or as if this wasn’t the first time in weeks that you’ve heard of him, hurt more than you could ever expect. You felt silent tears rolling down your face as you contemplated what to say about that.

“I just-”

“Ash, we need you for soundcheck” A voice said on the other line.

Ashton raised his hand, annoyed at the interruption, asking the boys to wait a second. He needed to hear from you first. All three of the guys backed up immediately when they saw the serious expression on the drummer’s face.

“Sorry, love. I think the boys need me” He said, hoping you wouldn’t get mad.

“But, what about me?” You asked before you realized what was coming out of your mouth.

“What?” Ashton said with a concerning tone.

“I need you here, Ashton” You cried, unable to keep the tears at bay anymore “I need you here tonight, and I know that you don’t wanna be leaving and I get it, I swear I totally get it and I’m not trying to pressure you or anything, it’s okay that you want this”

Hearing you cry through the phone broke Ashton’s heart. He did this, he caused this. How could he neglect you like that?

“I want it but I don’t need it” He quickly reassured you.

“Yes, you want it. But I can’t help it, I-” Your voice shook “I just feel complete when you’re by my side. I know I can be needy sometimes and believe me, I hate that as much as you do, probably. But, Ash, I haven’t heard from you in weeks! Yes, a morning text now and then but sweety, I don’t think you understand how bad this hurts”

Ashton felt the tears burning in his eyes, your broken voice sounded like an echo in his head, making him wish he could go back and fix his mistakes, to take all your pain away.

“Do you know how hard it is to be in this house alone, not knowing if you are okay or if you miss me? I found myself walking around aimlessly, trying to hold on to the memory of you here, to even a hint that I wasn’t dreaming when I held you close because it’s been so long and I don’t think I can take it anymore. Knowing that you can’t come home till they’re singing, till everyone is singing back at you”

“B-baby-” Ashton said, not caring that he sounded desperate, because he was. He didn’t like where this conversation was going “Baby, I know I fucked up, big time. But don’t you ever doubt that you are the most important thing to me, I swear. Darling, if you-” He said, swallowing the lump in his throat “If you can wait till I get home, I swear that when tomorrow comes this will all be in our past”

You stared blankly ahead as you heard him say those things. It broke you to your core, but you knew what you had to do. It was the best for both of you.

“Ash, you know you can’t give me what I need. Not right now and I can’t ask that from you, I would never ask that from you and you know it. Even though you mean so much to me, I need you to be happy, I need to be happy and maybe we thought that we could find happiness together but Ash, this ain’t it”

“Darling, wait-”

“I love you, but I can’t wait through everything. I can’t keep crying myself to sleep every night wishing for a text, a call, a sign that you are okay. And I can’t ask you to give up your life just to be with me, we both know it’s not going to work and we’ll be miserable-”

“Is this really happening?” Ashton interrupted you.

He was pacing back and forth in the little room, tears falling freely as he understood the words you were trying to say. You were leaving him. You were leaving him and he couldn't blame you. He knew it was too much to ask but he hoped… if he had tried hard enough, if he hadn’t neglected you the way that he did and invalidating you by not acknowledging your feelings, maybe this wouldn’t be the outcome of his mistakes.

“I love you,” He pleaded.

“Ash…”

“No, Y/N!” I know, I fucked up but please! Please, darling, don't leave me” He begged “I swear I’ll never be happy again, not even if we stay friends so don’t even dare to say that. Y/N. I love you. I love you, darling. You are the love of my life and -” He choked, overwhelmed with grief of what he just lost.

“Ash, please don’t make it harder” You cried, silently as your heart broke in a thousand pieces “We knew it’d happen eventually”

“No we fucking didn’t! I didn’t! I want you in my life, Y/N. And I know I sucked at letting you see that but- I swear, if you can wait till I get home, I swear we can make this last, baby. Please”

You stayed silent, wanting to be able to believe him right now, but knowing this was for the best, even if it hurt, it’s what needed to be done so both of you could be happy. And you want nothing more than for him to be happy and free to do whatever he wants, even if it breaks your heart.

“Goodbye, Ash. I love you” You said, voice breaking at the end “I’ll always love you”

“Y/N, don’t-” He pleaded one last time before you ended the call “FUCK” He yelled, throwing the phone to god knows where.

He lost you.

Luke, Calum and Michael came running towards the room when they heard Ashton yell. However, they didn’t expect to find their friend sitting on the floor, sobbing as he started to hyperventilate.

“Mate, what happened?” Ashton took a big breath.

“I fucked up, Cal” He said with a voice as broken as his heart “I fucked up and I don’t know if I can fix it”

Part 2

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thesameasbe4 · 4 years ago

Text

Tangled Up in Tuscany

Sebastian Stan showing all of us that he’s really just a normal guy with a nice jaw line.

It wasn’t my first time in Tuscany, but the last time had been over ten years ago on a high school trip. I wasn’t expecting it to be quite the same experience this time, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. I stepped into the grand entrance of the hotel, doing my best not to look too out of place amidst the fine room and well dressed people. I had not traveled with the rest of the wedding party out of Atlanta, unlike the rest of them, I had a real job and couldn’t just take off three weeks for a luxurious wedding, so I was the last to arrive by about five days. And in that time I had been bombarded by the photos and messages on the bridal party group text of all the extravagant things they had been doing. Touring old churches, wine tasting, eating at the most elegant restaurants. While I was a tad jealous, I also got the impression that doing these things in the company of the other bridesmaids would perhaps detract from the overall experience. So it was what it was.

The door man walked me to the front desk where I shyly greeted the shrewd desk clerk. “Hi, I should have a reservation under LeBlanc.” I spelled it and his rather illustrious eyebrows lifted. “Tu parle francaise?” The man asked.

I smiled a little and shook my head, “Non, je ne parle pas francais, je parle l’anglais.”

“But it is a French name yes?” He pressed, and I responded in the affirmative. Seeming in better spirits he motioned to a man standing to my left in some kind of negotiation with another clerk. “It seems you two are here for the same event, do you know each other?”

I looked again at the man, he had dark brown hair and a five o’clock shadow covering his strong jaw line. He fit in here, dressed in his well cut European suit and perfectly coiffed hair. Returning my focus to the clerk and straightening my posture, I responded, “Nope, never met him.”

“I think you stole my room,” the gentleman interjected in what I was surprised to hear was an American accent.

I raised an eyebrow in his direction, “Indeed? I have arrived just now, so I don’t know how that can be possible.”

“No look, I think Liz switched the name on the last available room,” he persisted.

“Well I guess you do know the bride then,” I said, noting his casual use of my friend’s name. I replied, “Why would she do that?”

“Look I don’t know, but Joe said there was a room waiting for me here and that was a few days ago.”

I pulled out my phone, planning on giving the bride and groom a call to get this sorted out when the big white numbers on the screen reminded me that it was 3 AM. Sighing, I looked at the clerk, “Are there any more vacant rooms?”

“No madame,” he responded, his voice pinched again like when I first arrived, “that was how we first developed this misunderstanding.”

“I guess that makes sense.” I looked again at the gentleman, “Can you prove you know Liz and Joe?” He reached in to his inside jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. He swiped around till he found what he wanted and handed it to me.

“That was two years ago in Prague, we worked a movie together.” My eye swept the screen, finally making out the face of the man that stood before me in a cluster of several other people dressed in period clothing. “Also, Joe is allergic to shellfish, which he learned while in Hawaii only after eating an entire shrimp and pineapple pizza.” I laughed, anyone who knew Joe had heard that story.

