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pathologicalreid · 2 months ago

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for the fear of falling apart | part five

there's one last chance for everything to fall apart, but this time you aren't at the center of disaster - Spencer is

series masterlist

who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: angst content warnings: lots of future talk (marriage and pregnancy), takes place during 15x10 "and in the end", explosions, the chameleon arc, spencer's hospital stay, sibling loss, diana's alzheimers, canon cm violence word count: 7.34k a/n: so this is the last part! i can't resist doing an epilogue, so a cutie little "where are they now" part on the horizon, but this was always the way it was going to end. as always, telling me your thoughts is the sexiest thing you can do.

“She’s not a threat,” Spencer pointed out, carrying on a conversation with you while he adjusted the straps of your bulletproof vest, pulling it tightly around you to cover as much of your torso as possible. You’d complain about him taking away your ability to breathe but if it brought peace to his busy mind, you could sacrifice your full lung capacity.

You flattened your palm against the SWAT truck for support while he resumed tugging at the Velcro straps of your Kevlar, “Speak for yourself! You’re not the favorite stepdaughter of a woman that you can’t stand.”

Deciding your vest was as secure as it was going to get, Spencer stood up, sharing a look with the SWAT commander before turning his attention back to you, “Why are you the favorite stepdaughter again?”

Dramatically, you tilted your head back and looked at the sky, “Because JJ had a child out of wedlock. I’m the favorite by default.” It was funny to think of your stepmother choosing you as a favorite, but you supposed the pickings were rather slim. “Hey,” you continued, “There’s an idea.”

“Uh huh,” Spencer responded mockingly, “Pick a new subject, please.”

Rolling your eyes, you rested fully against the armored truck, scuffing your boots against the gravel driveway to Everett Lynch’s house. “You’re no fun,” you accused, trying to use your family issues as a discussion to pass the time before you had permission from Emily to put your plan into motion.

Spencer hummed in response, watching your sister as she answered her phone and hopefully received instruction from Emily. You didn't like lingering out here like sitting ducks, no matter how many armed agents there were with you.

Matching JJ’s gaze, she nodded to you and Spencer, letting you know that Emily had given the go-ahead.

Quickly, Spencer slipped his phone from his pocket and dialed the number that he had previously memorized. You heard the phone ring as he held it up to his ear, and then a woman’s voice came through, “No, Roberta my name is Dr. Spencer Reid and it’s important that you listen to me right now.” He fed the Lynch matriarch instructions over the phone, “Even though you have the gun, the moment your son realizes you’re not gonna shoot him, he’s gonna get the upper hand.”

You couldn’t make out her response, but based on the way Spencer’s eyebrows were pinched together, you worried he wasn’t getting through to her.

“Yes,” he answered over the phone, “but first you need to let Olivia walk out of there, okay?” The next step was simple enough, and not long after he spoke, you saw the teenager run out of the house.

JJ had the opportunity to take the Chameleon out earlier that day, but he’d used Olivia and her diabetes as a bargaining chip. You lingered with Spencer while JJ ran out to meet her, gently guiding her behind the barricade to the waiting ambulance.

Instinctively, you set your hand on your firearm as a single gunshot rang out from the house, “Roberta,” Spencer urged, “that warning shot is what’s about to give you away, but we can help. Are you ready for us to come in?” He waited almost too long before speaking again, “Roberta?”

He looked back at the SWAT captain as everything hinged on Roberta’s response, and when Spencer gave the order to breach, you took your spot next to the armored truck. Your instructions were very clear, you were in charge of Everett once he was apprehended, and JJ was in charge of Roberta.

Across from you, JJ’s phone rang, you couldn’t hear either end of the conversation, but you could see the fear in her eyes when she looked up at Spencer and all of the other SWAT agents headed toward the structure. You took a few steps forward, trying to follow after Spencer, but JJ shouted your name and caught your attention right as the bomb went off.

The blast warped your perception of time. You looked back at the house on fire before your eyes automatically searched for Spencer. Everything was moving in slow motion, but even so, there he was, on the ground. “Spence,” you yelped before scrambling forward, dropping to your knees at his side.

Spencer started to rise from the driveway, propping himself up on his elbows. He likely couldn’t hear you, based on the way your own ears were ringing while you checked him over for injuries.

“Are you okay?” You asked him anyway, “Baby, can you hear me?” He tried to sit up, but you settled your hands on his shoulders, “No, it’s okay, stay down.” You continued to speak to him, taking time to shout instructions for the now scrambled first responders.

JJ called your name again, causing your head to snap in her direction, “Your head is bleeding,” she told you, jogging toward you and Spencer.

You rose on shaky legs as your sister took your face in her hands, frantically checking the wound that you couldn’t feel. Waving away paramedics, you urged them to assist the downed SWAT agents instead of you, “It’s fine, Jayg,” you breathed, straightening yourself out and keeping an eye on Spencer.

“Are you feeling alright?” You whispered to Spencer, noting the lack of focus in his eyes, you resisted the urge to wave your hand in front of his face.

He hummed in response, “I’m fine.”

Unable to help it, you frowned at him. ‘Fine’ had been his only sensation from the moment you arrived at the hospital in Reno until now. ‘Fine’ was a term used by people who were avoiding any genuine emotion, and you couldn’t entirely blame him. Last you heard the casualty count from the explosion was up to seven – including Everett and Roberta Lynch.

He’d gotten an MRI at the hospital – not that you’d given him much choice – and it came back clear, so the rest of the team wasted no time in having the jet prepared to return to Quantico.

It wasn’t the silence that unnerved you, it was the absence of activity. Your sister sat in one of the chairs, periodically turning her head to check on you, Rossi and Matt had claimed their own spots throughout the aircraft, and you and Spencer were sequestered next to the galley. Everyone seemed to be disassociating from the events of the day.

You willed Spencer to pull a book out of his bag and start reading. You silently begged him to do something that you could find comfort in. Instead, he noticed you staring and leaned over to gently kiss the unmarred side of your forehead.

Taking a raincheck on Penelope’s vision-boarding, you made sure the two of you got home in one piece. “Do you need to clean it?” Spencer asked, gesturing to the mark on your forehead.

You kicked off your shoes in the entryway, rubbing the exhaustion from your eyes as he sat down on the couch. “No, maybe in the morning,” you responded. “Are you gonna come to bed?”

“In a bit,” he offered, leaning his head back to look at you one more time before you disappeared into the bedroom.

There were a lot of things about the day that didn’t make any sense, but the one thing you couldn’t wrap your head around was Everett Lynch’s suicide. Not to be mistaken with sympathy, you didn’t understand how his particular personality type could choose to blow itself up. He was too confident, too narcissistic for that.

The doubt kept waking you up, each time you hoped to find that Spencer had finally come to bed. Once the clock struck four in the morning and he still hadn’t come to lie down, you crawled out of bed, expecting to find him asleep on the couch.

Your heart dropped when you found him on the floor, dried blood crusted around his nose, deathly still.

Phone, phone, phone – where was your phone?

Grabbing his phone off of the coffee table, your head spun as you dialed 911, crouching next to him as you tried to make out the sound of his breathing.

In a four-in-the-morning fugue, you went through the motions, answering all of the dispatcher’s questions, all of the paramedic’s questions, and all of the nurse’s questions.

The emergency department nurse looked at you sadly, not much more than a pile of limbs in a stiff plastic chair, “Is there anyone I can call for you?”

Swallowing thickly, you shrugged in response. You wanted her to call everyone and no one at the same time, building up walls around yourself made of materials that you couldn’t name. You needed to call Emily. You needed to call Diana. Frowning at the nurse, you gave it another moment of thought before responding, “My sister.”

JJ didn’t answer.

The nurse tried her twice and you called once from your phone, but there was no answer.

Spencer didn’t wake up. Dr. K didn’t seem confident that he would.

Like a metronome, the steady beeping of Spencer’s vital monitor nearly lulled you to sleep until the ringing of a phone interrupted the pattern. Your phone buzzed in your pocket and your stomach lurched at the realization that your sister was finally calling you back, “I have been trying to reach you all morning.”

Your sister was silent on the other side, and you wondered if you had come on too strong. “What happened?”

The world was falling apart around you. Your castle was crumbling with you in it. You looked longingly at Spencer before you answered, “I think he’s dying.”

Time passed in an inordinate pattern, convincing yourself that hours had passed when it had only been minutes. You had moved your chair to Spencer’s bedside, tracing the scar on the inside of his palm in time with the steady rising and falling of his chest.

“Have you been here all night?” Your older sister’s voice rang from the doorway, she didn’t wait to be welcomed in, immediately moving to the side of the bed opposite to you.

Your eyes followed her hand as she gently set a palm on his shoulder, her blonde hair curling around her face as she studied Spencer’s appearance. Quickly, she caught herself, straightening up and making her way around the bed so that she stood behind you, smoothing a hand through your hair like she did when you were just kids.

Penelope followed behind JJ on a delay, her skin paling at the sight of Spencer in the hospital bed. She stood at the foot of the bed, placing her hands on the footboard and taking several deep breaths.

“I went to bed without him last night. I wasn’t sleeping well, so when I woke up at four in the morning and he hadn’t made it to bed I went to see if he had fallen asleep on the couch, but he was just… on the floor,” You told them absently, watching Spencer as he slept and recalling the way you had found him in the apartment. His body contorted from falling on the ground with a puddle of blood beginning to gather beneath his head.

You couldn’t look at them. You couldn’t look away from him knowing that it could be the last time you see him alive. “What do you need?” JJ asked, continuing to smooth down your hair.

Clasping his hand in yours, you nodded to yourself reassuringly, “Can you call Brookfield? I need to talk to Diana. If she’s lucid enough, can you ask if they can bring her here? If he… she should be here.” Sinking into an abyss of unknowns, at the very least you knew that he’d want his mother here with him.

The two blondes shared a wary look, and you steeled yourself for a difficult conversation. Penelope left to call Brookfield on your behalf, but JJ stayed behind, dragging one of the plastic chairs over to the bed so she could sit next to you. “We got the casualty report back from the medical examiner in Reno,” she informed you; her voice was low – the tone she took up when she wasn’t sure how to navigate a situation.

You nodded in understanding, waiting for the bomb to drop.

“There were six SWAT agents, Roberta Lynch, and Orlando Gaines,” she told you gently, watching your face for any sign of a reaction.

You frowned, expecting her to add Everett Lynch to the tally later on for dramatic effect, but the moment never came, “Oh,” you breathed, looking at Spencer.

JJ continued to explain that, based on the blueprints of the house that he had pilfered from one of his victims, he had likely escaped using a tunnel system beneath the house. The Chameleon was in the wind, and Spencer might just be his latest victim. “We know he’s not done though,” JJ tried to reassure you, “He’ll resurface somewhere.”

“We don’t know where and we don’t know when, though,” you told her, an edge of despair creeping into your voice. He should’ve died. Everett Lynch should be dead, and you shouldn’t be sitting next to Spencer’s hospital bed right now. “And Spencer might die for no reason,” you added. There was a slight chance that you could, someday, find comfort in Spencer succumbing to injuries sustained in a blast that took out The Chameleon, but with Lynch still out there, you were struggling to find any glimpse of a silver lining.

Your sister looked at a loss for words, reaching out her hand and dropping it to your knee when you didn’t take it. She mumbled something about letting it go for Spencer’s sake, but Spencer was unconscious, if you held on to your grudge against your sister, he was none the wiser. It brought you back to something he had told you after Grace Lynch shot you – I don’t want you to forget your anger.

Glancing over at her briefly, you took a deep breath, “You should get back to Quantico – the team will need you to catch Lynch.”

“No,” she said, pinching her brows together, “I’m going to stay here.”

Pursing your lips, you gave her a sidelong glance, “Why?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you going to stay here, JJ? Do you want to stay at the hospital for my sake or for Spencer’s?” Keeping your hand tucked into his, you didn’t budge when she pulled her hand off of your knee, and even then, you had your answer. “I’m asking you to please, go back to Quantico and find Everett Lynch. Spencer will have me, his mom, and Penelope with him and I need you to find the person who did this to him. I’m asking you to go, so you aren’t staying for me.”

She was looking at you in pure disbelief, “Ducky, I don’t-“ She faltered, “I thought we were all friends again. You told me you understood where I was coming from.”

Nodding in agreement, you recalled the conversation you had with her while Spencer was with Cat Adams, “I told you I understood how you could be in love with him because I’m in love with him, but I have limits, JJ, and there comes a point where I just can’t understand why you keep using your love as a weapon.”

“I- I’m not,” she insisted, but you could hear the unease in her voice.

You shrugged, “Maybe it’s not your intention, but you are fighting a one-sided battle. You’re married and Spencer and I are engaged, and you have single-handedly destroyed our relationship.”

JJ scoffed in disbelief, “You and Spencer seem to be doing just fine.”

“I’m not talking about me and Spencer, I’m talking about me and you,” you corrected her. “At Rossi’s wedding, you told me that you had meant what you said to Spencer when you were in the pawn shop, and every day since then you have refused to give me the space that I’ve asked for.” Your hands shook as your eyes flittered between her and your fiancé, “You’re my big sister, JJ. You’re always going to be my big sister, and I am always going to love you because of that, but we aren’t friends, so don’t try to pretend you’re doing this for me.”

She tilted her head to the side, “I didn’t want space – you’re my sister.”

“But I needed space,” you emphasized, the one thing that JJ had never seemed to understand. You were the one who got hurt in the process, “I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired, and I can’t pretend to be your friend anymore while you can’t even be a decent sister. You tell me that you and Spencer have all of this history, that you’ve known each other for fifteen years, but you’ve been my sister for thirty-two. You keep asking for me to hear you out, and yet you haven’t once listened to me. Go back to Quantico, go find Lynch, and be my fucking sister.”

You couldn’t be friends with someone who had been long harboring a crush on your partner, and it didn’t make sense for you to make any exceptions for her. “Okay, I’ll um… I’ll go,” she told you, hesitating for a moment before she nodded to herself and walked out of the room. You knew what you told her stung, you were sending her out with her tail between her legs, but you didn't have the gracefulness to coddle her anymore.

Slowly, you leaned your head down, gently setting your chin on the sidebar of Spencer’s hospital bed, keeping a watchful eye on him even as tears streamed down your face.

Your eyes were dry by the time Diana arrived, being guided by one of her nurses and intercepted by Garcia, who had known better than to ask any questions when your sister left in a hurry. With your sight zeroed in on the rising and falling of Spencer’s chest, you listened to the conversation, “Oh, Diana, hi,” Penelope said, unable to hide the panic in her voice, “Hi, it’s Penelope. I work with Spencer. I’ve come to see you before,” she explained.

Garcia had tagged along multiple times to see Diana at Brookfield, which was likely why they were so receptive when she called the facility. “You’re almost as tall as I am,” Diana responded and your heart sunk, worried that she might not be stable enough to face this.

“Diana,” Penelope continued gently, “Spencer fell, and he hit his head really hard, and he’s not conscious.” Her words were carefully chosen to avoid raising any alarm.

“Well, let’s wake him up,” Diana insisted, and you straightened up at the sound of footsteps approaching, “Let’s see him.”

Penelope practically stumbled in behind her, “No, wait.”

His mother nodded, not even acknowledging you as she walked in, “He’ll listen to me… Spencer,” she called to him. Seconds later, you saw it, the moment the switch in her brain flipped and an internal war started, “it’s not him,” she murmured. “No. No, no, no,” the conviction in her voice broke your heart, “This is not my son.”

Silently, you sat back in your chair, trying to think of something you could say to her to reassure her, but you couldn’t even console yourself.

Then she reached out for his hand, turning his wrist over and exposing the inside of his wrist, the small star-shaped scar that marred his skin facing the ceiling, “Oh, my baby,” she breathed. “Oh, my baby,” she leaned over Spencer, smoothing his hair away from his forehead, cupping his face with her hands, and begging with an unknown force, “Oh, please.”

Unable to tolerate the sight of her begging for Spencer to wake up, you quietly got up from your chair, hugging your arms around yourself before walking out of the room.

For years, Diana and Spencer had been all each other had, and you couldn’t imagine what this was like for her. To have her son fighting for his life in the hospital while she spent every day trying to hold on to fleeting memories of him. You couldn’t watch her, afraid of losing him. It wasn’t supposed to work like that – parents weren’t supposed to have to bury their children.

You thought about calling your mom, knowing she’d drop everything and drive the four hours to come be with you, but maybe it would be cruel. It would be cruel to have her watch a parent lose a child when she had lost her own.

