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katbrando · 2 years ago

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♡ a dinokat valentine's day

SFW (mildly suggestive) // 3.9k cw: illegal levels of cheese and fluff, diego being silly read on ao3 instead // full banner art

It’s an hour past the time Diego usually gets home from work; not quite late enough to raise concern, but still odd for a routine-focused man like him. I’ve refrained from making dinner for the two of us in hopes we could prepare a meal together; a plan that feels right considering the date, but one that’s starting to feel less and less feasible as the night goes on.

Valentine’s Day is difficult for me, a holiday with no positive memories, only embarrassing flashbacks that consistently raid my mind even weeks beforehand. My mixed feelings about it aren’t even the slightest bit Diego’s fault, as he’s always eager to extend romantic gestures, though the lack of anything so far today has surprised me. I glance at the time on my tablet – 6 PM, nearly on the dot – and huff an anxious sigh. Just sitting here on the couch and attempting to distract myself by drawing isn’t doing me any good. It’s not like it’s working; I’ve been nervously chewing on my nails for god knows how long at this point.

It’s just so odd. My mind wanders, as it tends to do, and I try to come to some kind of conclusion. I hate to be a bother, but I set my tablet aside and shoot Diego a quick text, simply asking “everything okay?”

We’ve been dating for nine months at this point, much longer than I ever could have dreamed of. Diego is good to me, scarily so. Sometimes it all feels like a facade, or some kind of sick joke, as if one of my friends or family members is paying him off to give me love and attention. I can’t help but feel pathetic around him sometimes; his experience is astronomical in contrast with mine, and I worry that I don’t live up to his expectations. Of course, this is all fabricated by my self-sabotaging tendencies. Diego tells me he loves me, shows me through his actions, offers me patience despite my anxiety in the face of vulnerability. I probably don’t deserve him, though I’m sure he’d scoff and call me ridiculous if he ever heard me say so.

At this point I’ve fully laid back on the couch, eyes fixed on the ceiling. He hasn’t texted me back yet, but maybe that’s a sign he’s driving home. Maybe, if I try to take a nap, the thoughts will subside for now.

Moments after I’ve started to drift away, there’s a knock on the door. I immediately surge upwards into a seated position and look at the entryway of our home. Who in the world could possibly be bothering us this late at night, especially when the two of us are known for being insistent on privacy? I simply stare at the door, hoping whoever it is might give up and leave.

Another knock, a little louder this time. Clearly I’ve got no choice but to answer. I tentatively cross through the living room and tug a stepstool over to the door, glancing through the peephole and immediately feeling my heart jump.

There stands Diego, knocking at his own house. I can’t see very well, but he isn’t wearing his work uniform. I mumble a quick “Christ, what’s he up to?” and nudge the step stool out of the way with my foot.

I quickly unlock the door and let it swing open. “God, Dee, you scared the shit out of m –”

My throat instantly barricades against whatever I was about to say. Clad in a dusty rose colored suit, Diego offers me a toothy grin and extends his hand. In it he holds a bouquet of dried flowers, a gift bag hanging from his wrist.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, love. I’m a bit late.”

“You –” My words are still jumbled. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” He raises one thick eyebrow, practically shoving his gifts against my chest. “Is this not what a boyfriend does for his lovely girlfriend? On Valentine’s Day?”

I’m speechless, full of questions that I’m trying to sort by importance in my head. Why is he late? Why did he find it necessary to do this? How much money has he spent?

“Darling, I know you’re spacey sometimes but don’t tell me you forgot what day it is.” Diego enters our home and I step aside to let him in, shutting the door behind him.

“What is this?” I gesture vaguely towards him. “Dee, you know I’m –”

“What, opposed to the tradition?” He knowingly smirks, one sharp tooth sticking out from between his lips. “I’m aware.”

Giving up on my hesitation with taking his gifts, Diego steps into our small kitchen and gently places both the bouquet and gift bag on the counter. I’m able to see his outfit better this way; he’s wearing a subtly striped white and pink button-down, partnered with a perfectly fit suit with a slightly cropped blazer, making his legs look much longer than they actually are. He’s unbearably handsome, like always, hair so gorgeously tousled, lips pulled into a soft smile. Diego approaches me again and leans against the wall, reaching out to lift my chin with one finger.