“Well, you can bunk in my room tonight if you are desperate, then we can get this all settled at a decent hour tomorrow.” I wiggled my room card at him.

“I don’t wan’t to impose,” he said, suddenly looking concerned.

“Look, you already have. All I want is a hot shower and a few hours of sleep, and this compromise is now the quickest way to getting that.”

Maintaining eye contact with me he worried his lower lip, “okay, I guess.”

So we made our way to the elevator. “And I do really appreciate it,” he said as the elevator started going up, “I hope I wasn’t too rude, I just always have really bad luck in Italy.”

“Well let’s hope this trip breaks the cycle, cause I don’t know that I will get another shot at a Tuscany vacation.” I said stepping out of the elevator and into the hallway, locating our door by the small pile of bags that were waiting for us.

I handed him the key as I gathered my things. “Um, I think we made a very American mistake,” came a voice from inside the room.”

“Huh?” I said confusedly, groaning as I came to stand next to him. The room only had one bed.

…

A string of profanity ambled out of my mouth as I stripped in the bathroom. I had insisted that I didn’t need to be put up in such a nice hotel, especially if Liz was paying for me, but no, she wanted me to be with the rest of the wedding party, she wanted me to get along with her fancy Hollywood friends. So here I was in a swanky ass hotel with a strange man that I had, in my fatigue and delirium, decided to trust.

After several minutes of letting the hot water loosen my back and shoulders I climbed out of the shower and slipped into a pair of leggings and a tank top. “It’s all yours,” I said as I traipsed past the much too small bed on which the stranger was lounging.

“Hey, whats your name?” He asked and I stopped, realizing I hadn’t even thought to ask him his God damned name.

“Michelle,” I said, holding my hand out to him. He grasped it firmly and shook.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Sebastian.”

I fell into a fitful rest quickly after laying down and I didn’t wake up till the sun began to enter the room through the gorgeous doors that let out onto the little balcony. I took a deep breath, finally taking in the fact that I was in Tuscany, for a glamorous wedding, and I didn’t have to pay for any of it. Then I flexed my arms, realizing too late that what I had thought was a pillow last night was actually the hulking form of a man. Shit what did he say his name was? Sebastian. I pulled my arm away from him quickly but the damage was done.

“Morning,” he groaned, sitting up. I replied with a wave of my hand, too embarrassed to speak, hiding my head back in the sheets. I felt the mattress move as he slid off the edge and bustled around the room and then let himself out. Now that the coast was clear I sat up and rubbed my eyes, forcing myself to wake up. I pulled my hair up into a quick bun then looked around me for my phone. I had sent Liz a string of panicked texts last night about the room situation that she hadn’t replied to till this morning.

Sorry about the confusion. No, Sebastian isn’t a serial killer. Welcome to Tuscany! Meet us in the lobby at 10.

I glanced at the time. It was barely seven. I cursed jet lag as I marched into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I heard the door open while I was in the bathroom and stuck my head out.

Sebastian had returned with a porter, who placed a matching pair of brown leather suitcases in the closet (I guess all of Sebastian’s luggage hadn’t made it here last night) and then returned wheeling in a cart full of food. My nose perked at the smell of coffee and I hoped he was planning on sharing.

“So Liz finally confirmed that you aren’t a serial killer,” I said, leaning against a wall.

He smiled at me, “Oh, good. Well I just spoke to Joe, he told me the same about you.” I nodded, smiling now. “I got a little worried last night when you had me in a death grip,” he said, winking at me.

I cleared my throat and looked at the ceiling, “yea I’m a hard sleeper, I cannot account for the actions of my subconscious.” My gaze drifted to the cart with the heavenly smells of coffee wafting from it.

“Compliments of the bride and groom, for the mix up, I think we got in the way of some kind of argument they were having,” Sebastian said, handing me a white mug with cappuccino foam peaking over the brim.

…

It was two days before the wedding and I was beginning to think I should have delayed even longer. Liz had sent me instructions for both Seb and I to “dress casual” for the day which would be mostly wandering town. What I forgot was that casual meant something very different to a common working woman like myself than to the other rich Hollywood people I had to deal with on this trip. After greeting my friend finally and listening to her reassure me that I was not under dressed in my plain dark wash jeans and chunky sweater, I skulked to the back of the group taking in the dozen or so perfectly sculpted bodies adorned with designer heels, leisure jackets and other decidedly not casual ensembles. I had not seen my roommate come down to the lobby but as we headed out I noticed that he was wearing a very modest ensemble of black jeans, polished shoes and a blue denim jacket over a plain green shirt. I tipped my hat to him silently, either he was a normal like me or he was down to earth, either way I was glad to have gotten stuck with him rather than any of the others.

In the town of Sienna I lagged back, finding the group too noisy and attention grabbing. One of the tall skinny women in our party turned and waved at me, beckoning me closer. I took a few long strides to catch up with them.

“Your Liz’s friend that came in last night right?” She asked.

“Yep,” I replied.

“OMG, so your sharing a room with Sebastian then!”

Raising my eyebrows I replied again, “yep.”

“Well, whats he like?”

“Um, I don’t really know, I slept most of the time we were together, I assume he did too,” I offered in a confused tone. Who was this guy?

“But isn’t he so hot?” The woman asked.

“Well I was mostly concerned that he was a murderer when I first met him, I mean, he wasn’t happy and then I wasn’t actually sure he actually was with the wedding party.”

“But you knew who he was, so what did it matter if he was in the wedding party?”

Utterly confused I said, “Wait, who is he? Why should I know him?”

The woman giggled, “Sebastian Stan? He’s an actor in the Avengers franchise? He’s got a huge fan base and is notoriously private.

Okay so I didn’t really know much about those films but I was intrigued now and despite my greatest efforts to pay him no more mind than I had been, I noticed him more the rest of the day. Many of the women in our group would find reasons to stand next to him, they would grab his arm and laugh, or touch his chest. Interestingly, as the afternoon slipped into evening, he seemed to grow visibly agitated with all of the attention. By dinner time he looked like he was barely holding his polite facade together.

We were scheduled to all eat together at a very nice restaurant, however there was some conversation amongst Liz and Joe and our guides and they made a last minute call to eat separately. I was confused by this, the whole trip having felt micro managed up to this point, but I was glad to get away from the group that I felt so apart from and I took off rather than wait around for an explanation. There was a lovely outdoor patio bar down the street from where we were staying, so I leisurely walked that way.

The air was comfortably cool and I tilted my head back to breathe in the smells of the sleepy town as I sipped my wine. This was the kind of night I would have loved to enjoy with Lizzy, but that was before the days when she was famous.

“You must be American,” a voice behind me said. I turned to see two young Italian men standing behind me. As if that was an invitation to join me, they moved to sit in the vacant chairs on either side of me. “So what are you doing in our town?” One of them asked me in a thick accent and placed a hand on my knee, I shivered at how freely he touched me. I crossed my legs, shrugging his hand off of me. They both looked at ease and there were other people around us so it seemed generally safe, but I didn’t feel like doing this tonight. I slid my chair back, stood and walked to the far side of the bar, out of their line of vision. If they followed me I knew I would just have to leave so I steadied myself for that possibility.