Leaning your head back against the taupe walls of the hospital, you glanced over at Penelope, giving her a stiff smile.

“Hey, you,” she said, shoving her laptop in her bag before making her way over to you. “How are you holding up?”

You laughed humorlessly, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes before looking back up at her, “I’m not entirely sure that I am.”

Her eyes were filled with grief, and you knew that she was another person in Spencer’s life who didn’t deserve more loss, “Can I get you anything? Have you eaten?”

Food had been approximately the last thing on your list of concerns today, but you hadn’t eaten since Reno yesterday. You shook your head, “I’m not hungry,” You were actually a bit queasy, but you weren’t entirely sure if you were nauseous from your current predicament or if it was because you hadn’t eaten anything. “Maybe later,” you tried to appease her.

“Okay,” she sighed, “I don’t know what happened between you and JJ, but I do know that something happened. I might not know what it’s like between sisters, but I do know what it’s like to be a sister.” Garcia gave you a soft smile, “Do you need to talk about it?”

Desperately. Your chest ached at the idea of being able to talk to someone else about what had gone down between you and your sister, but you shook your head, “I’m sworn to secrecy.”

The understanding expression on her face deepened the ache in your chest, but she reached out and pulled you into a hug, “I know the two of you will figure it out.” She pulled away, sweeping tears from under her eyes, “I know you said you’re not hungry, but I’m going to go down to the cafeteria and I’ll get you something to pick at. You look like you need it.”

You smiled at her concern and gave her a small wave as she made her way through the hallways. It was sweet that she had faith in the sororal bond between you and JJ – even more than you had, but you just didn’t see it the way she did. There had always been an expectation of you and JJ growing up that you’d always make up because you were the only sibling that each other had left.

That expectation had led to a lot of issues being swept under the rug, maybe too many issues, but you couldn’t forgive JJ, not fully. Even under the weight of the obligation to forgive her for the sake of your familial tie, you couldn’t let this one go. JJ had broken any semblance of trust between the two of you, and even if you worked to rebuild that trust, the cracks were always going to be there.

When you and Spencer had fought and you knocked a bowl off of the counter, he made a remark about how the bowl could be fixed with kintsugi, but the bowl would always have cracks, no matter how pretty the gold looked in the seams. You and JJ would never get back to where you had been, and now, you were sure that you didn’t want to go back.

Wiping a few stray tears from beneath your eyes, you nodded to yourself before walking back into the hospital room, introducing Diana and Dr. K before the doctor gave you some information, telling you that Spencer’s brain was bleeding.

Tilting your head to the side, “No, I made sure he got an MRI at the hospital. The doctor there told us it was completely clear,” you assured her, remembering how you refused to let Spencer board the jet without getting an MRI.

Dr. K nodded, “We got the scans sent over from the hospital in Reno, there’s a small bleed that was possibly overlooked. From what you’ve told me, it seems like they were overwhelmed and needed to get other people through,” she told you, making it seem like no more than a clerical error.

“So…” you dragged out the vowel, trying to wrap your head around this reality, “His brain’s been bleeding since yesterday?”

The doctor affirmed your suspicions, “Boarding a plane with even the smallest of brain bleeds can have catastrophic consequences. In Spencer’s case, it’s caused intracranial hemorrhaging. Parts of his brain are shutting down and other parts are struggling to survive.”

Your stomach flipped at the mention of his brain shutting down, the term was far too close to brain death for comfort, “Is he… is he already gone, then?” You asked, faltering over your words.

“No,” she gave you some reassurance, “There’s a chance that his brain bleed will resolve on its own.”

“But not a good chance,” you observed, taking Spencer’s hand in your own. “Is there anything that can be done?”

The doctor adjusted the tablet in her hands, “The conservative approach would be surgery. It may reduce the swelling around Spencer’s brain faster. There is risk, it could cause seizures and even more bleeding,” she explained to the both of you.

The image in your mind of brain surgery didn’t bring you any reassurance, you looked up at Diana. Until you and Spencer got married, she was his next of kin. Spencer didn’t have any kind of healthcare directive for a situation like this, and you weren’t entirely sure where to go from here.

His mom shrugged at you, shaking her head, “I thought it was Tuesday, and it’s not Tuesday. So, I can’t tell you,” she answered, looking at you helplessly.

Turning your head to Dr. K, you asked, “Could we have a minute?”

The doctor gave you both an understanding look before stepping out of the room.

“What would he want?” Diana asked you, looking at you expectantly, “I don’t want to make the decision.”

Abhorring the idea that you would be the one to make the decision, you looked up at Diana, “I’m not sure,” you admitted.

“He always says he trusts you the most,” she told you. “Oh, for years in his letters, he’d always talk about you. Even before you started dating – it was always about you in a way I’d never heard him talk about anyone,” she continued, nodding as if she were convincing herself. “If he trusts you that much, then I have no problem trusting you.”

You didn’t want it to be up to you, and before you had the opportunity to answer, the alarm on Spencer’s vital monitor started going off. “Oh my god,” You breathed, moving back to allow the nurses space as they crowded around Spencer’s bed.

“What’s happening to my boy?” Diana asked, placing her hands in front of her mouth in shock, “What is happening to him?”

Watching quietly as he seized, you listened to his mom cry out for him and decided you wanted to wait a bit longer before resorting to surgery.

Picking at the bread of the sandwich that Penelope had gotten you from the cafeteria, you found yourself more amenable to sipping at the water she had brought you than you were toward actually eating something. According to Garcia, the team was hot on Everett Lynch’s trail, but she wouldn’t give you any more details than that.

Periodically, Spencer’s hand would twitch, but you told yourself it didn’t mean anything. You tried not to get your hopes up, not until Dr. K said something reassuring.

With the doctor in the room, there were four pairs of eyes watching his every move, no matter how minuscule. You leaned back in the chair, gently tracing the lines in his palm, “His… his eyes are fluttering,” you observed aloud, not daring to look away, afraid your mind was playing tricks on you.

“That’s a good sign,” Dr. K said, leaning forward and observing the same thing as you.

Penelope inclined her head to look up at the doctor, “Is he gonna be okay?”

She looked uneasy, “He’s putting up one hell of a fight, but it’s still too early to know for sure,” she answered diplomatically, checking something on her tablet before excusing herself.

Shortly after, Garcia’s phone started to ring, she brought it out into the hallway, letting you know she’d be right back.

Leaving just you and Diana in the room with Spencer, you watched as she continued to smooth his hair back, being able to see the maternal gesture made your chest ache – you never knew how many more moments there would be. “Has he been here before?” She asked you, “In the hospital, like this?”

You nodded slowly, moving through a fog of exhaustion as the day came to an end, “Yes,” you told her, memories of Briscoe County bubbled to the surface.

“Were you there for him?” She continued, wondering if someone had been there for her baby when she couldn’t be.

You had sat around his hospital bed with Alex and Penelope, waiting for him to wake up while Penelope set up Doctor Who figurines throughout the room. “Yes,” you answered again.

“Oh,” she sighed, “How awful,” she commiserated.

While a corrupt precinct wasn’t a new concept to the BAU, that case had been particularly difficult on the team, and there had been a day, much like today, where you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to tell Spencer you loved him again.

You didn’t tell him you loved him before going to bed last night.

“It was, actually,” you remembered, previously buried memories of time spent in hospital rooms. Months ago, your roles had been reversed, and Spencer had been the one begging you to wake up.

After a moment, Diana leaned forward a bit, “Spencer,” she spoke to him, “I saw some cumuliform heaps today. His favorite clouds,” She added the last bit for you, “I plucked that for him,” she explained as Penelope came back into the room. “Everything is up there, and we pluck what we want when we want, and we let go what we don’t.”

Penelope grinned, “That sounds very good. Okay, I am plucking a memory about Spencer’s eyes, and they are brown with gold on the outside,” she posited.

Diana hummed, “I think they’re gold on the inside.”

Tantalizingly slowly, Spencer’s eyes started to open, and your heart raced as a mix of emotions flooded through you. As your eyes met him, you smiled sadly and whispered, “Gold on the inside.”

“Hey,” Garcia said, the smile plain in her voice, “we were just plucking eye memories of you.”

He returned the smiles in the room, “I heard you.” Spencer hummed, “Forgot how much I loved those clouds, mom. You helped me remember.”

Diana grinned, any remaining trace of grief wiped from her face, “I did, huh?” Well, maybe I can come back tomorrow, and we can watch clouds together,” she offered.

“Am I still dreaming?” He asked rhetorically.

“Sweetie,” she cupped his cheek with a maternal gentleness, “You are very much alive.”

Once Diana was on her way back to Brookfield and Penelope – still not providing you with any details – left to go check in with the team, you rested your head on the armrest of his hospital bed, maintaining a watchful eye on him. “I love you,” you whispered to him after Dr. K left for the night.

He hummed, tired eyes looking back at you, “You’ve said that three times in the last ten minutes.”

“And?” You inquired, furrowing your brows.

The corner of his mouth quirked up, “And I love you too.”

You smiled at him, “Thank you for having a traumatic brain injury so I could delay my stepmother’s visit.”

At that, he fully grinned up at you, “It was all part of my plan.”

A thousand words rested on the tip of your tongue, asking him how he was feeling and about healthcare directives and how he chose his favorite cloud, but everything felt so important and so inconsequential at the same time.

“You should go home,” he spoke before you had the chance to, “Get some good rest, sleep in a real bed.”

You shook your head succinctly, “I’m gonna stay here.”

He raised his eyebrows, “The nurses will keep coming in all night and wake you up,” he insisted, knowing well enough that the hospital chairs did not make for a good night’s rest.

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t have anywhere to be but here tomorrow,” you told him, thumbing the fabric of his hospital blanket as you insisted on staying.

Spencer shifted slightly on the bed, trying to get a better look at you, “You need to take care of yourself.”

His concern comforted you, but you still shook your head, “If I don’t stay here next to you, I’ll drive myself crazy. This is the best place for me.” You picked your head up, reaching out to cup his cheek and smiling to yourself when he leaned into your touch. “What’re you thinking about?”

His head lolled lazily on the pillows, brown eyes – with gold on the inside – studying your features like he was trying to make sense of something in his muddled brain, “I had a weird dream.”

Most of the time, Spencer didn’t give credit to dream analysis, so when he had dreams that he deemed inexplicable, he’d make his head spin trying to find a logical reason. “Maybe it’s a side effect of the seizure medication they put you on,” you proposed, skimming the apple of his cheek with the pad of your thumb.

Spencer didn’t look convinced, “I saw people while I was unconscious.” His attempt at explaining gave you more insight on what he was struggling with, he had a complicated relationship with the concept of the afterlife.

“Oh, yeah?” You asked softly, hoping the two of you could talk it out.

He nodded almost indeterminably, “Strauss, Foyet, Gideon,” he elaborated, opening his mouth to add another name, but he faltered when the time came.

“Your brain was looking for manifestations of guilt,” you analyzed, each of those deaths had affected him in one way or another. “Using your past traumas against you,” you continued.

He still seemed unsure, “I’m not sure that’s all of it, some of it, sure, but…”

Your chest ached at the confusion in his gaze, “Was there someone else you saw?”

He sighed, leaning his head back against the pillows and looking at the dimmed fluorescent lights of the hospital room, “A little kid. A girl,” he told you, closing his eyes as if he was trying to recall the child from his dream.

“Well,” you considered it, “If your brain was using the other three as a manifestation of guilt, maybe the little girl is a manifestation of hope. The part of your subconscious telling you to stay formed her to represent the people you can still help.”

Spencer frowned deeply, looking at you again, “I guess I assumed there was a deeper meaning to it.”

You raised your eyebrows, “What else do you think it could be?”

“I thought…” he faltered, “I’m not sure.”

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked you, already starting to walk through Dave’s house to where everyone was gathering on the patio.

You stood in the foyer, pressing your lips together as you shifted the strap of your purse over your shoulder before finally hanging it up. Looking up at Spencer, you dropped your arms to your sides, “What?”

His eyebrows furrowed in concern, “I asked if you were alright. Are you?”

Your eyes widened, “Oh, oh yeah. It’s just weird, you know? Pen leaving,” the half-truth slipped easily from your lips.

“It feels like everyone’s changing except for us,” he said, returning to you in the foyer so that the two of you could walk outside together.

“Ha,” you said humorlessly, “Right.” Penelope was leaving, having decided that Silicon Valley was too far for her, but landing a job with a nonprofit in D.C. and leaving the BAU behind. Emily was house hunting in Denver, not for a permanent move, but for something for her to share with Andrew.

You and Spencer were staying with the BAU, he wanted to split time between consulting and teaching, similar to what he had done during his sabbaticals. “Well,” he ceded, “We’re not changing much.”

The two of you emerged onto the patio hand-in-hand, being on the receiving end of welcoming smiles that had an air of relief. Everyone was still in that phase of remembering how grateful they were to have him around every time they saw him. “How ya feeling, kid?” Rossi asked, standing around the table with Krystall.

Spencer set his hand on the small of your back before responding, “Feeling great, and I’m starting back next week. Can’t let the team be down two members,” he mused, looking down at you reassuringly.

Next to you, Tara scoffed, “Oh, come on, teaching and consulting? You’re making me look bad.”

“Just doing what I love,” Spencer replied candidly.

Luke raised his champagne, “Hey, I will drink to that,”

You prepared yourself to turn down a drink, thinking up an excuse until Penelope stepped out onto the patio, “Uh, you’re not supposed to start the festivities until the belle of the ball has arrived,” she jokingly protested, giving everyone a little twirl in a very Garcia-fashion.

Leaning into Spencer slightly, the two of you watched as Luke put his hands up in defense, “Don’t worry, okay? ‘Cause this is gonna be the first of many.”

“Penelope!” Kristy called out from across the table, “Congratulations! Here I thought we were coming to celebrate Dave’s retirement, but Matt said it’s your farewell party. And you had like a hundred offers,” she said, beaming from across the table.

Garcia waved her hand in faux humility, “Oh, that’s only if you round up, but yes,” she said excitedly. “Anyway, it’s a nonprofit, it’s close to here, and the dress code is all FBI conservative like I’ve been having to do,” she said, ignoring the doubtful looks that were shared around the table.

“I’m still in denial that you’re leaving,” JJ told her mournfully, a slight frown on her face.

Matt shook his head, “It won’t be the same without you.”

“Better not be,” Penelope scolded, her tone suggesting that she found the idea ridiculous.

Emily leaned over the table to clarify for Kristy, “Dave decided he wasn’t going to retire. He didn’t want the team to go through too much of a transition all at once.”

“That’s ‘cause Dave’s never gonna actually do it,” Krystall interjected, saying what many members of the BAU had also thought.

“Hey,” Rossi protested in mock offense, “Look, being with you all, doing what few others can, that’s where I belong.” He turned to Garcia, “But this night is not about me. To our beloved Penelope – a salut.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Luke and Penelope wander off to the patio, the two of them seeking out water. You made a mental note to ask her what it was about just as Spencer approached you, “Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?”

You waved off his concern, making your way over to the house, hoping there were hors d’oeuvres remaining in the kitchen. “I’m fine, this is Pen’s night,” you explained to Spencer as he followed you.

“Right, that’s reassuring,” he responded sardonically, trailing close behind you through the kitchen.

Turning back to him, you pleaded, “Can you let this go? Just for now.”

Spencer frowned, “I thought we were working on our communication.”

Silently, you cursed him for bringing up your therapist’s – who was likely going to have a field day when she found out – tactics. “Spence,” you complained, hating how your voice sounded like a whine.

“Y/N,” he answered in kind.

Groaning, you looked around the kitchen before dragging Spencer into the pantry by his shirt. You flipped the light on and looked up at him, “I had my yearly physical this morning.”

He knew this, in order to remain eligible to stay in the field, everyone needed to have a yearly physical performed by an FBI physician. The concern on his face deepened, “I- Are you okay?”

“I’m pregnant,” you breathed, the words that had been balancing on your tongue for the better of the day. You wished you had been able to give him a better announcement. A card or a onesie, anything would have been better than turning Rossi’s pantry into a confessional.

Instantly, you saw the gears turning in his head as he tried to do the math, “That would mean…” he started, eyes widening as he came to different conclusions.

You nodded, “I’ve been pregnant. They couldn’t give an accurate estimate based on just the blood test and I’ve been trying to figure it out, but-“

“Eight weeks,” Spencer answered, the concern refusing to waver as he studied your appearance.

He was looking for signs and trying to remember symptoms, and you didn’t blame him. You had always assumed you’d have some idea, but you were so shocked that the FBI physician had insisted that you lay down before driving home.