“I know you better than you’d ever admit, darling.” His cerulean eyes scan my face. “Allow yourself to indulge in a little cliche trope.”

“You didn’t have to do all…” I point to the gifts, “that. I’d settle for just spending time with you.”

“Right,” he says, tone almost dismissive, “and we can do that. We will do that.” He reaches for my hand and laces his fingers between mine. “I know this day isn’t easy for you.”

I squeeze his hand and avoid his stare, opting for the wall behind him instead. “I’m just not into cliches, you know that.”

“Hmm.” Diego tilts his head enough to lock eyes with me again. “Or are you just not used to someone making sure you enjoy it?”

Dammit, I hate how perceptive he is sometimes. The bastard is so smart, always unearthing feelings and struggles from within me that sometimes I’m not even aware of. With only one terrible experience in my singular relationship before him, it’s hard to hold any kind of positivity towards a day like today.

“Kat,” Diego softly demands my attention, and I offer it. “I need you to know how much I adore you. This is simply an expression of that. No one’s ever done this for you before.” He doesn’t need to remind me, but when he does I feel a wave of embarrassment rush through me.

Just as quickly as I’d looked at him, I lower my gaze again and try to fight off the stinging at the corners of my eyes.

“Darling,” Diego coos, again lifting my chin, this time cupping it. He steps closer to me and runs his thumb along the space below my eye. “You deserve this. You’re so good to me. Not so much with plants, but I even picked a bouquet we won’t have to water. I’m quite thoughtful.” He cheekily smiles again.

A singular tear peeks out and is quickly caught by his thumb. Diego reaches out with both arms and I don’t even hesitate to embrace him. He’s warm and strong and he feels like home.

“God, I love you.” His voice vibrates against my chest, his hand runs through my hair and he kisses the top of my head. “I couldn’t wait to celebrate today with you.”

There’s no use in holding back, so I let myself cry. I let myself grasp at the back of his blazer and hold him as closely as possible. He didn’t need to bring home gifts, it wasn’t necessary for him to get all dressed up like this (though I’m now keenly aware of why he’d left home with a full backpack, something he’s never done before), but he did. He’d put forth the effort to show me his love and devotion on a day he knew would be hard for me to get through. His devotion never fails to amaze me.

“Diego, I swear to god,” I mumble against his chest, then lift my head to continue more clearly, “next time let me know you’re gonna be late. My anxiety was through the roof.” I end the statement with a laugh, just so he’ll know I’m not actually upset with him.

“You worry too much.” Diego rolls his eyes.

“I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“I love you for it.” He leans closer and brushes his lips against mine. “Now kiss me, I think I deserve it.”

Diego doesn’t need to ask twice, and even if he did he’d be interrupted by an impassioned kiss. He hums with satisfaction against my lips and coaxes them apart, dragging his tongue along mine in tandem with a grip of my waist. If he isn’t careful I might end up dragging him into our bedroom, but for now his eagerness to show what he’s brought home for me trumps any carnal desires either of us might have.

We kiss for only a short time, after which he grasps my hand and guides me into the kitchen. “Now,” he starts, flourishing his free hand towards my gifts, “would you like to see?”

“Of course,” I relent, leaning against one side of the island and eyeing the red gift bag. “Go ahead, show me what you’ve spent an obscene amount of money on.”

“Hey now,” Diego tuts, taking his place on the opposite side. “I know better. Can’t have you making me sleep in the car because I’ve spent our house payment on a silly set of diamond earrings or something.”

“Aw, you’re learning,” I tease him.

Diego sarcastically shakes his head and reaches into the bag. First he pulls out a neatly wrapped box just slightly bigger than his hand, then shoots me a sly grin. “That’s for later.” I watch him slide it off to the side; my mind doesn’t have to do too much contemplating to know what sort of item rests inside.He digs inside again and brandishes a chocolate heart box, placing it on the island and nudging it towards me.