It seemed at first like they had lost interest, but about ten minutes later I heard their laughter moving in my direction. But before I decided how to react I felt a warm hand settle on my lower back. “Hey, don’t freak out, It’s just me.” I looked up at the voice speaking into my ear and saw the grey blue eyes of my roommate. “There are two guys that have been staring at you from across the room, I wanted to make sure you knew that.” I nodded at him in thanks. But the men’s voices drew closer still so I turned to face Sebastian.

“Flirt with me,” I said to him.

“What?”

“They have already been bothering me,” I replied trying to keep my eyes on Sebastian and not give the men any reason to come closer. He nodded and moved closer to me so that we were sharing the same space. He kept his hand on my back and the other one combed through my hair. He touched his forehead to mine and laughed. After a second he drew away just enough to look up, scanning the bar for the two men.

I’m gonna kiss you okay?” He said. I gulped and nodded, after I had agreed, he drew my face up to his and very gently touched his lips to mine, leaving them there for a few seconds then breaking away from me. “They’re leaving,” he said and I sighed, though I honestly wasn’t sure if it was in relief or in reaction to the kiss.

…

I sat against the headboard of the bed, my hair drying from the shower and I flipped through the Italian television channels, trying to ignore how strangely domestic it felt to be sharing a hotel room with this person. A man who was apparently a very well known movie star who had recently helped me out of a sticky situation by kissing me. I held a cup of tea in my hands. I was bringing it to my lips when Sebastian emerged from the bathroom a napkin of a towel wrapped around his waist. My hands trembled just enough at the sight of his sculpted torso to spill hot tea all over my lap.

“Fuck,” I said as I stood, pulling the now damp fabric of my leggings away from my skin.

“You okay?” He asked, looking up from rummaging in his bag.

“I’m fine,” I shot back at him, “just put some goddamn pants on,” I muttered. He laughed and I squeezed my eyes shut, “I guess he had heard that,” I thought to myself. He straightened with a wad of clothes triumphantly held aloft then retreated to the bathroom again to change.

“By the way,” I said when he finally came back out, “thanks for the assist there in the bar.”

He winked at me, “Well I’m sure you’d do the same for me,” he said.

“But I haven’t,” I replied, “I have been watching women throw themselves at you all day and I did nothing to save you, “so really, what you did was an unselfish act.”

He walked to his side of the mattress that never felt so small and threw himself down, making the whole frame shake. “Yea, well none of them looked as hostile as those two men.” He shifted so that he was laying on his back distractedly watching the Italian soap opera that I had found. Soon he was breathing steadily with just a very light snore. I smiled and looked down at him. He really was very nice looking. He had well defined features, long eyelashes and full lips. I caught myself biting one of my own lips and rolled my eyes. Deciding that looking at him like this was creepy I switched the tv off and turned the light off, easing down into the sheets.

I was just on the verge of unconsciousness when I felt Sebastian’s arm wrap around my stomach and pull me into him. His body was relaxed but still solid. I hadn’t realized how big he was. I thought for a moment that I should release myself, that it was the right thing to do, but he wouldn’t know I was awake. Maybe I shouldn’t disturb him? He shifted again this time nuzzling his scratchy chin into the back of my neck, and if I wasn’t mistaken, his lips were pressed up against the back of my ear. Now throughly enjoying his contact I relaxed into him, laying my arm on top of his.

…

Sebastian’s alarm went off at seven the next morning, the day before the ceremony being filled with activities. I groaned at the shrill sound and was startled to realize my voice was muffled by something I was laying on. I moved my head around, trying to get my bearings without opening my eyes yet. It couldn’t be a pillow, it smelled too good and was too solid.

“Morning,” the thing under me said. I stiffened. Apparently I had managed to fully lay the length of my body on top of Sebastian in the course of the night. He was still on his back and his hands were resting on my bottom, my head was nestled into the crook of his neck and my hands were splayed over his chest. Instead of being embarrassed, I found that I really was just comfortable.

“Do we really have to get up?” I whined into his chest.

I felt his rumbling laugh, “Well I don’t really wanna face the wrath of Lizzy if we don’t show up on time,” he said.

“I thought you were my protector?” I said. He patted my bottom a few times and tried to shift me off of him but I wouldn’t budge.

“I’ll bring you up a cappuccino if you let me get up,” he said. With one more groan fit for the stage I let him roll out from under me. He stood over me for a second and I looked up at him with a mock hurt look on my face. And then before I had time to think, he leaned over me, one hand on either side of me and gently brought his lips to mine.

It was brief but lovely.

“I’ll be back,” he whispered in my ear before turning and leaving the room.

Now fully awake I wandered about the room, unsure of what to do with myself. I pulled out of my suitcase the outfit I was planning on wearing today. The “rehearsal dinner” was more of a rehearsal excursion to the countryside complete with a quartet to play classical Italian music and a wait staff serving Prosecco all day. Lizzy had said to wear “cocktail casual” but I had no idea what the hell that meant. I had settled on a dark burgundy romper. The neckline was a low v and the straps criss-crossed in the back. I laid it out on the bed and was still assessing it when Sebastian returned, a tray of coffee in his hands. Intoxicated by the smell I lifted one of the steaming cups off of the tray and retreated to the small balcony. The morning was cool and the view overlooked the mediterranean rooftops of the little town. I breathed deeply the crisp air and the fragrant coffee.

Sensing his presence behind me I spoke up, “I never would have imagined that visiting a place this beautiful would be such a headache.”

He came to stand next to me. Leaning forward so that his arms rested on the edge of the balcony, the entire side of his body made contact with mine. The heat radiating from him was soothing.

“It is beautiful here,” he said, looking at me, not the view. “Why is this trip so hard for you?”

I sighed, “I guess it’s not. I’m just being dramatic. I knew Liz way before she was famous. She and I had always talked about coming to Italy, about hiking and living close to nature. And this- this trip just shows how we have changed, thats all,” I said giving up. “And I hate all of her new friends.”

Sebastian laughed, “Well I’m gland that I’m Joe’s friend then.” I turned my head to look at him and he winked. Then he straightened up and pulled me into him, “is this okay?” He asked into my ear. I nodded silently, my stomach churning. “Well I think all her friends are jealous of you,” he continued to whisper in my ear, “know why?” I shook my head smiling a little as his words tickled my ear, “because they all want the natural grace and beauty that you have.”

I moved to face him, his large muscled body trapping me against the balcony rail. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my fingers tangling in his hair. He lowered his mouth to my neck as he pulled me closer to him. “Do you promise to come save me today if all those women don’t leave me alone?” He asked into my neck.

I squirmed at the sensation of his breath on me. “Of course Boo,” I said, patting his bottom in a playfully condescending voice.

He raised an eyebrow, “I think I like being your Boo,” he said moving from my neck to my lips, biting my lower lip playfully.

“Yea?” I replied.

“Mmmh,” was all he said.

“Then as my Boo would you please explain to me what the hell ‘cocktail casual’ means?”

…

After a bit of debate, Sebastian had convinced me that my choice of attire was perfect and he just so happened to have a shirt that matched my outfit, so we arrived in the lobby in plenty of time to meet the rest of the group. Unsurprisingly, I did stand out, most of the women wearing very short dresses and tottering on stilettos, however, when I considered that the alternative was having to wear a short skirt and heels all day, I decided I was happy with my ensemble.