The same surprise was pasted across Spencer’s face now, his hands tentatively placed on either side of your waist, thumbs hovering over your abdomen, “You were pregnant when the house blew up in Reno.” His voice solemn as he held back any excitement, “Did the doctor… is everything alright?”

“He said if anything had happened as a result of the blast, we’d know by now,” you offered some reassurance, having shared the same worry when you found out that morning. You wanted him to be happy, because once Spencer was happy about this, you could be happy.

Spencer shifted his weight, “But you made an appointment with an obstetrician, right?”

Slouching slightly, you looked up at him, “First thing Monday morning. Spencer-“

“If I had known, I never would’ve let you go to Nevada,” he interrupted, instantly protective.

“Spencer,” you startled him, “Are you happy?”

He paused and your chest ached more and more with every moment he remained silent, “Did you think that I wouldn’t be?”

You released a small sigh of relief, smiling at him sheepishly, “It’s just… it’s a surprise,” you offered quietly. “Is it awful timing?”

“No,” he insisted, pulling you in by the waist and wrapping his arms around you. He leaned his head down, tucking his face into the crook of your neck, “It’s perfect,” he reassured you. “I love you,” he whispered, voice muffled as he held you tightly – held you together.

The two of you remained that way until a knock at the door came, “Hey, uh,” Luke’s voice rang out from the other side of the door, “If you guys are doing freaky shit in Rossi’s pantry he’s gonna be pissed.”

Standing up straight, you clasped your hand over your mouth in an attempt to cover up your laugh. Spencer looked equally as amused, dropping a kiss to your lips before reaching behind you to open the door, revealing Luke and his impish grin.

He threw his hands up in the air, looking at the both of you as he walked backward out the door, “I was sent in to get you. Rumor has it they’re about to play the belle of the ball’s favorite song.”

You and Spencer shared a knowing look, “Heroes,” the both of you said in unison.

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nightwngz · 3 months ago

Note

Oh my beloved, here's a little idea for you!

'Am I the asshole for dating my best friend's ex?' Where Barry absolutely couldn't let slip the opportunity to have Hal's pretty ex for himself, well, she doesn't belong to him anymore right?

Like, he sees that she's so sad because of the breakup and he's just so nice, gentle, kind with her, why not give him a chance? Barry knows that it must sucks to not have someone to kiss :(((

— 𝓔𝐱 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 ✩!!

barry allen x fem!reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀… Smut. Dirty talk. Fingering, p in v.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁. . . no copying of my work is allowed. Free translation is allowed as long as I am credited.

𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲. . . as I said in my other posts, English is not my first language. I have tried to make corrections with the translator, but as you all know, it is prone to making mistakes, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or if anything sounds weird.

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲. . . Omg, omg! You practically read my mind because Barry is practically my current obsession. By the way, sorry for the delay, dear, I didn't quite know how to write it. 💗

Barry and Hal have always been best friends. They got along so well that even when you were dating Hal, it never occurred to you that Barry might betray his trust, not even if you suggested it yourself.

And after spending so much time going out with your friend and sharing dinners, lunches, and breakfasts, with a bit of a hangover in between, you started to think that Barry could also become a good friend for you.

Even after you broke up with Hal, Barry continued to stand by your side, supporting and indulging you.

Though you never suspected him of double-dealing, Barry remained neutral about your breakup. It's not that he didn't care about Hal; in fact, he had more than once questioned whether he was doing the wrong thing by approaching you, even after you and Hal had ended things.

But yes, he was a complete asshole for approaching you in the first place, and he was even more of an idiot for falling in love with his friend's girlfriend in the first place.

He had fantasized about Hal's girlfriend countless times, and many of those times he had to restrain the desire to touch himself by thinking of you, so as not to betray him.

But it wasn't until he saw you crying on the floor of your apartment with a bottle of alcohol in your hand that he realized you were no longer his best friend's girlfriend. The relationship had ended, and although you were still dealing with the aftermath of the breakup, there was nothing that alcohol and other distractions couldn't alleviate.

"Hal is my friend, but sometimes he can be a real jerk. Don't worry, if you need to vent, go ahead," he suggested, trying to be friendly.

However, when you took his lips without permission as a means of release, Barry neither objected nor resisted. He thought that given your situation, it must be terrible not to have anyone to kiss.

Sad thoughts about Hal vanished the moment Barry's tongue entered your mouth. Maybe it was just what you needed to forget, since not even he, as your ex's best friend, seemed to care what Hal might think, and even less so did you.

Barry had inevitably thought of Hal. He couldn’t help but remember his friend while his ex-girlfriend’s tongue slid into his mouth and he felt her hips moving until she was straddling his belt. However, he didn’t stop; in fact, the thought that she no longer belonged to him crossed his mind, which only drove him to continue.

It was too late to regret when he felt your hands sliding down his hips, pulling at his clothes. He couldn't resist pushing you onto your back, landing on top of you and pinning your body against the couch.

He kissed you desperately as if you were his last meal, holding you tight with his hands and his tongue on your mouth, exploring every inch of your skin that was still hidden under the fabric he hastily removed.

Even as he slid his fingers aside your underwear, without removing it completely, to enjoy caressing your wet crotch, he smiled. He knew he had what he so desperately wanted, like a whimsical child with his new toy.

"Did Hal miss out on all this? Too bad for him that now I have to take care of this tight pussy." He whispered in your ear with a grin, licking his fingers gently so you could hear the obscene sound close up.

And finally, when he got inside you so deeply that tears welled up in your eyes at the intrusion, you felt completely convinced that you had done the right thing by breaking up with Hal, something that Barry also agreed with. You smiled at the thought that he had taken advantage of the situation and looked at him, convinced that he had orchestrated the whole thing for his own benefit.

"Don't look at me like that, honey. It's not my fault that Hal missed how deliciously tight your pussy feels. . ."

#dc comics #dc universe #smut #the flash #barry allen #barry allen x reader #barry allen x fem!reader #barry allen x y/n #barry allen smut #hal jordan x fem!reader #hal jordan x reader

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enhaheeseung · 11 months ago

Text

Come back to me - L. HS

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader

Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, crying.

WC: 2,889k

Part twelve

Masterlist

“Heeseung?” You say, bewildered by his sudden appearance. The last thing you expected was for him to show up at your house.

“Hi, y/n,” he says softly. “Can we talk for a little bit?” You give him a nod. He smiles and turns around to close your door while you take the opportunity to hide the pregnancy test inside one of the pillowcases. “May I?” He gestured to the empty space on the bed beside you.

“Sure,” you scoot to the side, allowing him to sit next to you. “The other day when I walked out, I’m sorry, and I’m sorry for not saying anything. I was just going through some things.”

“I understand.” You patted his shoulder softly, the small touch making him feel at ease as it did you. You just missed him so much that you couldn’t resist touching him and you scooted closer to his side, desperately needing to feel his presence and warmth again.

He looked over at you, eyes as soft and vulnerable as they could be, one of the many things he absolutely adored about you was just how understanding you were at all times. “I brought you a little something,” he said, holding up the little booklet that had been in his hand since he came in. “Can i show it to you?”

“Sure,” you smiled.

“Okay.” he took a deep breath, opening up the book, revealing a multitude of different pictures of you guys on various occasions.

You gasped when you saw the first picture. It was the two of you together at prom. “Hee,” you said quietly, already becoming emotional.

“I never told you this or anyone, but that night, I knew you were the one I wanted to marry,” he smiles, tracing his thumb over the photo. “Even though you spilled punch on my tux and I stepped on your toe during the slow dance,” he chuckled while pointing to the next picture. “This was when we graduated together, and I finally got the courage to ask you out later at our celebration party that night. I couldn’t decide what made me happier, graduating or you being my girlfriend, but now I can confidently say asking you out was the best thing I’ve ever done in my life, well next to asking you to marry me.”

You stared at him fondly, a small laugh escaping your lips as you took a trip down memory lane.

To hear your laugh again was one of the best things ever. It’s been so long that he almost forgot what it even sounded like, and after today, he’d never take your happiness for granted.

“Best day of my life.” he flipped the page, showing you both on your first day of college together. “The day I proposed, and you said yes,” he unknowingly placed his hand on your knee, rubbing it softly. “You remember how everyone thought we were crazy for getting engaged so young, but little did everyone know that we were already madly in love. We were so obsessed with each other it’s like no one else in the world even existed except for you and me.” he glanced up at you briefly before moving to the next page. “And then the big wedding day, I still remember it like yesterday. I couldn’t stop crying to save my life, and then when you came down the aisle, you looked so beautiful I thought I might faint.”

“Oh, hee,” you sighed softly, resting your head on his shoulder and looking at him with tears in your eyes, prompting his eyes to get teary as well. “And then when we kissed, you did faint.” You laughed through your tears.

“But you caught me and saved me like the angel you are.” he rested his head on top of yours, kissing you softly. “That night my life was complete, the night you made me yours, and I made you mine.” he closed the booklet, leaning back to look in your eyes. “My angel,” his eyes sparkled with tears. “And then I ruined everything.”

“No, no, no,” you turned towards him, immediately cupping his cheeks and wiping the endless tears that flowed from his eyes.

“I’m so sorry.” his shoulders shook the harder he cried, and it killed you to see him so sad and so weak. “I’m sorry that hurt you, and I’m sorry for all the mistakes I made, and I hope you can forgive me,” he sniffed. “I’m just so lost without you.”

“Come here,” You didn’t have to tell him twice. He immediately leaned into your arms, sobbing like a newborn baby as you stroked his back reassuringly.

“I don’t deserve you.” he clutched onto your shirt, holding you tightly.

“Stop, hee, please don’t say that you’re a wonderful husband, okay?”

“Not anymore.” he buried his head on your shoulder, shaking his head back and forth in denial.

“Yes, you are. I know you’ve made mistakes, but you apologized, you’re sorry and that’s all that matters okay? you showed me that even after everything, you’re still the same man I said yes to. You’re still the same man who took me to prom, the same man who asked me out, and the same man who kept his promise in high school and married me.” You pulled away from the hug, looking him directly in his eyes. “Heeseung, you’re the same man I fell in love with, and after today, I think I fell for you even harder.”

His tears began to subside, a smile gracing his pouty lips even though he tried his best to hold it in, but it was impossible when the love of your life loved you just as much as you love them. “Really?” His frown returned as more tears threatened to spill out from his eyes. “You still love me even after I messed everything u-“

You cut his words with a kiss, your thumbs stroking his cheek as you deepened the kiss. It took him a few moments to return it out of pure shock, but soon enough, his lips were working in sync with yours, and he melted. You were so gentle and loving with the kiss that it made his knees feel like they would give out any minute. Lucky for him, he was sitting; otherwise, he would have fallen.

He gripped your shirt, his fingertips tracing your waist as he leaned in to feel more of you. “Y/n I love you too I love you so much” he talked in between kisses breath hot and heavy as you tangled your hands in his hair making him gasp.

“Missed you” You straddle his waist hands tugging in his hair as he groans into your mouth, and you couldn’t help but hump against him, your core needy with heat and arousal.

“Not more than I missed you,” he moaned into your mouth, the warmth of your core exciting him beneath his trousers, and soon enough, you felt something stiff under you, fueling you to grind against his bulge with more urgency.

“Hee,” you moved your kisses to his jawline, licking just beneath his earlobe where you knew he was the most sensitive.

“Oh,” he moans, hands slipping to your backside as he guides your hips, rocking you back and forth on him. “You’re so soft,” he says, roaming every inch of your body until his hands cup your soft breasts, kneading them as you make out with his neck. “Missed the way you feel,” he gulped harshly as you worked your hips in rough, needy circles.

As much as he wanted this to continue, he had to stop just to make sure. “Wait, wait, wait,” he pulled you away from you despite you trying to chase his cheery red lips.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, concern laced in your tone.

“Nothing, it’s just.” he lowered his head, his grip on you loosening. You held onto him tighter the moment he felt like he was slipping away. “Are you sure you want to do this? With me? I know we have been apart for a while, and maybe there’s someone else, or maybe you’d lik-“

“Are you done?” You asked, lips hovering over his as he whimpered out a small yes. “And to answer your question, I’ve never been so sure. What about you?”

“A thousand percent sure don’t want anyone else but you.” he leaned forward, connecting your lips together. “This okay?” He rushes out, hands gliding under your shirt.

“Yes, hee, you don’t even have to ask. I’m yours, all yours,” you moan, pulling on his hair, desperately rutting on his clothed cock. “Always been yours.”

“Me too, angel, I’m all yours.” he cups your breast, massaging them softly, his warm thumb pads playing with your nipples that got erect under his touch.

You threw your head back as his lips danced across your warm skin. He kissed your exposed chest, running his tongue along the perfect dip in your collarbones.

He groans, bucking his hips to meet yours. “Need more hee.”

“Arms up, angel,” you obey, immediately lifting your arms as he grips the hem of your shirt and tosses it across the room, your perfect mounds staring back at him as he sucks a nipple into his mouth, humming in satisfaction.

He slips his hand inside your waistband, feeling up your backside. The warmth of his hand meeting your bare skin made a shiver run down your side, your panties getting wetter by the moment.

He flicked his tongue on your nipple, working you up to the point of no return as his hand pulled and squeezed on your right breast.

“Feels so good, hee,” he moans against your chest, releasing your nipple with a quiet pop sound before switching to the other and repeating the same actions.

“Yeah?” He seamlessly gripped your thighs, hoisting them around his waist as he laid your back down on the mattress and hovered over you. He rolled his hips, sticky precum seeping through the thin material of his slacks as he ruts against your warm core, his mouth latching onto your neck while he pinches your nipples softly. “How about now?”

“Even Better.” You tilt your head back, giving him access to every inch of your neck as your hands travel to his butt, helping him move back and forth.

He smiles at that, leaning back momentarily to slip his shirt off, joining yours on the other side of the room.

You gasped when he revealed himself, and your brows furrowed with worry when you saw just how thin he had gotten since you’d been apart. “Hee,” you whisper as your hands meet his chest.

He leaned down, resting on his elbows, giving your forehead a kiss before lacing your hands together and pressing his chest against yours. “Missed you so much you have no idea, couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, didn’t even work while you were gone.” he hid his face in your neck, peppering you with soft kisses.

“Hee, I’m so sorr-“

“Shh, it’s not your fault. Besides, I’ve never felt better in my life,” he reassured you, quickly getting back into things by nipping on your shoulder, making you gasp as you arched your back, pressing your core against his groin.

“Angel, I need to feel you” he squeezed his eyes shut tightly, hissing as he rubbed his leaking cock over your pajama-clad heat.

“Me too,” you confess. “Take me hee, make me yours”

He quickly shuffled off the bed, easily removing his bottoms.

The sight of his cock made you clench down around nothing as you gripped the sheets tightly, impatiently waiting for him to undress you and make love to you. “You look better and better each time, my love.” You stroked his cheek once he was back on top of you, and you could have sworn you saw him go red.

“T-thank you” he whispers, his hands gripping the hem of your pajamas and underwear pulling them off at the same time, he wishes he would have prepared himself for the sight before him but even then he still would have been left completely breathless by your beauty. “You look so pretty.” He compliments.

“Thank you,” you reply as you both laugh softly, and just like that, you’re both baring to each other, but he doesn’t rush anything, and neither do you. He slowly lays over you, tucking some hair behind your ear as he kisses your temple and you wrap your legs around him.

He tilts his head to the side, silently asking you for a kiss. As his lips meet yours, he drags his shaft along the length of your entrance, soaking himself in your essence, the thick head of his cock teasing your hole every time he moves his hips.

You take turns gently sucking on each other's tongues, your hands on his back leaving little claw marks as he grips the sheets from the sting mixed with pleasure.

After countless rolls of his hips, he comes to a stop, his tip slowly easing inside you as he pushes forward. “Oh,” he loses the rhythm of the kiss parting from you due to the overwhelming amount of pleasure as he sinks inside.

“Hee,” your nails dug into his back, harsher than before, your walls pulsating on his cock as he enters you inch by inch filling you up till there’s no more space and you’re completely stuffed full of his thick girth.

He nuzzles his face against yours, toes curling as he starts out slow. “Angel, you feel so good, so warm,” he whines right next to your ear, his body shuddering as his tip makes out with your cervix.

You closed your eyes, head rolling back from the sheer intensity of the moment. You felt so overwhelmingly full, and it just kept getting better with every stroke. His tip was fillling you out so perfectly, leading the way for the rest of his thick length to massage your wet walls. “Don’t stop, hee, please.” You clung onto him for dear life, never wanting to let him go cause he felt too good.