“Chocolate?” I softly laugh. I’m not much of a sweets guy, but Diego certainly is. “I hope you’re gonna help me eat this, it might go bad before I finish.”

“Open it,” he instructs, “there's a little twist.”

Of course there is. My mouth pulls into a fond smile as I carefully untie the box’s ribbon and lift the lid. Inside, in each space meant for a piece of chocolate, sits a number of folded up pieces of paper.

“Oh, so you ate it all,” I jest. “Now I’ve just got a fancy box.”

“Quit being ridiculous.” Diego waves his hand towards the several pieces of paper. “Pick one.”

My first instinct is to grab the paper in the very center. I stare at him for a moment with one raised eyebrow, but he just keeps looking at me with an insistent expression. Finally I unfold the paper and am met with his beautiful handwriting.

“I’m lucky to wake up next to you every morning; the way the sun graces your skin makes my heart go into overdrive. It’s a shame you wake up so easily, because there’s some days I want to simply lie there and admire you. I hope I’ll have more opportunities, so please work on your light sleeping or pretend to be asleep for longer.”

Dammit, the tears are back.

“God, you’re such a sap.” I quickly swipe my palm against my cheeks. Diego, the smug bastard he is, chuckles softly at my reaction and leans further against the island.

“You like it,” he correctly observes. “It’s a small part of my enormous charm.”

Generally I’d throw some sort of humorous jab at him in response, but for tonight I let him bristle with pride. Instead, I reach to grab another piece of paper, but I’m interrupted by him quickly swiping the box out of my reach.

“Hey now,” he quips, “save some for later. It’s not healthy to overindulge on sweets.”

“Good lord,” I groan in response to his ridiculous joke. “You probably had that one tucked away all day, huh?”

Diego’s trademark goofy smile graces his face again and I fail in attempting to look at him in mock disgust. “Come on, it was funny.”

It’s no surprise to me that we’ve gradually been leaning closer to each other again; it’s like gravity is constantly easing us together. My palm cups the side of his face, my thumb grazing his cheekbone. Eating up the affection, he presses himself closer and watches me expectantly, probably itching to hear praise.

I leave him hanging for a moment, admiring every part of his expression before grasping his chin. Squeezing his lips between my thumb and fingers, I give his head a gentle shake. “You’re so stinkin’ cute.” I pause, relishing in the way he hangs off every word. “And funny too, I guess.”

Diego smiles again when I release my hold on his face, confidently grabbing the heart box and placing it farther off to the side. From my angle, the bag looks empty at this point, but Diego fishes inside again.

“There’s more?” I attempt to hide the guilt in my tone, but based on Diego’s raised eyebrow it seems I’ve failed.

“I’ve covered all the bases, love.” Diego scoffs, pulling out an envelope and extending it towards me. “It’s a shame you’ve never gotten the Valentine’s Day experience. It’s my mission to make up for all the idiots who’ve failed you.”

With a sigh I give him a look of silent thanks. The envelope is sealed with a heart-shaped sticker, inside is a typical Valentine’s card and another folded piece of paper. The front of the card shows a cartoon dinosaur surrounded by hearts, inside it reads ‘You’ve got me raptor round your finger.’ Perfectly cheesy, I’d expect nothing less from Diego Brando.

“Funny, right?” Diego prods, bristling with satisfaction when I nod and laugh. “I thought you’d like it.”

“It’s adorable,” I admit, setting it down and turning my focus to the paper that accompanies it. “Now what’s this? What cliche rests inside this paper?”

“Open it and you’ll find out, you nutter.” Diego waves his hand impatiently.

When I unfold it, I’m met with a handwritten list of songs, below which sits a sloppily taped cartoon dinosaur (much like the card) holding a heart. Every song he’s written down holds a lot of meaning to the both of us, songs that we frequently sing together in the car, songs we find ourselves dancing horribly to in the living room. It’s as if his entire goal tonight is to make me cry as much as possible, and he’s doing a very good job of it.

“God, Dee,” I manage despite being choked up, “this is way too much, babe.”