We were ushered into a small bus that would drive us out into the countryside. The inside was nice, but Italians have a very different sense of space than Americans, as demonstrated by the very small seats. Because I had dressed for comfort, I was better able to maneuver my way to the back seat, so I found myself wedged into the very back corner of the van seated next to one of the men in the party who was a talent manager or something and wouldn’t shut up about all the famous people he worked with.

On top of that Sebastian was two rows in front of me, surrounded by needy looking women who were sitting too close to him and thrusting their scantily covered chests towards him.

Finally the bus stopped at a sprawling villa on the side of a mountain. I was antsy to get out both because of the view and because I was quite nauseous after all of the switchbacks we took to get up here.

The day was average, there were some speeches, a few games, lunch, and then drinks. During all of this I had noticed several footpaths that led into the surrounding countryside. As the group broke up into social clusters I slipped away, making a b-line towards a path that I was hoping would take me along the crest of the mountain to reveal more lovely views.

“Wait Michelle!” A voice called from behind me. I turned to see Sebastian scampering behind me, his jacket discarded and a few buttons undone on his shirt. Catching up to me he stopped, “may I join you?”

We followed the overgrown trail for several minutes, finally the brush gave way to a beautiful bald overlooking a valley that reflected gold and red in the low afternoon sun. I turned to Sebastian and found him looking at me. “What?” I asked.

“I want to kiss you,” he said simply. So I closed the gap between us and my lips met his hungrily. We pressed against each other desperately like we couldn’t get close enough to each other. Our breathing grew heavy and I got the sense that we were both wearing too many clothes, so with all my strength I pulled away from him. He let out a little whine and showed me his puppy dog eyes.

“I think we need to cool off a bit,” I said shakily. “If I take this thing off now then it’s not going back on,” I said gesturing to my romper. Sebastian nodded in defeat and took my hand as we walked back to the group.

…

As the afternoon turned to evening other guests of the the bride and groom arrived and the sweetness of the afternoon faded as my world went on repeat. I watched one woman after another try her luck with the dashing Sebastian Stan while I kept to myself, drinking alone. I wasn’t upset at Sebastian, I wasn’t really sure what to do with our short dalliance, was it just born out of convenience? Is it just something to pass the time on this miserable trip? No, what bothered me was watching the entitlement in the way these women acted. They knew they were beautiful or young or well connected and so they approached with confidence, but had very little to contribute to the conversation, literally “what you see is what you get.”

“Ah,” came a voice from over my shoulder, “you are the friend from Louisiana right? The one who Lizzy grew up with?” I turned to see a nice looking young man in a dark suit standing behind me.

“Who’s asking?” I said.

“Hi, I’m Dan, I’m a friend of Lizzy from LA.” He held out his hand, I took it, and in stepping closer I also noticed the alcohol on his breath and the slight waver in his voice. It had been a while since he was sober.

“Nice to meet you, Dan,” I said. He leaned into me slightly, as if he couldn’t keep his feet under him.

“Hey, do you wanna dance? Lizzy said you are a good da-dancer?” He said, hiccuping.

“Maybe in a bit, big guy,” I said, motioning to a waiter for a bottle of water.

“No, you look like you are here for- for a good time. Lets take this back to- back to my place.” He was too drunk to be intimidating but he was quite tall and I found it difficult to shift his weight away from me. Indeed he was very close to toppling over and taking me with him when suddenly his weight was no longer draped over me. Getting my bearings I looked behind me to see Sebastian helping, if a little roughly, to get Dan into a chair.

I didn’t think much of it, but I was surprised Sebastian had gotten to me so quickly. When some other guys came over to take care of the very sloppy and probably soon to be puking Dan, I turned my attention to Seb. He had moved to stand next to me and wound his arm around my waist protectively. “Thanks for the assist,” I said lightly. To my surprise, Sebastian didn’t think it was funny.

“Why don’t those kind of guys ever know when to stop?” He growled, his hand still firmly at my waist.

I turned to face him. “Hey, I appreciate the Feminist outrage, but I was okay, I didn’t feel intimidated by him like the guys in the bar yesterday.” I put a hand on his chest, waiting for him to slow his breathing. Finally he looked down at me.

“I think I was just jealous of your attention,” he said sheepishly.

“Well why the hell didn’t you come over here sooner, I’ve had to watch women fawn over you all evening,” I said with a little pout.

“But I thought you were gonna come save me.”

“I don’t compete with other women!” I said in a whispered yell, turning my back to him. I avoided him, embarrassed and feeling a little too tender after such a long day. Gently he twisted me back to face him. I didn’t resist, I did want to be with him here, but I couldn’t look him in the eye. Carefully, and slowly he tilted my head up till I held his gaze, then he brushed his lips against mine, holding them there just long enough for chills to run down my body and my breathing to quicken before pulling away. I moaned in frustration.

“You aren’t competing with anyone.” With that taste of drama that actors tend to have naturally, he pulled me into the light, closer to the music, and we danced. It was sensuous and romantic. We stayed close together, his nose buried in the side of my neck, my head laying on his chest as we moved in a slow circle. His hands would stray low sometimes, but I would pull them back up so they rested on my hips, and he would chuckle each time.

As the event wrapped up, we walked back to the vehicles together. And as if we had passed some invisible test, everyone left us alone, letting us sit together and talking around us.

Back at the hotel I paused to chat with Liz while Sebastian helped Joe out with something for the ceremony the next day. “OMG, I knew you two would be good together!” Liz gushed.

“Wait, did you do the room thing on purpose?” I asked.

She looked up at the ceiling, “I will not reveal my tricks, but just know that if you two are still together in a year I am so claiming that I set you up.” I rolled my eyes.

I made my way back to our room but was stopped by one of the pretty blonde women in the wedding party. “You are Lizzie’s friend from back home right?” She asked in a valley girl accent I thought had to be a joke. Thinking she had some scheme about the wedding tomorrow, I told her that, yes, I was her childhood friend. “Then what the hell do you think you are doing flirting with someone like Sebastian Stan?” She demanded, serious outrage in her face. I was startled, not expecting this little outburst.

I looked her over again, her makeup was looking a little fuzzy and I could smell vodka on her breath as she teetered on stilettos and pulled her dress down each time it slipped a little too high up her thighs. Before I could respond she continued, “I mean, look at you. You are at least a size ten, no make up, you are wearing flats for Christ sakes.” She gasped like it was the end of the world. “You have no idea the women who are interested in him. Models, actresses, I heard one of the Kardashians even made a pass at him. This is the big leagues little girl. You need to stay in your lane.” In parting she gave me a little push that I thought was more likely to have her on the floor than me.

I laughed uncomfortably as I made it back to the room. Sebastian was there, sprawled on the bed, his torso bare, a pair of navy joggers seated low on his waist. He looked like a snack. And all of a sudden I could only hear the words of that woman. I must have stood there too long cause Seb spoke up. “What did Liz do? Did she change something at the last minute? You look really distracted.”

“Oh,” I said, “Nothing, she didn’t change anything.” I turned away from him and reached behind my back to undo the top of my romper. Sebastian’s hands grasped mine and put them to my sides as he undid the ties, his fingers lingering on my skin. “Sebastian is this just for tonight?” I asked, biting my lip after the words left my mouth.

“Uh, I guess it can be, why?” He replied, his tone measured. I continued to stand with my back to him, needing the space to say this.