“I won’t. I promise I w-won’t.” despite his stutter, his strokes are still smooth and precise as he picks up the pace, the wetness between your bodies emitting sticky sounds in your bedroom.

“Baby feels so hard and big,” you moan in his ear, your hips moving on their own as you meet his thrusts halfway.

Your words make him whimper as he props himself up on shaky arms and looks down at you with his forehead covered in sweat. “All because of you, angel. You always get me so hard I just can’t help it when you feel so wet and warm.” you bite down on your lip, your hand running along his bicep as you squeeze it softly, your other hand busy smoothing over his left nipple and the moan he lets out sounds like the sweetest song you ever heard.

He slips his hand between your legs, gathering a bit of your guy's combined arousal to rub on your clit. “Yes, hee, oh yes,” you squeeze around him so tight he can barely move, but he forces his way in your tight walls, making you see stars.

“Almost there, angel, can feel it” he captures your lips as he rubs your swollen clit speeding up his thrust just enough to have your cream on his dick. “I love you,” he whispered hurriedly as he shook your hand off his bicep to clasp it with his. “Love you much.”

“Hee!” You moan loudly, your high just seconds away. “Me too. I love you so much, hee,” you pant uncontrollably, eyes threatening to roll back in your head.

“Come on then, angel cum for me” he pressed his lips to yours. The action mixed with his thrust and the pleasure he applied to your clit was enough for you to reach your limit, him trailing right after you.

“Cumming hee,” you mewl, body quivering as you come undone all around his hard veiny cock.

“There it is.” he leans back to scan your pleased face, and he can’t hold back anymore. “I’m cumming, oh y/n, I'm cumming!” just seconds later, thick hot seed fills your pleasured walls as he throbs inside you and empties out his love for you deep within your silky heat.

He looks down at you. His brows furrowed, mouth hung open as breathy moans leave his lips, his hips not stopping until he fills you up entirely and strokes out your highs together.

“Kiss me, hee.” You reach for him, pulling him closer by his nape and smothering him in your kisses and love, and he can’t think of anywhere else he would rather be than right here inside you and inside of your arms.

When you both calm down a bit, he gently pulls out, getting ready to go to your bathroom, but you quickly pull him back into your arms cause cleaning up could wait. Cuddling him couldn’t. “Stay,” you whine, and he immediately puts his arms around you, hugging you close to his chest while he throws a blanket over you both.

“Okay,” he whispers and kisses the crown of your head. “Thank you for forgiving me. I love you so much, and I’ll never ever do anything to hurt you ever again, I swear it.” he meant that wholeheartedly. If he ever did anything ever again to make you feel sad or hurt, he’d never forgive himself.

“I know,” you said confidently, trusting his word one hundred percent and you kissed his chest softly. “And I love you too.”

He smiled so wide that his cheeks hurt but he didn’t care. All that matters was you being in his arms again. “I’m so happy.” he squeezed you in the tightest hug ever. “Thank you for coming back to me.”

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️

Permanent taglist:®• @nyxtwixx @iamliacamila @ramenoil @mimisamisasa @scarlet127

Come back to me taglist @mimikittysblog @woahsehun @dunnoshim @skzenhalove @enhastolemyheart @helenngxz @markleeisdabestdrug @hanjisunginc @gyuw1fe

#enhypen heeseung #enhypen heeseung smut #heeseung smut #enhypen #enhypen lee heeseung smut #heeseung #lee heeseung #enha heeseung #engene #heeseung angst #lee heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung x y/n #heeseung fluff #lee heeseung angst #ethan lee #heeseung fic

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pupyuj · 7 months ago

Note

I saw someone ask how yunjin initiates sex to another writer and I was like 👀 let me ask Ena this with yuj and any other idol or artists she wants to talk about because by those pics you posted your taste in women is *chef's kiss *

- 🧇

using this ask as a lil warm-up hehe everybody say thank you to 🧇 anon for kickstarting my brain once again!!! AND UR SO RIGHT ANON ISN’T MALOI SO PRETTY HEHEHE—

see, unless yujin is desperate, upset, or anything of the sorts i’m a sucker for the idea of her being quite shy when initiating?? 😭 she’d stare at you with those big puppy eyes, hoping that you’ll understand what she wants right away but then you’d end up thinking that she was just being cute and just give her a cute little kiss on the nose before walking off to do something djfbfkskc and oh my god yujin hates it when she needs you and you’re distracted 😪 would come up behind you, pressed up against you, and she’d start kissing your shoulder… again, you’re thinking that she’s being cute so you’re just smiling dumbly while she’s doing her thing 😭😭 then she’s kissing up your neck… behind your ear… inhaling your scent and it wasn’t until her hands tug down at the waistband of your shorts that you finally understand what she has been asking for this entire time!! 🤭

you wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to tease the one who mostly does the teasing in the relationship… so you’d play dumb! looking at her all confused but with a cheeky smile that you couldn’t hide bcs yujin was just too cute pouting and whining at you 🥺💞💞 “c’mon, (y/n)…” ughdhhdcbjs so adorable ☺️💕 now you can’t exactly resist those big eyes for too long so you’d give yujin what she wants… slowly 😵‍💫😵‍💫

and i am a yujin-grabs-her-gf’s-ass-while-kissing truther so ya’ll are gonna have to deal w my thoughts about that! she’s already such a perv daily 😭 grabbing your ass while you’re kissing her really just gives her a burst of energy and ofc your soft moans while she squeezes adds to it too 😣‼️ once her hands have started roaming under your shirt, she completely has you wrapped around her finger bcs her hands??? magic. 😵‍💫

ehehe and i wanna say that yujin doesn’t rlly care where she fucks you when she’s the one initiating so in this instance… have fun getting bent over the kitchen island! 😍🥰🥰

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lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me · 6 months ago

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⋆୨♡୧⋆bitchless era ending soon⋆୨♡୧⋆

walking into the meeting room y/n couldn’t help but internally scream. what the hell was he doing here? why didn’t her manager tell her about this? especially since she was just in practice and didn’t have time to dress up and hopefully look not a hot mess. her mouth dropped open in shock, resisting the urge to yell “what the fuck” in front of everyone. after a moment of awkward silence her manager spoke up. “y/n meet riki, riki meet y/n. you guys will be working together from now on. we set up this time for you to meet and talk and get to know each other.” she gestured to riki’s manager, “we’ll be going so you two can talk freely. have fun!” the two left and left riki and y/n alone. while y/n was having her internal panic, little did she know, so was he. the moment he saw her he knew he was fucked. after heeseung gave him no help, he had no idea what to say to her. “soo…” he said “your debut was really good!”. y/n didn’t know what to do. her celebrity crush of 3 years, just complimented her music. all that she could muster was “uh- thanks you too”. thanks you too???? why the hell would she say that? he laughs slightly, not being able to help but think about how cute she was. “um are you excited to start mcing?” she asks, nervousness clear in her voice. he smiled, “yeah i am, what about you?” she tried her absolute hardest to not say something stupid again and said “yeah! just a little nervous though. i’ve never done anything like this before.” riki saw his opportunity, he knew he had to take it. even though he had absolutely no idea what he was doing. “we should hang out sometime. i’ve done it a couple times before, i could give you some tips to make it easier!” no. fucking. way. too many thoughts were running through y/ns head. did nishimura riki really just ask her to hang out? there’s no way this is real. never did she think that this would happen “uhhhh- yeah! yeah sure that would be fun!” whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck “okay nice! how about tomorrow?” whatshappeningwhatshappeningwhatshappening “yeah sure. that sounds perfect” holy. shit. cha y/n is hanging out with nishimura riki. “okay, ill see you then” riki had never been more nervous in his whole life. he couldn’t wait to shove this in all of his members faces. “im sure you have to get back to practice, right?” there was no shock as to why he knew that, she looked like a sweaty mess. “yeah, actually. i do. so i’ll see you then!” she overthought her every word, and move. how could she not when she’s around him. to her, he was perfect. “see you around!” riki left the room and practically ran back to his dorm. that couldn’t have gone better. y/n however, was freaking the ever living hell out. “did nishimura riki just ask me out? no that’s not possible we just met eachother! it’s friendly! that’s all!” after what felt like hours of contemplating she decided to go back to the dorm, tweet about it, and tell taesan and jaehyun. i mean, how was she supposed to go back to practice after something like this?

masterlist | next | previous

luckys note!: i’m sorry this took so long guys!! schools getting crazy since it’s almost the end of the year. but i hope you enjoyed the first written chapter! this is my first time like, actually writing so i hope it turned out good!

(📍) PERM TAGLIST IS OPEN!

(🩷) MIDNIGHT FICTION TAGLIST! @nctislifue @akuspic @pkjay @siya-bean @eun-chaez @wavetosunoo @gweoriz @luminouskalopsia @soobiary @ivyannemarie @rikikiynikilcykiki @emma2black @enh4ht @wooziswife @jjunie-0 @yumilovesloona @wth121 @riksaes @isaxshin @allforhee @rikisgeef @chxrlvspp @sunghoonsarmpit @autumn583 @tzuyusluv

(dm me/comment under the midnight fiction masterlist to be added!)

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httpvomitello · 22 days ago

Note

Can we get a bayverse tmnt boys scenarios for each one what if their S/O decides to scare them for fun one day by sneaking up on them but they end up hurting them really bad with their weapon out of reflex and the s/o has to go to the hospital and almost lost her life? I need something ansty😃

omg YES! I also need a little bit of angst right now. I hope you like it! ♡♡♡♡

In Too Deep *⁠.⁠✧

Leonardo

It was meant to be a harmless prank. Just a playful scare, something they thought would make Leo laugh. After all, for someone as serious as him, he could use a good surprise every now and then, right? They watched him in the training room, his focus unwavering as he practiced with his twin katanas.

The perfect opportunity.

They waited for the right moment, and when his back was turned, they leapt out from behind a pillar, shouting, “Gotcha!”

Leo’s reaction was instant, years of training kicked in. Before they could blink, he spun around, katana flashing through the air. The blade met flesh, and then, all they felt was pain. A sharp, burning pain as the katana sliced deep into their side.

Their scream echoed in the room, and Leo’s face went pale.

“No...” he gasped, his katana slipping from his hands and clattering to the floor. His heart raced as he rushed forward, catching them as they crumpled to the ground. Blood, so much blood, was already seeping between his fingers as he tried to apply pressure to the wound. "I... I didn’t mean... I thought you were someone else!"

Their breathing was shallow, their skin pale as they struggled to keep their eyes open. "Leo..." they whispered, their voice weak.

Leo flinched at the words, guilt gnawing at him. "I... I didn’t mean to…"

"Yeah, well you did," they provoked, though the effort drained them. Their anger was quickly overshadowed by the searing pain, but the frustration remained.

Leo’s heart felt like it was breaking in his chest. He was the leader, the one who was supposed to protect them. And now, he had hurt the person he cared about most. “Don’t talk, save your strength,” he urged, though his voice cracked. His hands were soaked in their blood, and it was spreading too fast.

Without a second thought, Leo carefully scooped them up, cradling them in his arms, and bolted toward the surface. Every second felt like an eternity as he sprinted through the sewers and into the night. His heart pounded as he reached the hospital, slipping through the back alleyways, making sure no one saw him.

Once he reached the back entrance, Leo gently laid them on the cold ground, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His hands trembled as he pulled out his phone, his fingers shaking as he dialed April’s number.

"April, I need you at the hospital. Now," his voice was strained, thick with guilt and desperation. He couldn’t stay. If anyone saw him, it could make things worse. "Please… they’re hurt. Bad."

Before she could even respond, he hung up, casting one last glance at their pale, unconscious form. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered before slipping away into the shadows, but staying close to the hospital room window once they received treatment.

Raphael

Raph had always been on edge. It didn’t take much to set him off, and they knew that. But still, they couldn’t resist trying to scare him, just once. He always teased them about being too slow to sneak up on him, so today, they decided to prove him wrong.

They crept up behind him while he was lifting weights in the training room, knowing he was in his own little world. When they were close enough, they grabbed his shoulders and shouted, “Surprise!”

In a heartbeat, Raph whirled around, sai in hand, swinging hard. His weapon struck with a sickening thud, embedding itself deep into their stomach.

Their body jerked from the impact, and their eyes widened as they crumpled forward, collapsing into Raph’s arms.

“Fuck!” Raph gasped, his sai falling to the ground as he caught them. Blood poured from the wound, staining his hands as he pressed desperately against their abdomen. "Shit, no! What the hell was you thinking?" His voice cracked, thick with panic and fear.

Their breaths were shallow, weak. They blinked up at him, eyes filled with pain and fury. "You idiot!" they wheezed, wincing at the sharp pain. "Who... swings a weapon that hard without looking?"

Raph’s face paled as the guilt hit him like a freight train. "I—I didn’t know it was you!" he stammered, the panic in his voice rising. "Fuck, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to..."

Their groan cut him off, and the anger drained from them, leaving behind only pain. Raph could see the fear and confusion in their eyes, and it made his chest tighten even more.

Without wasting another second, Raph lifted them into his arms, bolting through the lair and out into the night. His heart raced as he ran, their body limp in his arms.

By the time he reached the hospital, his chest was heaving with panic. He didn’t stop until he reached the emergency room back entrance, carefully laying them on the pavement. He couldn’t stay, not with people around, but he couldn’t leave them alone either.

He pulled out his phone, dialing April with shaking hands. "April, you gotta get to the hospital," he rasped, his voice barely recognizable. "Please... they’re hurt. Bad. Just get here." He hung up after she respond, his chest tight with fear. He bent down, placing a kiss on their forehead, and whispered, "I’m sorry... for everything."

Donatello

Donnie was always absorbed in his work. His mind ran a mile a minute, lost in blueprints and inventions. They knew it was hard to get his attention sometimes, but today, they were feeling playful. Sneaking up on him while he tinkered with his latest project in the lab seemed harmless. He’d never expect it.

They crept up behind him, heart racing with anticipation. Once they were close enough, they grabbed his shoulder, shouting, “Boo!”

Donnie spun around, staff already in hand. Before he could register who it was, his bo connected with their ribs, the impact sending them crashing into the shelves behind them. The crack of bone echoed through the lab, followed by a choked gasp of pain.

“What the...” Donnie dropped his bo, rushing to their side as they crumpled to the floor. They clutched their side, gasping for air, their skin paling by the second. Blood dripped from their mouth, and Donnie’s heart plummeted into his stomach.

"You didn’t have to hit so hard, you know," they tried to laugh, glaring up at him, their eyes filled with pain but also a flicker of annoyance.

Donnie’s face blanched, guilt hitting him like a tidal wave. "I-I didn’t mean to… I thought…" He stammered, his mind racing, trying to figure out how to fix it, but the sight of them bleeding, pale, and weak in front of him shattered his ability to think straight.

Their breaths were shallow, labored, and panic surged through him. He couldn't let them die. Not because of him.

Donnie gathered them in his arms, moving faster than he ever had before. His mind screamed with every step as he raced to the hospital. Once there, he slipped through the back, ensuring no one saw him. Gently, he laid them on the ground, his hands shaking.

He pulled out his phone and called April.

"April, please, you have to come. They’re hurt," his voice cracked. "I can’t… I hurt them." He didn’t wait for her response, too overwhelmed by the guilt clawing at his heart. He brushed a trembling hand over their cheek and whispered, "I’ll fix this. I promise."

But as he slipped back into the shadows, he knew some things couldn’t be fixed.

Michelangelo

Mikey loved a good prank. He was always the one pulling jokes on them, so this time, they decided to get him back. It was innocent enough, right? Just a scare. They saw him on the couch, totally engrossed in a video game, and figured it was the perfect time.

They crept up behind him, suppressing their laughter as they leaned over the back of the couch and shouted, “Surprise!”

Without thinking, Mikey swung his nunchaku back in defense, the metal striking hard against their temple. The force sent them crumpling to the floor, blood already trickling down their face.

“Oh no!” Mikey gasped, immediately dropping his nunchaku as he knelt beside them, his hands trembling. “No, no, no, no! What did I do?” Tears welled in his eyes as he cradled their head in his hands, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Of all the reactions, you chose to hit me?" they muttered, their voice weak. "It was a joke, Mikey."

Mikey felt like he had been punched in the gut. “I didn’t mean to! I swear!” He could see the frustration in their eyes, but it was quickly fading into pain, and his heart broke.

They groaned in pain, their eyes unfocused, struggling to stay conscious.

"Mikey…" they whispered his name.