“No.” Diego shakes his head. “It’s not, quit acting so inadequate, it doesn’t suit you.”

Even if he thinks that, it’s still so difficult for me to feel worthy of his generosity. Diego doesn’t do things for people; it’s not that he’s selfish, he just doesn’t waste his time and energy on people he thinks nothing of. Knowing this, I should feel deserving of his affection, because it comes from a place of undying devotion and care. Most would look at him and see a man who’s self-centered and quite vain, and while that’s not completely inaccurate, it’s a shame that most aren’t privileged to see the side of him that I see every single day.

“I love you,” Diego interrupts my overthinking, probably sensing that I need to be grounded at this moment. He gently plucks the playlist from my grasp and lays it on the table, reaching for both my hands and placing a kiss against both. “I don’t say it enough.”

“You don’t have to.” I squeeze his fingers tight. “You show me it every single day.”

Silence settles between us for a beat, the only communication present through our eye contact. His expression says a million words, all full of a tenderness he’s rarely comfortable enough to show.

“Now,” I start, narrowing my eyes at him and tilting my head curiously, “how in the world did you pull all this off without me having any idea?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” Diego stands up straight and lifts his chin, smugly giving a rundown of his thorough plans. “I took this outfit to work, sneakily packed it away so that you’d never have any idea.”

I stay silent about my previous confusion earlier this morning. It definitely wasn’t subtle, but he appears quite proud of himself and I’m not about to shoot that down.

“Work went as normal, though I’ll admit it was painfully slow. I had these flowers delivered during my lunch break, put in a pickup order at the store so I’d be able to simply grab your chocolate and card as I headed home. And the playlist? I wrote that out on my break as well.” He lowers his stare to eye me with delight, and I encourage him with a look of amazement. “One of our neighbors allowed me to use their shower so I wouldn’t smell like lizard piss, then I changed into this suit and voila, here I am.” He gestures dramatically towards himself. “Impressed?”

Just to fuck with him, I replace my amazement with a judgemental frown. “Hmm. Maybe a little.”

“Come off it!” He huffs, though based on his wobbly smile I know he’s aware I’m just joking.

“I’m kidding, Dee.” With one finger I beckon him towards me. “Get your ass over here.”

Diego eagerly walks around the kitchen island and stops just inches from me, lifting one eyebrow and smirking. “My ass is here,” he mumbles.

I give said ass a quick pat before wrapping my arms around his neck. “Thank you, babe. For all of this.” I pause just to appreciate the smile that spreads across his face, then lower my voice to a soft whisper, “Now c’mere.” Reading my mind as usual, the tail end of my request gets cut off by his lips softly pressing against mine.

No longer distracted by his desire to shower me in gifts, he instead kisses me without abandon. One warm palm rests at the nape of my neck, the other pulls me closer by my lower back. I’ll never get tired of doing this, no matter how many times we’ve spent quiet moments pressed so tightly together. I only break away to ask a question that suddenly pops into my head.

“So you’re telling me you ate all that chocolate already?”

“Hmm?” Diego’s face twists into confusion, as if he’s completely forgotten one of his gifts. Realization crosses his face after a few seconds. “Ah, of course not! Not before dinner, love.”

Still holding me close to his chest, he reaches over to the gift bag and pulls out a zip-lock bag full of chocolate. He grins and waves it around. “See? We can share it later.”

Heart leaping with affection, I press my face against his shoulder and groan. “God, you’re so cute.”

Diego lets the bag thump against the island and returns his full attention to me, running one hand lovingly up and down my back. “I’m also quite hungry.”

“Wanna cook dinner?” With my chin lifted I rest it against his chest. “I was hoping we could.”

“Of course.” Diego backs up and presses one last kiss to my cheek. “How’s pasta sound? Mum left behind a delicious recipe for mascarpone pesto.”

“Sounds perfect.”

With that, we set to work. Diego shrugs off his blazer and, despite my suggestion that he change into something more comfortable, he waves it off and simply rolls up his sleeves. A view like that quickly makes me grateful he’s refused my offer.