“I- I just don’t know how this would work with you being so mobile. I don’t want you to feel like this has to go beyond this trip.” I cut myself off, feeling like I was whining.

“Actually, I am kinda interested in making this work for a longer time. Where are you from? Louisiana? The long distance thing might be a challenge but I’d like to give it a go.” I gulped loudly, my arms and legs felt weak.

“Are- are you sure?” I pressed, feeling like I was in a dream.

“Have I overstepped?” He responded with a concerned look on his face. I shook my head fiercely.

“No, but why me? All those women who are prettier than me, they get the world you come from, you have so many options.”

I had moved away from him now, feeling exposed as I spoke, but he closed the gap between us. Pulling me into him, he gripped me tightly, protectively.

“I don’t want anyone else. You are intelligent, confident, beautiful. No one else has those things.”

I sank into him and felt a sob escape from my lips. A hand grasped the back of my head and pulled me in tight to his chest. I shook a bit with a few more sobs but he was there with me. When I had calmed down I reached up and kissed him on the jaw.

Stepping away from me, he pulled a shirt on and I made a disappointed noise. Laughing he said, “Why don’t you change into something more comfortable, and we can go to the bar and make people jealous.” Rolling my eyes, I smiled.

…

As we approached the bar Sebastian grasped my hand and intertwined our fingers. There was a small group from the wedding party that was gathered at one end of the bar. One of the guys called us over so we joined them, greeting everyone in the group. There was one available seat so I took it, Sebastian stood behind me and his hands lingered on my waist and hips. They were meeting to discuss a few last minute requests of the bride and groom, so I listened as attentively as I could with Sebastian’s warm breath tickling the back of my neck. The skinny woman who had trapped me in the hall earlier was staring daggers into us, but I just looked past her to the conversation happening.

After a few more minutes the conversation broke up. I noticed a few men pat Seb on the back as they left, our friend the skinny woman tottered off in a huff. I felt Sebastian shake a little as he chuckled. “That was more fun than I was expecting,” he said.

“Yea whatever, can we pleas go back to the room? It’s time for you to take your shirt off again.”

…

When we got to the room we both stripped to our underwear. We tumbled into the bed together, the playfulness of moments before leaving us quickly as we both let the exhaustion of the day settle in. Instead, we nestled into each other comfortable just to be with one another. I was laying on my back, Seb’s head resting on my chest. He clung to me, arms and legs wrapped tightly around me and thats when I realized we might actually have as shot.

…

It had been a month since the wedding. I sat nervously in the airport gripping my phone and my eyes glued to the arrivals screen above me. Finally I saw the word “arrived” appear in green next to his flight and soon after my phone pinged and it was a text from him saying he was on his way to baggage claim.

And then there he was.

In a tight t-shirt and joggers, his long legs brought him to me in a few quick strides. I brought him in close to me and squeezed him tight. “It’s been too long,” he said.

#sebastian sebastian stan sebastianstan fanfic imagine bucky

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3pirouette · 4 years ago

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Fic: She Wanted (1/1)

Title: She Wanted By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette Spoilers: CA: TFA Disclaimer: They're not mine. Word Count: 3100 Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Story Summary: Peggy wants to eat Skinny Steve alive.

Chapter A/N: Written for Steggy bingo Bash Prompt “Oral Sex” This is explicit and graphic. No fade to black stuff here. Strictly for adults. If you are not an adult, I highly suggest you skip this particular piece of fiction. ADULTS ONLY. Also, if you are not an adult who enjoys explicit sex acts, please ALSO skip this.

This is filthy. And also the prompt comes back around, I promise, it just takes a while. I’m sorry… or you’re welcome. I’m not sure which applies.

~*~ There were two things Peggy had heard about herself floating around Camp Lehigh.

The first was that she was a prude. Regarding this, she never felt the need to correct people, and it had never come up in her presence, so she didn’t pay that one much mind.

The second was that her particular shade of red lipstick would look beautiful with her lips wrapped around the base of a soldier’s cock, gagging it down. Now this, Peggy couldn’t much argue with. She did, in part, pick her particular color because she thought it made her lips look sinfully good. It made her feel desirable and powerful in a way that had nothing to do with the men around her and everything to do with how she felt when she wore it. If the red did just happen to turn heads, that was a positive side effect. The part about gagging down cocks she could take or leave.

Oral sex never held much of a draw for her. Her experiences, giving and receiving, had been largely underwhelming when compared with actual sex and hand jobs. She thought many of the solders would be scandalized to learn that Agent Peggy Carter, strait-laced Marge, had not only slept with her fiancé before they’d been engaged, but had been quite the experimental teenager.

She’d overheard a comment or two here and there, seen the men adjust themselves as she walked by, but it never fazed her. She was here for a job, a reason, and the meatheads she trained weren’t worth her time or energy.

They could imagine her gagging on their cocks all they liked, it didn’t mean their little fantasy would ever become a reality.

The soldiers at the camp never held her interest. She could appreciate a well sculpted body and wonder what they looked like under their uniform, or imagine how strong arms might hold her up against the brick wall out behind the mess, but her own fantasies were just that: fantasies, and they often vanished once she managed to actually have a conversation with the man in question. If they could jerk off to her lips in the showers, she could damn well slip her fingers between her legs and think about them fucking her from behind under cover of the munitions building.

She had needs, and getting them met in wartime often meant she handled things herself. It was quick and efficient, and had the lovely attached perk of not getting her in trouble for fraternization. If a private starred in a fantasy here and there, it made no difference.

Until Steve Rogers.

Until she found herself eager to get back to her bunk every night just so she could let her imagination run wild as she slipped her fingers into her slick heat.

The first time his face popped up in her mind she was surprised. So surprised, in fact, that she slowed her fingers to a stop, biting her lip and wondering where that had come from. All she could think of was his smile: his charming little smile, and without her notice her fingers began moving again, sliding against her lips and clit, teasing as she thought about his impossibly blue eyes and the way he smiled.

She came, hard, and spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, wondering what had happened.

The next night she tried to fit him into her favorite fantasy: a clandestine meeting behind the munitions building, soft touches of the hands before he pushed her up against the brick wall, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She tried to imagine him lifting her from her feet, and dissolved into a pool of giggles, thinking that she’d break the poor boy in half if she tried that with him. He was sweet and adorable, and his intense gaze made her nipples hard when he looked at her, but Peggy knew that he wasn’t strong enough to hoist her up anywhere, at any time.

The next day she tried not to think of those thoughts as she ran the group of men through calisthenics, but she couldn’t help take a peek at his ass when she walked behind them, couldn’t help but look at the crotch of his trousers as he stood at attention.

She wanted to make his cock stand at attention.

The thought hit her from left field and left her clit throbbing. She crossed her legs, hoping to relieve the painful tingle as blood rushed south, her mind conjuring up visions of what might lay under his baggy pants as she cued them to the next exercise.

Was it thick and short, like Fred’s had been?

Long and thin, like her high school boyfriend?

She’d had a one-night stand with a chap just before she’d met Fred, and his cock curved, long and thick and heavy in her hand.

Peggy couldn’t help but lick her lips, her mouth suddenly dry as her brain wondered if he was circumcised, and how he’d feel in her hand as she pumped him to completion across her chest.

They were on their backs now, Steve trying and failing horribly to complete sit ups. She imagined stepping over, sitting across his hips, and grinding on him like a teenager. She thanked god for the thick army issue clothes as she felt her panties soak through at the thought of taking him, then and there. Sinking down on his dick, long but thin she’d decided, rocking back and forth with her hands on his chest, rubbing herself on him, his dick inside her, his little breathy moans under her.