Tears streamed down Mikey’s face as he scooped them up, his heart pounding in his chest. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” he whispered, panic rising with every step he took toward the lair’s exit. He ran through the streets, his focus solely on getting them help, their weak breaths the only sound he could hear.

When he reached the hospital, Mikey carefully laid them down near the entrance. He couldn’t go inside without risking exposure, but he couldn’t leave them alone either. He fumbled for his phone, trying to call April with shaking hands.

“April, please,” he begged as soon as she answered. “Get to the hospital. They’re hurt… and it’s my fault.”

Mikey hung up after she confirmed that she would soon arrive there, tears still streaming down his cheeks as he bent down, brushing a hand over their hair. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered before slipping into the shadows, but staying close when he saw April coming.

#reader #x reader #y/n #tmnt #tmnt x reader #bayverse tmnt x reader #they/them #bayverse mikey #bayverse leonardo #donnie bayverse #tmnt bayverse #bayverse raphael #april o'neil

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junipernight · 4 months ago

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Yangvik Week Day 1: Injured

@yangvikweek2024

Yangchen enveloped Kavik’s hands in water and took them in her own.

“Explain to me again where the mission went wrong?”

“It didn’t go wrong,” Kavik protested. “We got the information, and no one got caught!”

Yangchen pursed her lips. Kavik was pretty sure she’d be glaring at him if her eyes weren’t already fixed on the delicate work of healing burns. He sat very still, knee to knee with the Avatar, and let her work.

For a moment, all was quiet, except for the muted sounds of customers drinking tea and chatting on the other side of the wall. It was crowded in the backroom of the little teahouse that Akuudan and Tayagum had opened in Ba Sing Se, especially with all seven members of the team in it (nine if you counted Pik and Pak, who were perched on Boma’s shoulders.) It would almost be cozy, having the whole team back together, if his hands didn’t feel like literal fire.

Akuudan clapped one enormous hand on Kavik’s shoulder. “We made it into the records office without any problems. But then Feishan’s guards came making the rounds, and our lookout here saw they were opening doors as they passed, which we hadn’t expected them to do. So Kavik stuck his hands into a nearby torch, and then made up a story about a rogue firebender who’d attacked him.”

The guards hadn’t even questioned the unfamiliar servant boy’s presence; he’d been dressed in the right uniform, and there was a high turnover rate in Feishan’s palace. The horrific burns had also been very convincing.

Yangchen sighed. “Was that really necessary?”

“It was. You know what the consequences would have been if we were caught.”

“I meant, what happened to using the signal?”

Tayagum answered for him. “Our backup exit was blocked by a gaggle of court ladies shortly after we broke in. And anyway, we hadn’t had enough time yet to locate the correct documents. The whole mission would have been compromised if not for Kavik’s quick thinking.”

“I sent them on a wild pinegoose chase,” Kavik said. “I told them I was attacked by a fire bender who was 5 feet tall and one-eyed and had a shaved head. And then I said he ran towards the throne room and they booked it.”

“Do you ever come up with plans that don’t result in you injuring yourself on purpose?” Jujinta asked snidely.

Even though Kavik and Jujinta were on much better terms these days, his old Association partner couldn’t resist getting in a jab whenever the opportunity presented itself. At least these days his weapon of choice was sarcasm instead of blades. Mostly.

“Why?” Yingsu asked. “What has he done before this?”

“When we needed to extract information about Unanimity out of his lousy brother, I stabbed Kavik, and we pretended to torture him until we got Kalyaan to talk.”

“Wow,” Yingsu said, raising an eyebrow. “That’s dark. And here I thought you were the good guys.”

Kavik and Yangchen kept their faces carefully still. Neither said anything, each still feeling guilty about the ploy for different reasons, even if it had been necessary.

“It was his own idea,” Tayagum said, shrugging. “When we first met, I was smuggling him into Jonduri under an old crewmate's identity, but there was a last-minute change in the dock guard. We would’ve gotten caught, if this guy hadn’t purposefully ‘slipped’ and bashed his own nose in.”

“Is that why your face used to look like that?” Jujinta asked.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t know about that one,” Yangchen said. She stopped what she was doing so she could look Kavik in the eye.

“The night we first met…” she began.

Kavik rolled his eyes. “I genuinely had frostbite that night, and I most definitely wasn’t aiming to get beat up by your guards. I’m not a one trick platy-pony, you guys. I don’t hurt myself everytime I run an errand. Believe it or not, I usually make a clean exit.”

“Hmmm.” Yangchen made a troubled hum in the back of her throat, and went back to healing him.

“… What kind of waterbender gets frostbite?” asked Jujinta.

Kavik’s hands were occupied, but his mouth wasn’t, and he was so incredibly tempted to spit icicles at Juji. See how he liked being subjected to surprise daggers for once.

Luckily, Akkudan spoke first. “Leave him alone, Jujinta. Frostbite is no joke. Even a firebender can get burned, even an earthbender can be crushed, and even a waterbender can succumb to the cold.” Not for the first time, Kavik wondered if there was a story behind Akuudan’s missing arm, or if he had simply been born without it. Kavik had never asked, in case it was a sore subject.

While they had been talking, the swelling in Kavik’s hands had gone down significantly, though his skin still bubbled and blistered in ways he did not like to look at. Yangchen gently set one of his hands down in her lap, so she could focus on one hand at a time for this next, more intense stage of the healing process.

“It’s always your hands,” she muttered in absent-minded annoyance. “You have such nice hands, why are you always damaging them?”

Tayagum made a strangled noise. “Nice hands?”

The question was addressed to Yangchen, but Tayagum’s expression made it clear that it was a threat towards Kavik. Any warmth the older water tribe man had cultivated for Kavik seemed to have been immediately replaced with suspicion.

The Avatar looked up in confusion. Kavik saw the moment she realized the possible implications of what she’d just said.

Boma smiled good-humoredly, “Anything we should know about?”

“I’d actually rather not hear about this, thanks,” said Yingsu.

Kavik’s face burned. Everyone noticed him turn beet red, and he noticed everyone noticing.

Yangchen spluttered. “I meant that his hands are very skillful!" Nope, that wasn’t any better. “—at sleight of hand! And- cheating at sparrow bones, and climbing, and things like that!”

Getting beat up, and cheating at tile games. Truly, Kavik had great skills that made him worthy of serving the Avatar.

Boma and Akuudan were laughing at them.

“Can we just focus on the info we stole?” Kavik snapped.

Still chortling to himself, Boma took the papers out of their folder and spread them out on the table.

The rest of the team began to read. Yangchen switched hands.

***

“Ohhh,” Jujinta said suddenly, much later. “You were implying they had sex.”

The burst of laughter and teasing and general noise that followed this statement was enough to send Pik and Pak flying.

Yangchen supposed that hiding her face in Kavik’s tunic would not help her beat the allegations.

#It's still day 1 for 10 more minutes let's goooooo #yall i had such a hard time coming up with a believable way for Kavik to injure his hands on purpose #seriously you would not believe how many scenarios i came up with. none of them logical #YangvikWeek2024 #Yangchen #Kavik #Chronicles of the Avatar #Avatar Novels #fanfiction #writblr #atla #Akuudan #Tayagum #Boma #Jujinta

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timetoletmyimaginationfly · 8 months ago

Text

Officially Mine

Nanami Kento x Reader

Slight suggestiveness in the end. Implied Mafia + CEO Nanami. Implied violence on Nanami’s end.

I want to make a series out of this…

(Song Inspiration: Infinity by Jaymes Young)

He didn’t know why but he let the attraction take over him. An ordinary woman that you are, he finds extraordinary. A woman who appears so innocent and pure while he is a man with blood on his hands. A man that plays dirty in his business world.

It has been a year since meeting you. The two of you met on Gojo’s birthday. And because you were close to Shoko, Gojo encouraged Shoko to bring you. It was one of the best days of his life.

“Kento-kun!” you yelled to get Nanami’s attention. Nanami’s eyes turned to you. You giggled and brought a brown bag to his desk. “Your lunch like you asked. You’re lucky I didn’t have a photoshoot today.”

You watched a small and playful smile appear on his face. You always saw his stoic side. He tends to be a man of little words but the more you got to know him, his actions says a lot.

“You would’ve done it for me either way, love bug,” he said. “Thank you.” You blushed.

“Y-Yeah, I would’ve,” you admitted shyly. He watched you play with your fingers. An indication of your shy side appearing or your nerves were slowly taking over. But you were blushing, so he knew you were getting shy. “I’m going to Korea for about a week.”

“Korea?” he asked. You nodded happily.

“I never told you about him!” He glared at the mention of him. “We went to college together. He models and acts and he let me take his photos. Now he’s famous everywhere in Asia! He asked me personally to be his photographer! I can’t let that opportunity slide.” His eyes softened. You were excited and happy. That was all he cared about.

“No, you can’t,” he said softly. “I have some business to deal with over there soon. We can go together in my private jet. When do you leave?”

“Next week.”

“Perfect.” You could hear some possessiveness in his voice. His soft yet venomous tone was subtle. You bit your lower lip. Should you be scared? Yes. But were you? No. “I’ll pick you up, love bug.” You lightly giggled. Another sign of nerves and shyness.

“What business do you have entailed over there?”

“I have a client that I need to meet with personally.” He sounded sincere but it was almost sinister. Nonetheless, you smiled brightly.

“Perfect! Kill two birds with one stone, right?” Nanami nodded. “I’ll be heading out. I need to get my equipment together.”

“Get home safe, love bug,” he said. Pink. You were blushing again. You waved one last time before sending yourself out. Nanami took his phone out and called Gojo.

“Call Jung + Kim Security,” he said. “Tell Mr. Jung to expect me.”

“How bad did they fuck you over?”

“He touched my girl a week ago at the gala.”

“Oh Nanami. Head over heels for a girl that isn’t even officially yours,” Gojo said with a chuckle. “You should tell her how you feel.”

“We are aware of our feelings with each other.”

“Yeah but you two are still dancing around each other. What’s holding you back?” Nanami held on to his phone tighter. He stayed silent. He already knew. You were too good for him. “I know you, Nanamin. You deserve someone like her.”

You were surprised when Nanami decided to come with you to the photoshoot.

“It takes hours,” you said.

“That’s fine,” he would answer.

You looked out the window in the car and smiled. Nanami took a glance at you. He couldn’t help but smile with you. His hand moved over to yours that rested on your lap. You didn’t resist him, so he intertwined his fingers to yours. Your heart raced, fluttering feelings overtaking your body.

Nanami remained by the table that was filled with snacks and refreshments. He watched you fixed the model’s outfit. He watched the model talk to you and watched you laugh. Nanami can feel jealousy envelope all over his body. His glare becoming so intense that the model looked up briefly at Nanami with fear.

“Let’s take a quick break,” you said. You could feel Nanami’s glare from behind. “Be back in ten.” You turned around and walked over to Nanami. You stood in front of him with crossed arms and an angry pout.

“Yes, love bug?” he asked so softly and innocently that you blushed, almost forgetting why you walked over to him.

“Quit scaring him,” you said. “I can feel your stare. You’re getting annoyed. Kento-kun, do you enjoy my attention?” Nanami smirked and stood up. He towered over you and he closed the gap and leaned in closer to your face.

“Of course I do,” he answered. “I just don’t want him flirting with you.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” you asked. Nanami smiled, patiently waiting for you to continue. You leaned up closer to his ear. He thought you were too adorable. “I enjoy your attention, too.” You winked and turned around to get back on set, where your model friend was patiently waiting. Nanami watched, your “secret” replaying in his mind.

I enjoy your attention, too.

Sets were changing. Outfits were changing. You made sure everything was perfect. During breaks, you would stay with Nanami. He took a step out to buy lunch for the crew. And another time to buy coffee.

“Your boyfriend is a good man,” your friend said. You blushed, a little too stunned to say anything back. “We should do a double date one day. My manager said I have to go to a meeting tomorrow. We can do more of the shoot the day after.”

“O-Okay! Just call me,” you said.

Nanami placed his hand on the small of your back and lead you back to the car.

“You love photography,” he said.

“I do,” you replied. “Office jobs aren’t fun. I love my side gig.”

“You should make it a full-time thing.”

“I’m trying. That’s why this photoshoot needs to be perfect. The day after tomorrow will be with the cast on the drama he’s also in. It needs to be perfect.”

“I have full confidence that you’ll succeed, love bug.” Nanami looked at the time in the car. “Do you want to go back to the hotel or explore around Seoul? I have to meet with my client.”

“Drop me off here,” you said. “And then I’ll take a cab back to the hotel. That is, if you’re still gone. Maybe we can get dinner together. I-If you want.”

“I would love that, love bug. I’ll definitely be there.”

A few hours passed. You were worried when you saw him leave his car. His body was very tense. His frown was deep. And the way he kept fixing his tie was uncharacteristic of him. Almost as if he was nervous.

“Kento-kun,” you called. You watched his shoulders slightly relaxed the moment you spoke. You couldn’t help but smile and walked up to him. Nanami chuckled when he saw the bags in your hands.

“You went all out, huh?” he questioned softly when he took the bags from your hands.

“Just a little,” you answered. “I’ve been wanting to use their facial products and I want some make up. Some of their clothes were on sale so I might as well take up on that opportunity, right?” Nanami chuckled and placed the bags in the back seat of his car.

“Of course, love bug,” he said and held your hand. “I reserved a place for us.”

“So I have to wear something nice? I’m pretty casual right now.” The last time he reserved a restaurant for the two of you, you felt very out of place, even if it was just the two of you around. Nanami just smiled.

“I knew you were going to question that,” he said and pulled a bag of out the car. “Change into this. Under my seat is a new pair of heels.”

“Wait! You’re not coming in here while I change!” you exclaimed when you watched Nanami enter the driver seat. Nanami smirked.

“I won’t look,” he said. You pouted at him and all he could do was laugh. “I’m kidding, love. Let me know when you’re done.”

“Thank you.”

Something about you in a silky, sapphire colored gown that hugged the curves of your body just made Nanami’s mind spiral. He kept you close possessively as you two walked to your destination.

“You are a possessive man, Kento-kun,” you said. Nanami smiled at the comment.

“I don’t like anyone touching anything and anyone that’s mine,” he answered casually. You blushed and rested your head on his chest. He pulled you in close to him. “I want to tell you something important tonight.”

“O-Okay,” you said. “Is it bad?”

“It depends how you perceive it, love bug,” he said.

Your eyes widened when you two reached the rooftop. There was one table with two long candles lit up and a flower in between the candles. Nanami pulled your chair out for you to sit and you softly thanked him. Once Nanami sat down, two waiters arrived, pouring the both of you glasses of wine and bringing food on to the table.

“I made sure to serve your favorite,” Nanami said. “Tomorrow we’ll explore around Seoul and you can try more of their food since you have the day off.” You brightened. It was your first time in the country and you were excited to do some sight-seeing.

“So what was it you wanted to tell me?” you asked curiously as you took a sip of the wine.

“You’re impatient, my love,” he said. He loosened his tie ever so slightly and fixed the cuffs of his suit.

“You’re nervous,” you said. Your heart raced and your stomach fluttered when he gave you a shy smile. An uncharacteristic one from him. “Kento-kun, are you doubting our feelings for each other?” Another uncharacteristic reaction. His eyes widened.

“Maybe I am,” he answered quietly.

“What’s there to doubt?”

“That you’re perfect and I’m not,” he said, his eyes burning through you. His eyes were intense. You were mesmerized.

“You speak low of yourself. Very unlike you.”

“All because of you, love,” he replied. “You’re the only one that makes me like this.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Yes and no. Everyday I have you in my mind that it distracts me. And I hate distractions. But I love your distraction. You’re a woman so beautiful and sweet that I find it hard to believe that you like a man like me.”

“What’s so bad about you?”

“All the bad things I do.” All you can do is smile slyly as you took another sip of your wine.

“I like to pretend that I don’t know what you do behind closed doors,” you said. “You’re ruthless and an ass to others. Satoru has a big mouth. I tried not to get too involved with you earlier, but I can’t get away.”

“Gojo? Seriously?” You couldn’t help but giggle at his annoyed expression. You reached out and held his hand.

“Kento-kun, you’re the only one who I feel safe around even though I know that you’re a dangerous man,” you said. “And everyday, I think I end up falling more for you that I can’t ignore my feelings for you.”

“How could you love someone like me? I don’t deserve someone so perfect like you.”

“Because I grew up with no love and protection from anyone,” you answered. “And you’re the only one that gets me. You do anything to protect anyone you love. I watch you protect Satoru, Suguru, Yu, and Shoko. And I saw you give that man a killer stare at the gala after he touched me two weeks ago.”