As we cook dinner he takes every opportunity to cheekily kiss or brush against me. It’s clear to me that he’s intending on riling me up for what I’m sure will be an eventful evening. While we enjoy our dinner together, Diego suggests – no, insists – that we both call in the following morning. Filled to the brim with appreciation and fondness, there’s no way I could possibly say no.

With dinner finished and dishes placed in the kitchen sink, I take up the task of filling the dishwasher. In the process, I feel one of Diego’s palms connect purposefully with my waist. The contact initially makes me jump, but only because I had no idea he’d been standing right behind me in the first place.

“Christ, Dee,” I start, then giggle when he spins me around to face him. Despite already finishing our meal, there’s a look of hunger in his eyes.

He says nothing in response, just grasps my waist and pulls me flush against his chest. Our lips connect in a quick, fervent kiss and my arms instinctively reach to wrap around his neck, one hand playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. Back bumping against the counter, I quickly understand where Diego’s mind is running off to.

Blindly, I kick at the dishwasher door until it swings and clicks shut. Diego pulls back to laugh against my lips, probably humored by my struggle. I take the opportunity to gently tug his bottom lip between my teeth. Understanding the gesture as one of encouragement, Diego wraps an arm around me and somehow presses me even tighter against his body.

“How’s about we have dessert?” He whispers, warm breath fanning across my cheeks.

“We just ate, babe.” A quick brush of my hand against his ass is meant to punctuate my sarcasm.

“You know what I mean.” Diego lightheartedly scoffs.

Of course I know; we’re both on the same page, after all. Within a couple minutes we’ve stumbled into the bedroom, his hands never leaving my body. As soon as the back of my knees bump against the mattress I take a seat and use the lapse in contact to admire him. He leans down, resting both palms on either side of my body as I quickly work at undoing his shirt.

Luckily for me, the top two buttons are already free, but the rest quickly follow suit. Diego’s lips are firmly pressed against mine, increasing with desire when I slip his shirt out from his pants. The garment lands on the floor with a soft thump and I quickly drag my fingernails along his midriff; the way he shivers at the contact makes me smirk with satisfaction against his lips.

“Is this alright?” Diego whispers, despite knowing the answer. He’s wonderful about consent, though I’m sure part of why he asks is because the validation gets him off anyway.

“Yes,” I plainly answer, kissing the corner of his mouth, “this is part of the tradition, no?”

“Well,” he softly laughs, “I suppose it’s the final bit of the mental checklist I’ve been ticking off.”

“Let’s see it then, give me the full experience”

With my encouragement fueling him, Diego does just that. It’s clear to me now why he’d suggested skipping work in the morning. With the way things are going, we might be up for quite some time.

#my writing #dinokat #modern au #pls tumblr do not fuck up the formatting ........... last time i posted something this long tumblr ate half of it #it was Crucial for me to make an effort to enjoy this day hence the overkill on dinokat content

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kati-the-crafting-girl · 2 years ago

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I decided I’d not post WIPs again, as that seems frustrating for some of you… But! I digress! I love this piece because it’s actually Aldara not doing the “talk to the hand” pose, but a “stop, something’s coming” hand pose which is a universal sign for imminent danger coming. But, the question is this: Is a Villain coming? Or is it a hero from the States looking for Aldara to recruit her to the North American Public Hero Safety Commission?

For all of your ignoramuses, Mexico is in fact part of North America. It’s not part of Central America, and it’s definitely NOT part of South America. I don’t care if you say, “But Mexico is part of Latin America, Which consists of Central and South America!” IT’S ON THE NORTH AMERICAN TECTONIC PLATE, CRY ABOUT IT.

This drawing is called “Aldara Protective” since Aldara’s quirk is Phoenix Wings. This quirk gives her the heightened senses of both Eagle and Owl, and a bird-like version of Danger Sense. It’s not as accurate as Danger sense, as it’s more animalistic and drives Aldara’s fight-or-flight senses to the roof when her odyssey (venture if it’s either her immediate family or her specific group of friends) is threatened. Aldara is a fighter, so she usually picks fight over flight.