The whole garrison watching.

Those damn meatheads who joked about her being a prude being shown they were wrong, the ones who wanted her to choke on their dicks jealous that she picked Steve. That she chose Steve.

The image left her breathless, and wanting. It didn’t help that all she could hear were Steve’s little grunts as they flipped and moved on to push-ups. His breathless sounds were exactly how she imagined he’d sound under her.

Peggy wanted to make him breathless. She wanted to make him moan. She wanted to take his cock in her mouth and leave a ring of a red lipstick in the curls at the base.

From then on, he was her favorite nighttime subject.

Her usual fantasies had to be thrown out the window. He couldn’t lift her, couldn’t hold her down with his weight. But she did like to imagine him being forceful: ordering her to slide off her panties from under her uniform and sliding his thin, beautiful fingers up inside her. She liked to imagine him taking her in missionary, something she rarely fantasized about, because she liked the idea of wrapping herself around him, of feeling his whole body pressed up against hers and his full body weight pressing down on her when he’s finished. She imagined he undresses her slow, takes his time. She imagined he would take her with his mouth, slowly and carefully, raking his fingers over her thighs and through her curls, nipping and biting and finding out what she liked before covering every inch with his tongue. Swirling and sucking, his big, blue eyes looking up at her as she played with her own nipples, a slim finger, then two entering her, curling up, pumping in and out, his inquisitive mind trying things and learning quick until she was panting under him.

That was her favorite fantasy.

Her brain told her that he’d be shy about his body, his thin frame and his hip bones sticking out.

It made her want to lick every inch of him all the more.

The day he got the flag down was the day she decided she’ll have him, one way or another. The way he smiled at her from the back of the jeep sent shivers down her spine and to her clit. She rode back with her legs crossed, cursing and loving each and every bump in the road.

When she saw him dive on the grenade, intent on saving them all, selfless and sure, she was done for. She came hard that night, biting her pillow to keep from screaming his name as her fingers worked her sensitive flesh furiously.

She knew Phillips was against picking him, and that worked well for her plans. If he was discharged, she could ask him out. She could take him back to the little apartment off base that some of the girls shared to get some time away, she could lick him from ear to ankle and ride him until he came on the threadbare sofa. When they discharged him, she could have her way with that man and his gorgeous little smirks, his can-do attitude, and his persistence.

Then they picked him.

She barely had three days before he would be undergoing the procedure.

Erskine had, very clearly, told everyone involved that there was a chance of death, and yet they’d all signed up.

He’d signed up.

She lay in bed the night they chose him, hand sitting between her legs but unmoving. She felt no joy thinking that he might have only days to live. That she’d never be able to kiss the cocky smile off his lips or slip her hands in his pants to cup his balls and hear him squeak and moan in surprise pleasure.

She took her hand from her panties and brought her thumbnail to her teeth, worrying it as she stared at the ceiling.

A fitful sleep, and a long day of planning for the procedure, left her frustrated and tired the next night. She knew if she could get off she’d feel better, sleep better, but the worry was still there. She worried that her Steve, somewhere along the way she’d come to think of him as her Steve, would be hurt or lost in the experiment.

She closed her eyes and slipped her hand under the blanket, letting her fingers rest there, her other hand drifting over her breast. She tried to call up all sorts of fantasies, with and without Steve, but none of them worked. She tried one last time, taking a deep breath and letting the fantasy haze over her.

She shows up in his barracks in her robe and nothing else. He is the only one there. She gets on her knees and starts to unbuckle his belt, followed by his pants. He stutters, telling her she doesn’t have to, that he can’t ask her to do that. She smiles, bright red lipstick fresh on her lips, and cups him through the fabric. He moans and his objections are lost. She slides his pants down skinny legs. The thin, blonde hair is sparse, and she runs her nails through it, making him shiver. He’s throbbing, more than half hard. She stands, taking his shirt off and tossing it aside. She licks her lips before sucking a tiny, pink nipple in her mouth, her hand going to his cock as she feels it bobbing against her thigh. She pumps over him gently, slipping his nipple through her teeth before taking the other, her strokes getting more insistent. She kneels, and in one motion takes him in her mouth. She moves back and forth, one hand at his base, the other gently cradling his balls, and he moans. She makes him breathless as she swirls her tongue over the head, tickling that spot just under the tip that she knows is so, so sensitive before taking him as deep as she can go again. Over and over she repeats it, keeping a slow and steady pace. She starts to squeeze him at the base tighter, her hands more insistent as she moves quicker, sucking harder, letting her tongue press against him from base to tip over and over again, finally sucking at just the head until he grabs her shoulders, a stuttered warning coming from the back of his throat just before he comes, spilling his warmth in her mouth and down the back of her throat, over her chin and trickling down to her chest as she lets him fall from her lips.

Peggy came hard, her walls spasming against her fingers, her hand tight on the mound of her breast as she tried to keep from crying out, teeth biting herd into her lip.

She tried to force her ragged breathing to slow. She was shaking, and knew this would not help her sleeping problem.

She wanted to get up and go right then, her heart pounding in her chest and the adrenaline in her system made her brave. She wanted to undress him and let her red nails roll over his ribs, each and every skinny, exposed rib. She wanted to kiss his hip bones and press him back into bed. She wanted to see his face when she sat over him, naked. She wanted to know what it felt like for those fingers to pinch at her nipples, what it would feel like for him to pull and twist and suck on them as she rode him hard. She wanted to know if the sounds he made in basic, the grunts and moans and sighs, are the same sounds he’d make if she took him in her mouth and in her pussy.

Before she could lose her nerve she got up, wiping her fingers on her slip and throwing on the uniform she’d laid out for tomorrow. She pulled her pins out in a hurry and only bothered with eye liner and the red lipstick. Her boots took so long to tie she nearly changed her mind.

She was moving before she could stop herself, and found herself at his barracks, now alone that he’s been picked for the project, far quicker than she imagined.

She stood, staring at the door, fists clenching and unclenching, when the door opened.

Steve startled when he saw her there. “Agent Carter?”

She set her shoulders, determined and far calmer than she felt inside. “May I come in?”

He opened the door wide, even though it was late and dark and if they were caught it could be curtains for both of them. He was far too polite to tell a superior office she couldn’t join him. She could see by the way he squared his shoulders he expects her visit will be about the project, something serious.

Well, this was serious, but in a far different way.

“How can I help you?” He asked in his trousers, undershirt, and stocking feet. His bed was mussed, like he’d just been in and hopped out.

“I’m here on… on a private matter,” she said softly. Peggy licked her lips out of nervousness and couldn’t help but feel a thrill when his eyes dipped down at them.

“Oh?” he asked gently, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Yes,” she continued, trying to smile. “Quite unofficial, actually.” She turned away from him, hands fidgeting as she paced. She found she was much more nervous now with his bright blue eyes boring into her. “So unofficial that it could get me sacked, really.”

Steve tipped his head in confusion. “Agent—”

“Peggy, please,’ she corrected him, turning to look in his eyes. “I quite like you,” she blurted out.

His eyes grew wide, his shoulders pulling back in surprise. “You?”

“Yes. Is that so unbelievable?”