“I hope you know he has no way to touch you ever again,” he said angrily. He was amused. You didn’t flinch or look at him differently. All you did was smile at him admirably and affectionately.

“I don’t wanna know,” you said softly. “But I can’t turn away. I think I’m too involved.”

“You are, love. I love you too fucking much.”

“I love you, too.”

“You can walk away if you want. It’s not too late.”

You stood up and walked over to him. Nanami turned to face you and you slowly sat on his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. His one arm enveloped you around your waist while his other hand rested on the back of your head. You straddled on his lap and cupped his face. His tongue versus yours. Reluctantly, you pulled away and rested your forehead on his.

“What does that say to you?” Nanami smiled and kissed you again.

“That we should skip dinner and go back to our hotel to have dessert.” You laughed. But you suddenly had a serious look on your face.

“I have one rule with our relationship,” you said. Nanami nodded, willing to agree to anything you need him to do. “I have male friends. Do not, and I mean do not do anything to them. That’s my dealbreaker.”

“They better not take you away from me.”

“Nanami Kento!” Nanami pressed his lips on yours. “Nanami Kento, you’re a possessive man.”

“Remember, no one takes anything and anyone that’s mine. And you’re officially mine.”

#nanami x reader #nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader #nanami jjk #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami fanfic #nanami #jujutsu kaisen au #jjk au

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earthtoharlow · 9 months ago

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Teach Me: Fashion Baby!

Requested by the lovely @heavyhitterheaux

Series Masterlist

“Alright, lights out babygirl.” Ariel said as she walked into Jayla’s room. Jayla stood in front of her full length mirror, a pile of clothes scattered around her feet as she tried out different outfits. Recently Jayla had become mesmerized by her Uncle Urban’s stylish outfits that her interest in fashion seemed to have taken on a whole new level.

“What’s going on here?” Ariel asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Jayla looked up from her task, smiling wide at her mom through the mirror. “Hi mom! I’m just trying to plan an outfit for tomorrow. What do you think of this one?” She twirled around showing off her outfit.

Ariel couldn’t help but smile as she watched her. “You look fantastic! I would pair that with a cool statement necklace!” Jayla's smile grew wider and nodded in agreement.

“Mom, did you know that New York Fashion Week is coming up in a few weeks?” Jayla asked as she dug through her jewelry box.

Ariel nodded, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Yes, I did. It’s such an exciting event, isn’t it?”

Jayla's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she nodded eagerly. “I’ve been reading about it and looking at pictures online, and it looks amazing! I wish I could go there one day.”

Ariel's heart swelled listening to Jayla talk about fashion.”That would be so cool, but who knows? Maybe one day you’ll have the opportunity to go and experience it for yourself!”

She watched as her daughter’s face lit up at the thought! “You really think so?!”

Voice filled with warmth, Ariel nodded. “Of course! I have no doubt that you’ll achieve anything you set your mind to.” Ariel helped Jayla put away all her clothes and bid her a goodnight. “Goodnight, my little fashionista!” placing a kiss on her forehead.

***

Ariel hummed as she shifted through the mail on the kitchen counter, her eyes landed on a formal invitation to New York Fashion Week addressed to Jack. The invitation immediately made her think back on her conversation with Jayla a couple nights ago. Ariel couldn’t help but notice that the envelope had been opened and tossed aside.

“Jack, did you see this?” She asked, holding it up so he could see.

Jack glanced over from where he sat on the couch as he concentrated on his puzzle, his eyes furrowing in confusion. “Oh, that? Yeah I saw it. I’m not really into all that fashion stuff.”

Ariel rolled her eyes knowing that the walk in closet full of clothes and shoes begged to differ. Jack had been out of the spotlight for years now, while he’s gotten better with being around crowds he still seemed to have no interest in the hoopla of being in the public eye again.

“Jack, I know it’s been a while since you’ve been to one of these events, but I think this would be a great opportunity for you.” Ariel said gently, sitting beside him now on the coach picking up a puzzle piece and placing it in the correct spot. “Plus, I’ve been watching Jayla these last few months and she’s gotten really into fashion. She would love it.”

Jack hesitated. He had spent years avoiding the limelight, preferring to focus on being the best father he could be and writing for other artists but he couldn’t deny the twinge of curiosity that sparked inside of him at attending Fashion Week as a family.

Ariel continued, her voice filled with encouragement. “Obviously, I’m not going to push you, but you should definitely think about it. It would be a fun family trip and it could be a chance for you to step back into the spotlight, even if it’s just for a little bit. You might even enjoy yourself.”

Jack sighed, his resistance slowly going away but knowing he still needed to sleep on it. “I’ll think about it.”

Pressing a kiss against his cheek, “That’s all I ask.” Ariel said as she hugged his arm, and laid her head on his shoulder.

From the top of the steps Jayla’s ears perked up at the mention of New York Fashion Week and with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she hurried back to her room, a plan forming in her mind.

The next night after dinner while Jack and Ariel were talking in the living room, Jayla walked in with a determined look on her face, laptop in hand.

“Mom, Dad, can I have your attention please!”

Jack and Ariel exchanged amused glances. Ariel leaned over to Jack and whispered, “Uh Oh. What did you do this time?”

Jack looked at her shocked, and pressed a hand against his chest “Why do you always assume it was me?”

“Because it normally is—“

Jayla cleared her throat, getting their attention again. “Right, sorry. Yes you have our attention, sweetheart.” Jack told her, sitting up straighter on the couch.

They watched as Jayla plugged in her laptop and pulled up a PowerPoint titled. “Reasons Why We Should Go to NYFW,” she began her presentation. “Reason number one: I promise not to ask for a puppy for at least a year if you take me!”

Jack couldn’t help but laugh at Jayla’s bargaining tactics. “Nice try, sweetheart. What’s reason number two?”

Jayla clicked to the next slide, which simply read, “Because I said so.” She grinned mischievously at her parents, earning a chuckle from Ariel.

“Bold move,” Ariel remarked with a smirk. “I like her style.”

As Jayla continued her presentation, Jack found himself thoroughly entertained by his daughter. After sleeping on the idea the night before about going to NYFW he had decided that it wouldn’t be that bad of an idea. He would much rather go with his girls than by himself. Plus, he couldn’t ignore the genuine passion and excitement in Jayla’s eyes, it reminded him of how he was when he was first getting into music.

Jack turned to Ariel with a playful grin. “Well, what do you say, honey? Shall we pack our bags for Fashion Week?”

Ariel chuckled and nodded, her heart warmed by Jack’s decision. “I think we have no choice but to surrender to the power of the PowerPoint!”

Jayla immediately ran towards them giving them a huge hug. Her reaction meant the world to Jack, and made him happy with his decision.

***

Jack watched as Jayla and Ariel shook with excitement as the stylist pulled out outfits for them to choose from to wear to their first fashion show that week, Jacquemus. He couldn’t believe that he was in New York for fashion week with his family, he couldn’t help but fidget nervously. The thought of attending a high profile event made him uneasy.

But as he glanced at his favorite girls' beaming smiles and sparkling eyes, he knew he couldn’t let his own fears hold him back.

“You look beautiful!” Jack said his voice filled with pride as he watched his daughter’s spin in happiness in the mirror.

Jayla grinned back at him, her excitement contagious. “Thanks, Daddy! I can’t believe we’re really here. This is going to be amazing!”

As they made their way to the venue, Jack couldn’t shake the nerves that gnawed at him. Ariel squeezed his hand tightly, a silent sign of support letting him know she was right there with him. But as they stepped inside and took their seats in the front row, he felt a sense of awe wash over him. The energy in the room was electric, the air filled with anticipation and excitement.

As the lights dimmed and the first models took to the runway, Jayla’s eyes widened with wonder. She gasped in awe at the breathtaking designs that floated past her, her heart pounding with excitement.

Beside her, Jack couldn’t help but be swept up in the excitement of the moment. As he watched his daughter’s face light up with joy as she told her mother which outfits were her favorite, he felt a sense of pride swell within him. This was what it was all about—the shared moments of happiness and wonder that made life worth living.

As the show came to an end and they made their way back to the hotel, Jack couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. His nerves had faded away, replaced by a sense of exhilaration and joy.

Jayla skipped with happiness in front of them as they walked down the long hotel hallway. Ariel couldn’t help but tease Jack gently. “Well, it looks like someone had a good time tonight.”

Jack grinned sheepishly, his earlier apprehension a distant memory. “I guess I did. And I have Jayla to thank for that. Her excitement was contagious.”

Ariel winked at him playfully. “I told you so, didn’t I?”

Jack unlocked the hotel door with a laugh, once in the room Jayla couldn’t contain her excitement.

“Oh my gosh, Mom, Daddy, that was amazing!” Jayla exclaimed, her eyes shining with excitement. “Did you see the models? They were gorgeous, and the clothes were so beautiful! I can’t believe we got to sit in the front row!”

Ariel and Jack couldn’t help but smile at Jayla’s excitement, her joy infectious. They listened attentively as she rambled about her favorite moments from the show, her excitement bubbling over with each passing sentence.

Jayla continued, her hands gesturing animatedly as she relived the experience. “And the vibe, it was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I felt like I was part of something special.”

Jack’s heart swelled with pride as he watched his daughter’s eyes light up with passion. He had been nervous about attending the fashion show, but seeing how much joy it had brought Jayla made it all worth it.

“I’m so glad you had fun, sweetheart,” Jack said, as Ariel stood behind Jayla to take the pins out her hair. “It was a pretty special experience, wasn’t it?”

“It was incredible! Thank you both so much for bringing me. I’ll never forget this.” Before Jayla could finish saying those words, Jack immediately pulled his wife and daughter into a tight embrace, grateful for the unforgettable experience they had shared together.

***

AN: thank you for reading, I loved writing this! as always let me know your thoughts!

Tag List

(message me if you'd like to be added or removed)

@heavyhitterheaux @hoodharlow @neon-lights-and-glitter @babiefries @toocriticalharlow @mace23477 @snows-blog-of-fiction @dstark-0706 @harlowsbby @itsyagirljaz @leftapricotprofessorlover @minkookie95 @harlowcomehome @jackharloww @jaydaaasworld @kkrenae @hufflewhore128 @w1ldthoughts @vinniehackersbaee @realwifeofjackharlow @halfmoondaze @katiaw2

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow reader #teach me #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow black reader

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unformula1 · 7 months ago

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lost in your eyes (OP81 x LS2)

oscar stares into logan’s eyes (but in a cute fluffy way) w/c: 653 day 25 of loscar posts until we get a loscar podium !!!!! (series masterlist) masterlist

Oscar would never admit that he liked staring into people’s eyes, specifically Logan’s. That was mostly because it was embarrassing and made him look weird, and the last thing he wanted was to lose a friend because of his weird obsession with eyes.

He sat close to Logan. Logan was doing some random media video so he was focused on whatever he had to do. This gave Oscar a rare opportunity to stare.

He stared into Logan’s eyes. His stare was intense. That wasn’t Oscar’s fault, who asked Logan to have blue eyes, or green if he stared harder. Oscar loved it, he loved the blue-green eyes.

Oscar took a little too long to realise Logan had seen him staring blankly. By the time Oscar realised, Logan was pretty much 3 steps away from Oscar.

Oscar sat up straight, focusing up and clearing his throat as Logan approached him.

“Hi Osc.” Logan greets and Oscar waves.

“Hello.” Oscar says, “How’s your media going?”

“Alright, just finished up.” Logan smiles.

Oscar resists the urge to stare into Logan’s eyes, which look more blue when they’re in the sun. He doesn’t know why Logan wears caps so much, it casts a black shade onto his face and his eyes can’t be seen.

“Cool…” Oscar replies.

“I saw you staring.” Logan chuckles.

“Me? Staring? NAH. NO WAY.” Oscar laughs awkwardly. He knows he’s messed up but he’s not going to risk it.

“Sure?” Logan raises his eyebrow.

“Yea- YEA I was… uhm staring at your little game. That’s right, the silly little game.” Oscar lets out awkward huffs of laughter.

“Right… It was pretty stupid, huh?” Logan adjusts his shirt and looks up.

Oscar can feel his legs grow weak as the sun rays shoot directly into Logan’s eyes and make his eyes glow some gorgeous looking blue colour.

Almost instantly, Logan covers his face with his hand to block the sunlight.

Logan groans, “This sun is going to get the better of me, I swear.”

“Really? I mean yea.” Oscar clears his throat to buy more time for himself, “It’s hot… huh? But I mean the sun’s got its bright sides too…”

“Was that supposed to be a joke?” Logan says as he shifts himself to be standing next to Oscar so the sun doesn’t blast directly into his eyes.

“Yes- wait, no. Was it? I don’t know.” Oscar sputters out in chunks of clearly unthought-through words.

“You’re talking funny Osc.” Logan chuckles.

Oscar turns his head slightly and looks at Logan again, but this time from a like a 3/4 profile. It was more beautiful than ever. Oscar couldn’t stop staring, his eyes were quite literally shining.

Oscar feels like he’s on some ecstasy high.

“Osc. You’re staring… again.” Logan says.

Oscar doesn’t fully process Logan’s words and just nods, “Mhm…”

“That’s all you gotta say?” Logan chuckles slightly.

“Your eyes are pretty.” Oscar blurts out before slapping his mouth.

Shit. What did he just say?

Oscar panics, he isn’t supposed to tell anyone about this.

Logan raises an eyebrow.

“No- Not like in a weird way. It’s just- uhm… I don’t know, they’re glowing right? You get me!” Oscar rambles.

“No… not really.” Logan shakes his head, “But I get why you wanna stare.”

Logan shrugs, flashing a smirk toward Oscar.

Of course Logan had to make a sassy remark.

Oscar awkwardly laughs.

Logan turns his head to face Oscar. Their eyes meet.

For the first time, Oscar’s staring into Logan’s eyes without it being from afar with stolen glances or discreetly staring.

Logan smirks.

Oscar’s in heaven. He’s in paradise.

“Your eyes are gorgeous, you know?” Oscar says.

“I know. Yours are too.” Logan replies.

Oscar’s flattered, he looks down but doesn’t take long before he’s looking back into Logan’s eyes.

They stay like that for a while and honestly, Oscar doesn’t care.

Logan’s eyes are beautiful. They’re breath-taking, they’re stunning.

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judysxnd · 1 year ago

Note

hello could u do one where you dress you and Pedro's baby up as baby yoda

Baby yoda?????? Grogu!!! Despite this little mistake I will write your request 😂

I apologize first for being away for a few weeks, but it’s been really difficult for me. I’m moving back to my parents and I don’t really like the whole situation. So it’s really tough on me, I am not really feeling good mentally. So, I don’t really do anything, I don’t play, I don’t write, I don’t read.. I’m trying, but it’s not easy.

This is relatively short, but I think it turned out to be good. I’m coming back gradually. Also, I only dressed up the baby here and not the reader like you wanted, because I thought the reader would have had to dress more like the mandolarian and not as Grogu, so that’s why. Also, first, I thought you were talking about matching pyjamas or something, so yeah here both of them would have be okay, but I wasn’t really sure so I did that. I hope you still like it!

————————————————————————————

Last week you went shopping for new baby clothes. Your little one is growing extremely fast and it’s not easy to follow. He is almost one year old, but already fits in 14months. So, it was only natural to go buy some new stuff.

You went after work, as baby boy was with the babysitter, Pedro was on set filming, so you knew you had plenty of times. You bought shirts, pants, some socks, a new pair of shoes, and some bodysuits. You were in the last shop of the mall when your eyes met Halloween costumes. You had to check it out, you’ve always wanted to dress your baby up so it was the perfect opportunity. After looking around, you saw a little costume of Grogu. You couldn’t help but laugh. Pedro will love it. Not thinking twice, you took it.

Once you were home, the babysitter left, you could finally enjoy being with your child. Smiling and laughing to your weird and silly faces, your heart was melting. It was almost 6pm when Pedro texted you that he was leaving set, which meant that in around thirty minutes he would be here.

You decided to open the costume of Grogu and change your baby. It would be such a cute surprise for Pedro. Luckily, the costume wasn’t very complicated to put on. A big brown jacket and a headband with Grogu’s ears on the side. You had a big grey basin, so you put him inside, struggling to make him stay in, but to do just like in the tv show.

Right when the door opened, you quickly put the basin on the floor not far from it, and hid behind the counter. Pedro didn’t have time to see you, and his eyes fell immediately on his beautiful baby boy.