In Native American culture, Her quirk mirrors that of a Thunderbird. With the only exception being she uses fire and not lightning. But the healing factor is there. Her Native American Nickname roughly translates to Thunderbird, as whenever she went to a reservation, she brought peace among feuding families, healing to the sick, and abundance of crops and water to each reservation she was received in. She had kindly asked the people there not to commemorate her as a reincarnation of any legend or any god they freely worshipped, as she didn’t deserve that title.

Years pass, and Aldara Graduates UA, with her Pro Hero License being marked as International, so she could work in Mexico. The problem was, she would have to fly to Japan to renew it every several years. She finds a Huichol community and decides to stay there, remembering the language her mother spoke and sang to her every night when she was a child before her passing. She speaks to her host family with fluency, and is able to get them new clothes on her salary. She’s able to stay in contact with Citlalic, her sister in another country, whenever she’s available.

Luz is Citlalic’s real name, but everyone calls her by her hero name, even her own father, who’s proud of her!

Anyways, enough of my drabble! The kid is her host sister, and is telling her that the dinner’s ready. Aldara interrupting her by a mysterious noise in the air, and looks up. Of course, the kid goes “oh,” making an o-shape with her mouth. That’s all I have to say. It’s up to your interpretation whether or not Aldara is going to fight the levitating person, or if she’s going to accept (or reject) joining a legion of heroes sort of group!

As always, keep drawing and don’t give up! You’ll be an awesome artist one day! And if you think of me as such, I am honored. But I’m just an average adult that has somewhat mastered the basics of Krita (Yes, I use Krita! for Desktop, it’s open-source. But for S-Mode Tablets, it’s 10 USD. You can bypass the S-Mode on any Microsoft Tablet by turning it off)!

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admiringlove · 2 years ago

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hello!! congratulations on 2k followers! thats a big milestone :)

i'd like to send in something for the event!

my name is yves and my favorite haikyuu character is sakusa 💌 i like to draw digitally in my spare time and i love spicy food and sweet snacks. other than drawing, i also like calling with my friends, listening to calming music and designing characters. oh and, if this info is helpful i'm an INTP! :)

thank you for your time and again congratulations on 2k!! you deserve it 🤲

spicy food and late night calls.

hello yves! thank you for the request! i hope this came out as well as you imagined it :)

when the doorbell to your apartment rung, you didn't expect there to be two delivery men from two different stores standing on the other side. they looked just as confused as you. and when you said that you hadn't ordered anything, they said the same thing.

"but the order was placed by sakusa kiyoomi."

you raised an eyebrow, immediately pulling out your phone and texting him.

hey, did you order food and flowers?

his reply comes within milliseconds. as if he was waiting for you to ask that question.

omi: they're for you.

his reply makes you smile, reminding you of how you were early on in your relationship with him. going on dates that had very low budgets because of how broke the two of you were, him buying you small trinkets and telling you the same thing as he did now, "they're for you". you remember the time he gifted you a new digital pen—it had been from his first official salary from being in the msby jackals. he'd said the same thing to you when you'd looked up at him in awe after opening the gift. "it's for you", his voice had been soft, but it echoed through your heart as you wrapped your arms around him and shed tears into his chest, thanking him for simply being there. he'd kissed the top of your head, telling you not to cry as he rubbed your back. from then on, you'd taught kiyoomi how to draw on a tablet. he found it quite irritating at first, having to keep his hand above the screen. but from irritated groans to your background snickers, he'd learned. and now, he preferred to draw parts of you on the screen. whether it be your eyes, the little specks of white and black in them in much detail. or your hands, every vein and bone accentuated.

you let out a small chuckle as you apologize to the two delivery men, taking the bouquet and takeout inside. as you place the packages on the counter, you find the note attached to the flowers.

and then, there's a call incoming from your phone. you know it's him by the ringtone you'd kept for him.

"you're quite the charmer, omi," you grin, "sending me food, flowers and handwritten notes even though you're halfway across the country? how romantic."

"so i don't even get a hello anymore," he retorts, "how unromantic."