“Well, I mean a dame, no a girl- a woman like yourself,” he corrected himself, stuttering over and over again, and she felt a buzzing between her legs as a blush crept up his cheeks. “I’m just…”

“You’re just kind of wonderful, I think,” she filled in, moving closer. “And I needed you to know that before all of this continues.”

He smiled at her, radient. “That’s... I… I’m sweet on you, too.”

His confession warmed her from the inside out, emboldened her. “Then, perhaps, you’ll indulge me?”

He chuckled, and she thought maybe this was the most endearing she’d ever seen him. “I’m inclined to do anything you want right now,” he answered, somehow making it both flirty and a little self-deprecating.

“Oh, don’t say that yet,” she warned in a low, soft voice.

“Is this the part that could get you sacked?”

She smiled. “If we do it right.”

~*~

She spent that night in his bed, learning that he was respectably both average and thick, heavy in her hand but he prefers her mouth and she was happy to indulge. When he slipped inside her he felt like heaven and having his full body weight on hers when he finished felt like the best thing she’s ever known. He was unpracticed, and they fumbled more often than not, but when she came to him the second night things flowed smoother. He licked at her nipples like a dying man scouring the dessert for water, making her writhe under him. His eyes grew wide as saucers, watching her breasts bounce in the moonlight over him as she rode him. He watched her orgasm twice under his fingers, learning quickly where and how she liked to be touched.

She was shaking, from the thrill and the fear, as she left him that next morning to get changed, only to meet him at the front gate, ready to escort him to Howard’s laboratory.

Her heart pounded as she watched him in the pod, as she listened to him scream in a way she’s never heard and hopes to never hear again.

When he stepped out, she couldn’t help herself. She needed to touch him, needed to feel him under her fingers, needed to know he was alive and still the skinny, adorable man she’d fallen in love with.

She remembered herself, her station, and their location, before she managed to make a total fool of herself.

Her heart pounded in a different way now. His fingers were still long and thin but stronger and thicker, his chest was so broad she could curl up on it and stay there for days. His thighs and legs, his arms, every piece of him was stronger and larger and she felt conflicted as all of the blood in her brain started to rush south. She was already mourning the loss of his thin touch, the exposed ribs, the bumps of his spine under her fingers.

But she looked him over again, and knew that her fantasy about getting lifted in his arms and taken hard and fast against the brick wall behind the munitions tent was absolutely a real possibility now.

#Steggy Fic #Steggybingobash #3P's Fic

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takingcourage · 4 years ago

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Color and Light

Characters: Thomas Mendez, MC (Allison), and MC’s daughter (Kira)

Word Count: 2,400

Summary: With Luz away and Allison occupied for the morning, Thomas has a special strategy to pass the time with Kira.

Note: I’ve been wanting to write a story about Thomas and MC’s daughter for ages. The lack of scenes between them is one of the very few complaints I have about MotY, so I thought I’d fill in a little bit of that gap with this fic. It was originally intended to fulfill a Choices August Challenge (kaleidoscope), but life got hectic in August and it this story was pushed to the back burner. All of that to say, the summer setting and inspiration for this story aren’t quite as random as they may seem.

I hope you enjoy! Thanks so much for reading. : )

Crick.

Crack.

Thomas's stride broke as he became aware of the noise. Brow furrowing as he continued toward the kitchen, he mentally filtered through the possible causes: pipes, dishwasher, trash compactor... He was relatively certain that he hadn’t left anything running after making Allison’s coffee a half hour before. Whatever was happening in the kitchen must be taking place without his influence.

Bracing himself, he rounded the corner.

Though the room had no windows, the morning light still made its way into the space, relieving his fears before he'd even had a chance to flip the switch back on.

Nothing.

There was no burst pipe, no invading animal waiting to jump out at him from the countertops, nothing at all out of the ordinary.

It was the ice maker, he realized in relief.

Thomas couldn’t recall the last time the house had been quiet enough for him to make out the background noises. With Luz around, there was always music or the television or the steady thud of soccer drills against the outside wall...With a quick shake of his head, he padded to the other end of the silent kitchen to brew a second carafe of coffee.

The air conditioner was working; he could hear the distinct hum from the upstairs unit keeping the house a pleasant 74 degrees. Soledad had chosen the best. Almost fifteen years in this house, and it had never needed more than routine maintenance to keep things perfectly cool.

And yet, there was no mistaking the sheen breaking out on the back of his neck.

Stress had been mounting for the past twenty minutes -- ever since Allison had kissed him and slipped through the front door. Ordinarily, he'd be lacing his running shoes by now, determined to master the involuntary responses that his body was lapsing into. Today, he needed to work through it in another way.

Thomas glanced at the microwave clock, performing the calculations as he opened the refrigerator door to retrieve milk and a pair of eggs. Kira had gone to bed around 9:00 the night before. Based on the many nights she'd stayed over at the house since the start of summer, she’d wake up to join him any minute. Hot sweat returned with the confirmation.

This was hardly the first day he’d spent alone with a ten year old. It certainly wasn’t the only time he’d been with Kira without Allison there. But it was the first morning he’d spent without Luz serving as a buffer. Somehow, ten years of experience with one child hadn’t left him feeling prepared to take on the other.

He was a lawyer and a recovering workaholic, for goodness sake -- hardly the sort of person a preteen girl wanted to spend the day with.

Lowering the lid on the waffle maker, his eyes glazed over as the steam rose from between the metal plates. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, finally glancing away when the indicator light flickered on.

A creak sounded from the bottom of the stairs, and his heart flew into his throat. He cast a quick glance around the room before peering across the counter to the house’s other occupant.

“Morning, Kira,” he greeted, voice sounding mostly normal. “How’d you sleep?”

“Fine. That bunk bed is really comfortable."

“Great!” His response was a little too hasty. Pulling himself back, he topped off his mug of coffee, blew, and watched the wave ripple over the glassy surface. “I took a gamble and made some waffles for breakfast. Does that sound okay to you?”

Kira looked at the metal contraption with a curious half-smile. “It sounds delicious!”

“With orange juice?”

“Mmhmm, thank you,” she confirmed, already climbing onto a barstool. “Did my mom leave for class?”

Thomas snagged a plate from the overhead cabinet and used a pair of tongs to extract a perfectly golden-brown waffle from the mold. “She headed out about half an hour ago,” he answered before sliding her breakfast across the countertop.

Kira’s face puckered with disappointment. “She doesn’t usually leave so early; I thought I’d be up in time to see her.”

“She had to run an errand on the way," he explained. "Do you need to talk to her? You can borrow my phone if you want.”

Food forgotten, she set the syrup upright, its contents slowly oozing back down toward the bottom of the bottle. “That would be great! I wanted to wish her luck on her test.”

Passing her the device, he turned to give her some privacy. By the time he’d rinsed the mixing bowl and unplugged the waffle maker, Kira had composed the message.

“Keep in in case she texts back,” he suggested, reaching for his coffee again.

“Thanks.” She went back to pouring syrup, alternating squares in the waffle until she’d achieved a checkerboard effect.

Concealing his raised brow, Thomas took another sip of his drink. The two girls could not be more different. With Luz, it was always a challenge to keep her from using half the bottle. Kira’s measured approach was far less troubling by comparison. If the girls already fought like real sisters, they complemented one another perfectly as well. He’d lost track of the number of times that one girl’s vice had been counteracted by the other’s virtue.

Yet another sign that this is meant to be.