“oh my god what happened to you?” He started to laugh. You were secretly filming the whole scene. He kneeled in front of him. Both of them were smiling. “I can see that mommy got you a nice outfit” he started to tickle him a little to make him laugh. “My little grogu, tu eres lindo” he carried him out of the basin, hugging him tight once he was in his arms. “Now, where did mommy go?” And your now little grogu pointed to the counter where we could see you a little. You laughed and got up.

“Isn’t he cute?” You had big smile, as you approached them.

“Where did you find this?”

“At the mall, I went shopping for new clothes for this big boy” you said tickling him which made him laugh. “And I found this, I couldn’t resist”

“I can see why” you both looked at each other

“Our beautiful baby boy” you were both staring at him. Instinctively you got closer to Pedro, putting your right arm around his waist, hugging him from the side, as you held your baby boy’s hand. Pedro kissed the top of your head, which made you look at him. You both smiled before kissing passionately. The sight of you kissing made your baby Grogu laugh, which made you both laugh also.

“I need to send a picture to Bella” you laughed. You let him go to grab his phone. He took some pictures of the three of you, then just some of the baby alone, and sent them to Bella.

#pedro pascal #fanfic #imagine #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #oneshot #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal preferences #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fic

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unhinged-summer-fun · 3 months ago

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common grounds (oshamir) - chapter 2

Pairing: Osha Aniseya x Qimir "The Stranger"

A/N: Dividers by @firefly-graphics

series masterlist

chapter 2: the anti-boyfriend

“You what?”

“Keep your voice down!” Osha hissed at her sister. She didn’t like to come into the cafe on her days off, but she’d slept through the opportunity to talk to Mae this morning before she left. And this was a conversation that couldn’t wait. “Listen, who is he? He said he knew you!” Mae’s face couldn’t hide her thoughts, not from the one person who shared it. Osha knew she was about to lie, so she grabbed her wrist. “Don’t even try to wiggle out of this.”

“What happened to your wrist?!” she gasped, shifting the subject to her sister’s annoyance.

“It—blame Huyang.” Osha pointed to the espresso machine in question. “Tell Yord to ease up on pulling shots; it’s not as sturdy as he thinks.”

“Yeah, I saw your note this morning.” Mae sighed. “But… he came in while you were working on it?”

Osha nodded but didn’t offer any other information—not about his little rescue, or how he held her arm so tenderly while he patched her up. “I guess I need to be better about locking the front.”

“Did the cameras catch him coming in?”

It was a complete left turn of a question, putting Osha on high alert. “What? I mean, probably. He wasn’t going to hurt me.”

Mae didn’t look like she believed that. “Don’t let him in next time.”

“Give me an actual reason, and maybe I will.”

“Can’t you just trust me?” Her voice came out stressed, not scared but also not at ease. Osha sighed, not wanting to concede.

“I do trust you, you know that. But the whole situation was strange, and I’d feel better if you just told me what you know.”

“Okay. I will. But not right now.” Mae’s voice dropped a little. “Not here.”

“I can’t tell if you’ve just been hiding a boyfriend or if I should be actually concerned.”

Mae laughed, but it sounded hollow and unconvincing. “He is not a boyfriend. He’s possibly the anti-boyfriend.”

Mae had none of the flustered attitude Osha remembered suffering from last night. It made her doubt herself for a moment. Was her spark of attraction to the stranger so outlandish? Best not to mention it.

“Okay, then. I’m off today and I know you’re closing, so you had better have a good story for me by dinner.” Osha adjusted the strap of her gym bag, pushing off the counter and toward the gym proper.

“No promises!” Mae called after her.

Temple Gym seemed rather empty, which wasn’t unusual for this time of day. Perhaps the recent conversation with the mysterious stranger drew Osha’s attention, but the low volume of people in classes and the rings seemed more noticeable today. It wasn’t like the gym was at risk of going out of business or anything, but each day, it looked like more teachers than students were in the training rooms.

“Keep your elbows in! Hands up!” The repeated thwack-thwack of gloves smacking training pads was as familiar to Osha’s ears as her sister’s voice. She recognized the trainer holding up the mats, Indara, and kept her head down as she strode past the ring. “Cutting it close, Osha!”

Damn it.

“Overslept, sorry!” She didn’t jog, as that would imply she wanted to run away from something, but she lengthened her strides a bit more to eat up the distance between this conversation and Training Room A.

Several students were there already, mid-warmup stretch. “Look who showed up,” Fillik teased from the floor. Osha resisted the urge to drop her bag on top of his head and got to work, taping her left ankle up as fast as possible.

“Do not let haste spoil your efforts,” a kind, but authoritative voice chided. Osha smiled sheepishly up at Sol and undid the last few passes of her wrap job. “Oftentimes,” he continued, “patience is the difference between injury and otherwise.”

“Yes, coach,” the room intoned. Osha’s face burned. Was she just unable to escape even a moment of chastisement today?

“Today, we will work on keeping your balance. Round one will be fifteen minutes of the following…” Osha fell into the usual routine of class, appreciating the burning in her lungs and thighs but forcing herself not to feel the pain in her ankle through some of the jump exercises. The injury was nearly six years old, but every time the weather was remotely bad, like clockwork, the usual ache would set in and twinge her gait a little.

I really need to get my car out of the shop.

“Mae—I mean Osha! Focus!”

A flash of irritation hit her like a gust of hot air. Sol was her dad and he couldn’t even tell them apart with any consistency.

How’d you know I wasn’t Mae when you walked in?

I just knew.

This random stranger, who knew Mae enough to recognize that Osha was not her, could tell them apart better than their dad.

She fueled that energy into her hips as she beat the heavy bag with laser-like focus. The impacts reverberated through her wrists, stinging the small burn with every hit. She lost herself in the trance of training, and it wasn’t exactly peace she found, but something more like clarity.

That was the difference between her and Mae; Osha could never find the serenity that came from repetition and effort. Whenever she got deep enough in training, she achieved something like a runner’s high that stayed with her most of the rest of the day. She felt as though she never had to cool down from it, or even stop. She’d never been pushed to the limits of her stamina, full of too much energy and determination to quit. It made her restless. The odd jobs Vernestra had her doing around the building were just enough to keep her from going out of her mind.

But she knew she had an example to set as the daughter of one of the best trainers in the gym. It’s why Indara still called her on her lateness even after six years out of competition, and why Sol was still so quick to offer critique in her footwork. Sol had a reputation to uphold, and Osha wouldn’t be the one to besmirch it.

“Are you alright?” Sol asked as she held a deep hamstring stretch in the cooldown. “Your wrist.”

“Oh, yeah. Old Huyang was giving me trouble last night. It’s nothing.”

“I’m sure it didn’t feel very nice striking the bag as hard as you did. May I see it?”

“Sol, c’mon, I’m fine.”

“Humor me.”

She undid the tape, revealing the angry line of shiny, pink skin across her wrist. “It won’t scar,” she assured Sol. He’d fretted so much after surgery on her Achilles, more concerned with the state of the scar than she was. Osha had let him, because it was something to pass her days in traction.

“Letting a burn breathe is important to prevent infection.” There was hardly a conversation with Sol where he didn’t attempt to impart some knowledge or wisdom.

“I’ll get it washed up before I go to lunch.”

On her way out of the gym, Mae stopped her.

“I can tell you more tonight, but really, steer clear of that guy if you see him again. He’s got anger issues a mile wide, and he’s… he’s a real butthead, Oshie. I don’t think he even knows how to make friends if his life depended on it. So… staying away from him is probably for the best. Please.”

“Well, it’s not like I was setting out to find him in the first place, so I think you can rest assured I won’t see him again. Besides, anybody my sister thinks is a real butthead doesn’t deserve my manners anyway.”

That assertion (and the espresso machine) lasted all of ten hours.

The text felt like a direct attack. Every time Yord did something wrong at the bar that needed Osha’s intervention, Jecki would send the same photo: Yord on his first day working at the shop, one hand in a thumbs-up and the other on a portafilter attached to an espresso machine on fire.

O: You’re joking

O: Please tell me you’re joking

J: I wish I were.

O: It’s been LESS THAN A DAY

J: To be fair, he wasn’t on shift for ten whole hours.

O: Nothing about this seems fair

O: I’ll be there at close

J: I owe you BIG! :)

Which led to here.

“YORD FANDAR!” Osha screamed at the espresso machine. It echoed through the empty cafe and the gym beyond. Not even the trainers stuck around after closing when the central heating was turned off for the night.

Giving in to temptation, Osha smacked her head against the espresso machine a few times. She’d been here a while. The fucking left group head had fused to the portafilter basket. Yord had been so violent with attaching the portafilter that the basket was now lodged in there, rendering half the damn machine inoperable since 4 p.m. when he decided to inform his shift manager of his fuckup. The clock on the register glared 21:33 in little red digits.

“These parts don’t—ngh!—actually—fucking—touch!” Osha squealed when she flew to the side, landing on her ass with the filter basket in her hands. The backflushed water from the machine gushed from the group head, left over from earlier that afternoon. She threw her hands in the air, laughing in victory. “Yeah!”

“That’s quite the technique you’ve got there.”

“Shit!” Osha flinched back, slapping her hand against one of the fridges below the counter. “You—?!”

Sure enough, the stranger stood on the other side of the counter. Looking up at him from the floor, he looked even more imposing than he’d been in her memory—that lasting image of the stranger silhouetted in the snow had grown into a certain kind of dark fantasy that she’d been unable to shake.

“Surprise?” he said, lips wrapping into a cocky sort of smirk that incensed her as much as it thrilled her. “Saw the lights were on again!”

She got to her feet, a determined scowl on her face. “Okay, I know for sure that I locked the door tonight, so how did you get in here?”

His hands went up. “Okay, I’ll admit, I heard you scream, saw you fall, and I freaked out a little. The lock isn’t broken, if that’s your concern. Are you alright, Osha?”

Shit, she must have hit her head or something, because her name never sounded better than when he said it.

Wait, no no no. Don’t be polite, remember he’s a butthead.

“I’m fine. Do you want a coffee?”

NO!! That’s worse!

The stranger looked confused for half a moment but shrugged. “If you’re offering. I’ll even pay this time.”

Okay, this she could work with. “Yeah, okay. I just gotta—ugh, Yord.” She looked down and realized the puck of espresso had broken into a million gross wet pieces… all over her. “I will be right back, I need to change.”

“I’ll be here!”

Her bag was right near the door, and the locker room was clear across the gym… It couldn’t hurt. Osha stepped around a dividing wall between the gym and the cafe, stripping off her gross coffee-shirt the moment she could.

She heard rustling around the corner and poked her head back, new shirt clutched to her chest. “What are you doing?”

The stranger was in the cleaning supplies closet. “Paying ahead. I’ll clean up the mess.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“Please.” His smile was so genuine and patient. “I don’t want you to stay late on my account. It’s a Friday.”

“I’m not missing much,” she said. Mae had sent a text saying she was going to dinner with some school friends across the bay, so her interrogation would have to wait another day.

Osha ducked back behind the wall to keep changing. But when she pressed her shoulders to the cold brick, she found she didn’t want to end this moment too quickly. “Have you worked in a cafe before?”

“Not exactly. I had a lot of part-time jobs in school. Food service was never something I committed to for long, though. Couldn’t stand coming home sticky. I prefer teaching and training.”

“So you’re a teacher?” Maybe Mae met him at one of her night classes…

“Oh, I’d like to be.”

“What do you want to teach?”

“I mean, teach what you know, right? For me that’s mostly fighting, but also sports science. Injury prevention and treatment.”

Osha’s heart plummeted. Once, she toyed with the idea of studying the same—in the blur of devastated angry months following her injury. To learn the why and the what if of her daily pain out of spite. But then her grief had spiraled into numb days of sorrow and half-assed physical therapy until she could force herself back into class workouts.

“That’s a great field for a fighter to be in.”

“I’m glad you agree, Osha.”

No words passed for a while, both of them just still and listening to one another with a wall between them. “Do you still fight?”

He laughs. “Sometimes.”

“Boxing?”

“Absolutely not.” The chill in his voice rivaled the chill in the gym. Osha shrugged on her other shirt and zipped up her jacket for good measure.

The stranger was just putting away the wet broom when she returned, rolling down the mats again after. How the hell had he mopped so fast?

“Oh, wow.” She blinked at the floor in surprise.

“Efficiency is an underutilized talent. Some people only see you rush, not caring that you did it all correctly.” His black hoodie still covered a lot of his body language, but the hunched curl of his shoulders must have been for her benefit. Most women didn’t want men looking over them, even if it was just good posture.

“So how do you fight, if you’re not boxing?”

“However I want,” he shrugged. “Capoeira. Jiu-jitsu. Kendo. Arnis. I’d rather be a jack of all trades than master of one. Traditional boxing is bogged down in a thousand little rules and pieces of etiquette that take the teeth out of what real fighting is. It’s just domesticated violence that forgot its history was built by lions.”

Osha back-flushed the machine a few times while he spoke, idly checking the dirty water. Then, she loaded a double into a new basket while she processed what he said. He didn’t seem bothered by her quiet demeanor. Sometimes silence was as important as its inverse in a conversation.

“And what would you say real fighting is, then?”

He waited until she looked him in the eye to say, “Bloodsong.”

“What?”

“We are animals, with animal instincts that have been honed over thousands of years to make fire, build cities, have families. But there come times for each of us where primal instinct drives us—when your life is threatened; when what you want is at risk of being lost. Then, all the blood in your body comes singing through your ears in a mix of adrenaline and panic, and you know one truth: only the strongest survive—that is the bloodsong.

“To dull that edge with rules, to quiet that song with tradition, is to glaze over the jagged history of how we got here—to cities and families and fire. But respecting the razor’s edge of instinct, and teaching yourself to hear the song, those things are what set lions apart from house-cats.”

Osha couldn’t look away from the fire in his eyes, the seriousness in his tone. Tonight, he’d only put on the guise of the bumbling fool for a minute before dropping it in favor of… this. Was this his real self? His philosophies were the very opposite of what Osha had been taught.

“You don’t think it’s a privilege to be able to practice fighting as a sport?” she said, deflecting and putting together a cortado on impulse. The steamed milk would provide a literal smokescreen between them that she could hide behind.

“It’s more theatre than fighting.”

“It’s called a martial art for a reason.”

“A good point,” he allowed, nodding his head. The intensity of his look had softened a little, but the fire in his eyes blazed true. “But those are all just pretty words to soften a blow. I prefer not to pull my punches in any sense.”

SHHHHHHH—

Osha breathed out shakily as she worked through the sudden din of machinery. The stranger accepted his drink without picking up the thread of conversation, leaving her to ponder it. This is what I am, his silence declared. You should not try to change me.

“My sister all but called you an asshole when I asked who you were,” Osha said at long last, once the silence had soured.

He rotated his drink in his hand, considering it and smirking wider. “No she didn’t.”

“She did.”

“Your sister doesn’t swear.”

“Okay, she called you a ‘real butthead.’ That’s basically the same thing.”

He chuckled and took a sip. “Mm. Cortado?”

“Figured you wanted another two-shot deal, Mr. Power of Two.”

“It’s a good choice,” he says, inclining his head to her in thanks.

Osha quickly scrubbed down and reset the machine for the night before shutting it down. Before she rounded the bar, he handed her a ten. “I told you I’d pay.”

Rather than hemming and hawing her way around it, she took the bill and dropped it in the tip jar. He rolled his eyes a bit, but didn’t drop the smile.

“Where do you train?” Osha asked once they approached the door. It’s a familiar pose for them: standing in front of the shop door with nothing but streetlights on their faces.

“Wherever I want.”

“So shifty! What are you, like a vigilante gym rat?”

“I think your trainers would call me a brawler. They like to think there’s no place for NHB fighters.”

“NHB?”

“No Holds Barred.” The term sent a frisson through her skin, that razor sharp thrill of danger he’d been talking about. Just the name was enough to excite.

“Then how did you learn?”

“I had to, in order to survive.”

A few minutes later, he held the door for her and stood a few steps back as she locked up.

“Mae also told me to stay away from you. I wonder why.”

“Mae has her own reasons to dislike me. You should find some on your own.” It sounded like an invitation. She didn’t respond to it, just walking down the street in the direction of her apartment complex.

They crunched through the snow on the quiet street in silence. Several bars they passed had music thumping within, soft yellow glows bleeding out onto the sidewalks. “You’re not following me home, are you?” Osha asked, very aware of the bear spray in her bag.

“I live this way too. Why, are you following me home?” The goofy smile had returned, and Osha saw it for what it was: a mask.

She shook her head and leaned on a pole as they waited for a crossing signal. She gently tried to stretch the pain out of her Achilles, but the cold limited her range of motion.

“Your ankle alright?”

“It’s just tight this time of year.”

“How are you resting it?”

“The usual way,” she sighed.

“How often do you do isometric exercises instead of just working on it in class?” She was startled by the question a little. It must have shown on her face, because he followed it up with, “I’m a sports scientist. If it helps, you can think of it as professional curiosity.”

That’s right. “Oh, um. Well I stopped PT after a year off crutches, and I was told class training, normal training is what’s best for me…”

“I mean no offense, but isn’t boxing how you got your injury in the first place?”

“Yeah, but—”

“That might be as effective as putting steel around a wooden pencil with broken lead inside.” The light turned green.

“Then what do you recommend?” She was expecting him to say something like come train with me, come to my house, let me do it right for you, but she was proved wrong.

“Isometric exercises, building out full range of motion. I’m sure you still have your old PT records, follow those exercises about thirty minutes a day. Don’t worry about muscle tone or whatever. Take a few days off from classes and understand where your pain is. Numbing yourself to it only hides it when you’re trying to get rid of it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. But that’s just my advice. Follow it, don’t. You’re not a client, I won’t be disappointed if you ignore it, Osha. I’m going this way, so…” he put a thumb over his shoulder. It gave her a choice: follow him and continue the conversation, whatever path it might lead down, or head home to where she’s safe.

As thrilling as the night would have been to go with him, she didn’t even know his name. And perhaps there was something wrong with her, because she didn’t ask for it. It preserved the mystery, the clandestine kind of air about them. She wanted more of it, to be sure, but breaking the ice too early would be unsatisfying.

“I’ll see you around.”

He looked delighted by her answer. “You can count on it.”

CHAPTER 3

#unhingery #oshamir #oshamir fanfiction #osha x qimir #the acolyte #the acolyte fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #common grounds

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skittishandi · 25 days ago

Text

WHUMPTOBER DAY 12:

STARVATION

tags: @gala1981@hollowgast1(let me know if you'd like to be added or removed)

“Get the f-“ Elliot squirmed away, but Peter was stronger. Peter’s fingers dug painfully into his chin.

“Stay still.” He ordered.

“Fuck off.” Elliot spat directly into Peter's face, knowing there would be consequences. To be honest, he didn’t care —not one bit. He would spit on that idiot’s face all day if he could.

“Oh, that was not nice, Elliot.” Peter said, wiping his face.

“Don’t talk to me about nice, you freak.” Elliot spat again, trying to crawl away from Peter, who had him trapped, Peter’s first grabbed his shirt tightly. Elliot’s hand clawed at Peter’s wrist, trying to break free. “Let me go.”

“Sierra.” Peter barked at her direction, without looking back. She approached quickly, handing him a taser.

“Can’t handle some words, Peter? Can’t handle me not being all polite and proper?” Elliot’s voice was taunting, challenging Peter. He yanked at Peter’s wrist again, but it didn’t budge. “You going to shock me to shut me up?”

“I’ve been so good to you, Elliot.” Peter said, pinning Elliot down, pressing his knee into Elliot’s chest. “So forgiving.” Peter said, jamming the taser down intoElliot’s ribs and flicked it on.

Elliot’s whole body seized up, the electricity tearing through him. Elliot groaned as his muscles locked. His body instinctively tried to get away from the pain.

Peter switched the device off and handed it back to Sierra. Elliot’s body went limp for a second after the shock, too stunned to register what was happening. Peter didn’t waste the opportunity and finally took out the syringe and jabbed it into Elliot’s neck, pushing the plunger as he held Elliot down.

“That should help you calm down, Elliot. Calm your funny temper.” Peter cooed condescending, tapping Elliot’s cheek in a mocking way.

“You drugged me? That’s low.” Elliot muttered, spent due to the exchange, maybe already being under the effects of whatever he was injected with.

“Low was your behavior. Wild. Inappropriate.” Peter sat in front of him, a little sweaty himself. “Come on.” He said as he helped Elliot up to his feet.

Elliot frowned as he realized he had little control over his body. He could walk, he could— do somethings but— everything seemed off.

“I don't like this, Peter. I hate it.” He mumbled, why did he feel he so— so strange?

Peter let him lie down on his bed. “It’ll get worse.” Peter announced with a light tone. He patted Elliot’s sides as he stood up from the bed. He walked to the drawer and pulled out a pair of handcuffs and a blindfold.

“I knew you were a kinky freak.” Elliot said as he saw what Peter was holding. “Leave me out of this, you disgu-“

Elliot was interrupted by Peter’s hand on his neck, cutting his air supply almost immediately.

“You talk so much, little Elliot.” Peter said as he tightened his grip.

“I’m-n- not little.” Elliot wheezed as disgust crawled inside him. He hated Peter. “Fucking sick b-as-bastard.” He managed to say, trying to lift his head, to have some leeway and trying to get some air.

“That mouth of yours again.” Peter smile as he heard Elliot’s choked sounds. “You think I’m a sick bastard, huh Elliot? Do you think I’m sick in the head?”

Elliot coughed, his legs trashed. His vision began to tunnel.

“Peter—“ Sierra said, hesitant.

Peter snapped his head on her direction. “Don’t start.“

Sierra bit her lip and dropped her gaze. Peter sighed as he let go of his throat and sat back on Elliot’s hips. Peter watched how Elliot’s hand went immediately to his sore neck, coughing and trying to catch his breath.

“Drop it, it wasn’t that bad.” Peter said dismissively, patting his sides as if nothing had happened.

Elliot couldn’t hold back the look of disbelief on his face. “Wasn’t — that bad?”

“No. Not at all. You spit in my face.” Peter reminded him. He reached back to his pocket and took out a pair of handcuffs. “Give me your hands.” He spat the order.

“The hell I will.” Elliot tried to resist, but Peter’s hands moved faster, an unfair race against Elliot’s sluggish movements.

The handcuffs clicked shut, locking his right wrist on the bed post. Elliot’s eyes followed Peter as his wrist instinctively pulled on the chain. “I get it,” Peter said, “we’re all on edge.” He hunched down with a groan and picked up a bucket from the closet. “So… I’ll give us all a few days to chill out.” He placed the bucket on the floor with a loud thud. Peter looked at Sierra and Elliot, his palms open and on his face an expectant look.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Elliot asked but cut himself off when Peter raised a finger.

“One more day for that.” He calmly said.

Elliot gave him a puzzled look. He was either not following the conversation due to the drug, or Peter simply wasn’t making any sense. He didn’t have that much time to ponder on it before Peter gave a sharp head signal towards the door and him and Sierra left the room.

Alone, Elliot shifted on the bed, scooting himself back up until he was sitting. He inspected the cuff almost cutting into his wrist, Peter had closed it way too tight, again. He tested the chain out of habit, he already knew Peter wouldn't buy cheap shit.

Elliot’s hand went to his sore neck, rubbing it in slow soothing motions. What a bastard, he almost chocked me out.

Elliot stared at the door, wondering when Peter would be back, and what he would do next. As much as he hated to admit, he was feeling anxious, scared even. He’d never spit on Peter’s face, Elliot didn’t need to be a genius to know that’d piss everyone off —crazy or not. Elliot knew he was difficult but he couldn’t help to be slightly proud of it. If Peter wanted a perfect little prisoner for his sick fantasy, he’d have to look elsewhere.

Rage filled him when he realized he was trying to make sense of Peter’s psychotic behavior. Peter was insane, and Elliot needed to get out.

—- —- —- —-

Elliot woke up when he tried to roll over, only to have his arm yanked back by the chain. He groaned, rubbing the sleep off his eyes. The room was dark. Dread settled in his stomach as eyes snapped toward the other side of the bed. No sight of Peter. He exhaled.

His eyes landed on the nightstand. A clock. He reached for it. 10:28 PM. He’d slept all day. He frowned as he felt the need to go to the bathroom. A feeling of uneasiness crept deep inside him. He’d never been left unattended for that long. His eyes found on the bucket Peter had left next to the bed when realization hit him.

Delaying the inevitable would only give him an UTI. With a groan he got out of the bed and knelt to reach for the bucket. He huffed when his fingers were a good feet too far, he cursed under his breath as he reached his leg, sliding the bucket on the carpet with tiny kicks.

He tried to ignore how humiliating it felt to be doing this, the echoey sound was impossibly loud in the dead of night. He couldn’t only partly see what he was doing and to be honest, doing all that one handed was frustrating. He put his pants back up and threw himself on the bed again, scooting to the other side— Peter’s side. It did’t matter, he wanted to be as far away from the bucket as possible.

He felt filthy. His hands felt dirty, as if a thick layer of filth and grime coated his skin. Making everything he touched dirty. He longed for a shower, or at least for some water to wash his hands.

He turned, his back on the bed, not a flick of tiredness. Stupid drugs. Did that mean he’d be up all night? A fucked-up sleep schedule is the last thing he needed right now.

—- —- —- —- —-

Noise coming from the kitchen downstairs woke him up. He knew he had sleep terrible, drifting in and out of a very light sleep. His hand landed on top of his stomach as it growled. His eyes switched to the clock on the nightstand 9:03 AM. Breakfast time. He closed his eyes as the aroma of Sierra’s coffee creeped into the room. The smell of bacon followed shortly.

The door opened. Elliot’s eyes snapped open. Peter entered the room, his silver hair was dripping wet.

“Morning, Elliot” Peter said politely before rummaging through his haircare products. He made a celebrating wohoo after he found the product, tossing into the air and catching it.

Peter walked to the bucket, tilting it with his foot to check its contents. He nodded to himself. “Pretty much empty.” He mumbled to before turning around and walking out the door.

“Hey, where are you going?” He quickly got up from the bed and was stopped by the handcuffs. He cursed as he shot an annoyed glare at the metal chain. His eyes returned to Peter, who stopped at the door and gave him an inquisitive look. “I don’t have any food here. None I can reach. I haven’t eaten since yesterday’s breakfast.” Elliot licked his lips, trying not to sound too desperate. “I need to eat, in case you forgot.”

“Oh? No, I haven’t forgotten.” Peter smiled, “So, that’s it?” He asked. He didn’t wait for an answer before giving Elliot a thumbs up. “Marvelous. Great.” He clapped enthusiastically before walking out.

Elliot stared at the door, dumbfounded. He let himself go on the edge of bed. He could hear movement in the kitchen. More importantly, he could smell all the food being prepared. He licked his dry lips.

He’d come back. Peter had never made him go hungry. He’d beat him. He’d tase him. He’d keep him restrained 24/7. He’d choke him. He’d hit him. But everyday, like clockwork, he’d get fed. At least once a day, a big meal if Peter had gone busy with him and lost track of time.

The thing is, he didn’t come back.

After a while, no sounds were coming out of the kitchen. The aroma of food slowly faded. The house fell into its usual silence. Elliot heard Peter leave for work, shortly after, he heard Sierra leave, too.

He was alone now, for the next eight or nine hours. He was hungry. No— starving. His eyes focus on the night stand. He has to find something, anything. He rummaged through the drawers, his movements frantic. A piece of gum, or some mints. He wasn’t sure what was he looking for, just anything.

Just useless papers, cables, an old bible. He moved on to the next nightstand. That one was empty. He stood up, the restricting chain rattled, it was getting on his nerves. He grabbed a hold of the bed’s bottom frame and pulled, dragging it across the floor to the other side of the bedroom.

Elliot had never imagined he could be grateful for anything ever, not anymore, but now he was thankful that Peter was a loser with zero sense of interior design. That meant no obstacles on his path as he shifted the massive bed around. He stopped for a second to catch his breath. He was feeling weak already due to the lack of substance.

Once he had dragged the bed far enough, he opened Peter’s drawer. Underwear in the first one. Shirts in the second one. Sweatpants in the third.

Nothing. He exhaled as he looked around, mentally checking off every place he had searched. His head throbbed, and he was getting dizzy.

Fuck Peter. Fuck him.

And fuck Sierra, too.

—- —- —- —-

The hours dragged on. Elliot’s stomach twisted and turned, trying to digest something that wasn’t there. The emptiness in his gut was painful. The build up of yet another hunger pang was agonizing. He pressed his hand to his stomach, hoping to ease the pain, but it only made it worse. Every growl was louder than the last one.

His head perks up as he hear a car pulled into the driveway. He quickly mustered all the energy he had left to set the bed back into place. The last thing he needed was to give Peter yet another reason to get pissed off. Elliot might not want to be all good and proper, but he wasn’t an idiot either.

His stomach complained again, growling, sounding angry. Elliot placed a hand on his middle, pressing down to muffle the sound. Peter’s heavy steps could be heard climbing up the stairs. Elliot’s eyes fixed on the door.

Peter opened the door, barely throwing him a glance. “Hey, handsome.” He greeted casually, unbuttoning the cuffs on his shirt.

Elliot gulps, his throat suddenly felt parched dry.

“God, I almost forgot. Hold on a sec,” He said, sprinting out of the room.

Peter comes back a few minutes later with a glass of cold water. “Here you go. I bet you’re thirsty.”

Elliot stared at the glass of water, shaking his head slightly. “Peter— I’m hungry. I-”

“You don’t want it?” Peter interrupted. Elliot looked at him with wide eyes, he started to shake his head.

“I do. I do.” Elliot’s tone was frantic, desperate. He hated himself in that moment. “I’m just… I’m so hungry, Peter.”

“You can have this water,” Peter talked slowly, enunciating every word, Elliot huffed at the patronizing tone. His head was throbbing. “Or not.”

“You’re sick.” Elliot said, but still reached for the glass.

Peter chuckled.

—- —- —- —-

The glass of water helped with the dizziness and the throbbing headache, but the emptiness in Elliot’s stomach was present as ever. Elliot curled into a fetal position on the bed, the hunger pangs were getting more and more painful. His gut still trying to digest air, nothing. It wasn’t getting the memo that it was not getting any food.

Two days. It had been two days since he’d eaten anything. Peter came regularly to give him water. Elliot accepted reluctantly, it dulled his aching hunger for a while. Peter’s visits were brief, always rushed. Before Elliot had gathered himself enough to speak, Peter was already gone.

The smell of steak and roasted vegetables filled the entire house, creeping in and surrounding him, a cruel reminder of everything he couldn’t have. His eyes watered in frustration. His stomach tightened with each breath he took, his mouth painfully watered.

He closed his eyes and hugged his middle. His mind can’t help but imagine the flavors, how it’d feel to have the juicy meat on his mouth, he fantasizes about the crunchy veggies. He could smell soy source too. He swallows.

The door opens. Peter entered, carrying two plates of food. Elliot’s eyes widen and are glued to the food, he pulled himself up. His stomach growled loudly, he placed a hand on his hollow gut, as if to silence it.

Peter watched the action with a knowing smile.

“Guys like you shrink down quick, huh?” Peter said with a teasing voice, eyeing him up and down. “You look bony already.”

Elliot no reply. He knew Peter was right. He had noticed the changes on his body. The concave gut. He wasn’t sure if he looked bony but he felt weak. He felt lighter, not in a good way.

“I’m guessing that’s not for me.” Elliot said, swallowing thick as his eyes could not pry away from the food.

Peter laughs. “Oh this? Yeah, this is my lunch.” He sat on his desk, he crossed his legs as he takes a bite, moaning as he chewed. “Oh, so tender.”

Elliot’s stomach growled again, louder this time, he winced. He must look so desperate —he felt desperate. Every fiber of his body wanted to grab the plate, swallow the food, leave no crumbs behind.

“I’ll leave this here.” Peter shrugged innocently as he pointed at the second plate, he stood up, bringing his own plate along. “For you to think about.”

“No.” Elliot’s eyes met Peter’s. This didn’t count, he wasn’t begging, he thought. He would go crazy if he left the food there, so close but so far. “Take it, please.”

Peter raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t ask if you wanted it or not.” He left his empty plate on his desk, took another pair of handcuffs and, before Elliot could protest, his left wrist was shackled to the other side of the bed frame. Elliot felt his stomach drop. His big mouth had him lose the little freedom he had.

Without another word, Peter exited the bedroom. Elliot slumped back against the bed, he forced his eyes to remain on the ceiling, not the food. His stomach growled again, a hunger pang twisting inside of him. In this position, he was unable to rub his aching stomach. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the pain, the hunger, the thought of the food warm, waiting for him.

#whumptober2024 #no.12 #starvation #oc #fic #drugging #choking #Elliot feeling betrayal <333!!#a longer piece hehe #whump #oc elliot harper #oc peter bane #oc sierra henry #after this one i literally have nothing more prepared soooo i better get writinggg #whump writing

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