The phone screen came to life before their eyes, and Kira tapped to view her mother’s message. “She got it in time.” With a grin, she handed it back to Thomas. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.” Based on the angle, there was no way for him to take it without casting an eye over the messages.

Good luck, mom! You’ve got this!⚡️

Thanks! Love you, kiddo. ⚡️

Something within him melted on reading the exchange, though the sensation was quickly replaced by something far less pleasant: fear.

Allison knew Kira so well. It was one of the things that had stood out to them when they’d first met, and it had only become more abundantly clear in the months that had followed. And while Guy didn’t take much of an interest in his daughter’s life, Kira still seemed to thrive on the time they spent together. In short, she already had two parents. Where did that leave him?

Sighing as he slide the phone back into his pocket, he walked around to the other side of the kitchen so he could join her at the counter.

“Thanks for making breakfast,” she acknowledged as he sat down. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“I wanted to. It’s not often that the two of us get to have time together.”

Kira met his eyes with an amused smile. "True, but Luz is going to be jealous when she finds out we had waffles.”

“We’ll make them again when she gets back,” he promised, feeling the anxiety stir his stomach again. Breakfast was easy. If the rest of the morning ran as smoothly, it would be a miracle.

Kira cut another bite and chewed thoughtfully. "You're really good at it. The machine my mom has always burns the middles. Yours are better,” she whispered, green eyes narrowing with the conspiratorial whisper.

“Maybe we should buy her a new machine one of these days.”

Swallowing her bite, Kira regarded him with a creased brow. “But she can just use yours -- we’re over all the time! And it would be silly to buy another one when you’re just going to get married.”

Thomas could only hope that the girl wasn't perceptive enough to notice the way his cheeks darkened at the suggestion. He forced a sip of coffee down and tried to counteract his mortification. “What makes you think we’re getting married?”

“Luz told me she found a ri--” her face froze. “Nevermind. I don’t know anything. Forget I said that.”

Sensing an opportunity, Thomas pressed her further. “Do you want us to get married?”

"Yeah." The corner of her mouth lifted as her eyes crinkled. “Mom’s really happy when she’s with you, and Luz and I would get to be sisters for real! It would be perfect.”

He smiled in agreement before deciding it would be prudent to change the subject. “How should we spend the rest of our morning?”

Inadvertently, the question came just as she’d placed another forkful of waffle into her mouth. Thomas offered a repentant chuckle as she worked over the bite of food, though she didn’t seem to hold it against him.

“I brought a book,” she informed him after swallowing. “I can be super quiet while you’re working. Oh! Or do you have a case I can help with? I could read tracking numbers to you again if you want.”

“Actually,” he began, growing almost shy with the suggestion, “I was hoping you might be up for a science project today -- whatever you like.” He set his near-empty cup on the marble surface, hoping he hadn’t misstepped.

“Really?” Her eyes flashed to life again, scrunching up at the corners in exactly the same way Allison’s did when she was passionate about something. Even if he’d never met her mother, the girl’s expression would have been impossible to resist.

“Really. It would be fun to make something we can show your mom when she gets back this afternoon.”

“And Luz, when she gets back from soccer camp!”

“And Luz,” he added with a grin. He wondered vaguely if the two girls would be so eager to see each other once they were living under the same roof all of the time. “I’ll let you decide on a project while I clean up from breakfast. Doesn’t matter what it is.”

“Okay!” she took a pensive bite while he walked back around to the kitchen. “You’re sure it can be anything?”

“Uhhh,” he wavered, remembering too well the sorts of things that ten-year-old girls were capable of when there were no boundaries. It’s Kira, he had to remind himself. At worst, we’re looking at a bunsen-burner fire or some kind of mild chemical reaction. “Anything,” he confirmed after a pause.

“Okay, I figured it out,” she announced moments later as he was wiping down the countertops.

“And...?”

“I wanna make a kaleidoscope!”

“Sounds perfect, though I think we’ll need to go on a supply run. Can you make a list?”

She held out one hand to begin ticking items on her fingers. “Well, I’ve already got confetti for the bottom. Faye gave me a bunch from one of her promo boxes and told me to use it for something cool. If we can run by our apartment, I know exactly where it is. After that, we’ll need some PVC pipe, mirrors, a glass cutter, a petri dish....” Still bending her fingers, she paused for further consideration.

“You’ve really thought about this, haven’t you?”

“I’ve wanted to make one for forever!” Catching herself, she backpedaled a bit. “If you’re sure it’s okay...”

“I have one condition...” Squeezing the excess water from the towel, he draped it over the faucet to dry. Kira’s eyes were glued to him when he turned, her brows slanted with something approaching consternation. “You have to explain what you’re doing each step of the way so I know how it works.”

Her mouth fell open for a beat before snapping shut again. “Sure!”

This time, the smile that came to Thomas’s face was a little more confident. So far, so good.

_____

For the next several hours, all worries were in vain. There were no awkward silences or stumbling uncertainties. Each minute was consumed with questions and explanations, safety tutorials for cutting glass, excited strategizing, and careful construction. They’d just started clearing up their lunch dishes when Allison’s key clicked in the lock.

“Mom!” Kira rushed to finish loading her plate in the dishwasher. “How was your test?” Her whole face was lifted in anticipation.

“I passed with a 96%.”

“You’re so smart, mom!”

Retrieving the elastic band from her wrist, Allison swept her hair into a loose bun at the nape of her neck. “And you’re so sweet. Thanks for the energy zap this morning.”

“Welcome! Do you wanna see what Thomas and I made?”

At Allison’s eager nod, Kira led her to the den. Thomas stayed behind until the rest of the dishes were in the machine, content to hear their lively chatter a couple of rooms away.

When he joined them, Allison was waiting by the arched doorway. “Kira’s never going to forget this. I can’t thank you enough.”

"The pleasure was mine. And I have to admit, it was a very educational day for me. I didn’t realize how rusty I’d gotten in geometry and physics.”

“She’ll keep your mind sharp, that one.”

“One of the many perks to having the two of you around.”

“Ooh! Look at this!” Kira called out in the closest thing to a shriek that he’d ever heard from her. “The pattern is sooo cool. It looks like a gamma-ray burst!”

Taking the proffered object, he held it to his eye and squinted until he had a proper view. Between the mirrors and the lights, Faye’s bits of paper had taken on new life in a pattern that was at once both uniform and wild. And though he had only the faintest idea what a gamma-ray burst looked like, satisfaction took hold of him as he gazed through the tiny opening.

Since her birth, Luz had been his light. She’d carried him through on the days when he hadn’t even been certain he wanted to go on. For a time, that light had been all he’d needed. But Allison and Kira had brought more to the equation: a beauty, a vibrance, a curiosity and passion for life that he hadn’t even realized he’d been missing. Together, the three of them made for a fuller world than he had ever thought possible.

“Did you know they’re the brightest explosions in the universe?”

“I didn’t,” he whispered, careful not to shift the design as he passed the cylinder back to Kira.

Thomas settled next to Allison, her shoulder a comfortable weight against his while they listened to the enthusiastic science lesson that followed. As her fingers sought his, Thomas’s thoughts drifted (ever so slightly) to the ring Luz had found a few days before. If all went the way he was hoping, his home -- and his life -- would never be colorless again.

#playchoices #playchoices fanfiction #mother of the year #thomas mendez #thomas mendez x mc

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