"you don't need a hello when all you'll be getting are kisses from me when you get back," you mumble, "but really, how'd you manage to send a note you wrote yourself when you're in okinawa?"

"i went to the florist last night," he says, "wrote the note and told them to deliver it tonight. isn't that thoughtful of me?"

"i think you're getting in over your head," you giggle, pulling out the takeout containers, "also i can smell the spicy stuff. my nose is tingling."

"yeah, i don't miss that at all," you laugh when you hear him say that, reminiscing the time when you first made him eat the noodles from your favorite restaurant. his face had gone red, sweat dripping from his chin to his hair, and he had his tongue out to quench the heat. all you could do then was laugh as he drank glass after glass of iced water.

"you should've told me you have a low spice tolerance," you tell him, opening the container and taking your first bite, "how was i supposed to know you would turn into a tomato?"

"my mouth was on fire," he quips. you can just visualize his narrow eyes and playful frown, "and before you took me there, you should've asked me if i could handle it or not. how was i supposed to know that you would attempt to murder my digestive system?"

you grin, plopping down on your couch as your voice becomes soft, "i miss you already."

"i know," he tells you, "four more days and then i'm back."

"four more days and then i have okinawa's finest sweets coming home to me."

"i knew it," he feigns an offended gasp, "you're using me for food."

"oh no," you say, in a disappointed tone, "you caught me."

#sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa fluff #sakusa drabble #sakusa kyoomi headcanons #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu fluff

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lubdubsworld · 4 years ago

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Falling for you ( Falling from grace) Jungkook x OC

Rated : 18 +

Warning : . Fuck buddies? Or rather enemies that have sex. They just really hate each other but also can’t keep their hands off each other.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6

“Are you sure you want to head back to work today, Areum? Hoseok told me that he would give you the rest of the week off if you like... That bruise on your face is looking pretty nasty.” My sister commented mildly, her eyes worried as she watched me dab concealer on the mottled purpling skin on my jaw.

“I need to finish a couple of reports by the weekend. And Namjoon oppa told me he wanted me to be there when we viewed the CCTV footage later today. It’s going to help getting that bastard fired.” I flinched at how bad this side of my face looked.

The bastard.

“He’s not fired yet?” My sister made a noise of outrage.

“Of course he is. There’s a restraining order against him. But formally he needs to be terminated and Namjoon wants to do it in a way that it goes on his record permanently. Especially considering he’s already out on bond.” I wrinkled my nose.

There wasn’t much chance of Junho going to prison over this but I definitely did not want him within fifty feet of me, ever again.

“Jungkook’s busy with his practice is it? I haven’t heard from him...” My sister prompted and I nodded.

“His big match is coming up on Sunday. That's like four days away ...he’s probably cooped up in that gym of his.”

“I know... Seokjin works out there too... its a great place...how come you’re never there?”

I frowned .

“He actually has me blacklisted. I’m not allowed inside the establishment. ” I muttered.

My sister’s eyes widened.

“What? Why?”

I shrugged. The memory was a good one and worth reliving. In fact i relived it quite often when I was particularly horny with only my own hands for relief.

“I seduced him against his favorite punching bag once and he had to get rid of it because the cum stains wouldn’t come off. He’s a petty jerk.” I grinned at my sister enjoying the way her eyes went wide as saucers. .

She stared at me slack jawed. And then she shook her head in disbelief.

“You talk about him this way but you always look like you're half way in love with him. I don’t know what is going on in your head when it comes to Jungkook.”

I laughed.

“I love him. Of course I do.... I’m pretty sure he cares about me too, “ I remembered how warm and content I’d felt when he’d held me, how the police officer had immediately concluded he was my boyfriend, simply from the concern radiating off him, “ But, I’m not going to push for anything. I like how we are ...now.”

“Friends with benefits.?”

“I prefer the term enemies who fuck” I winked and she groaned.

“Whatever you say. But remember, you’re going to have to DTR at some point and I hope you don’t get a shock if he isn’t on the same page. “

“Unlikely. Now go distract mom so I can slip out of the back door.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That looks pretty fucking bad.” Hoseok winced when he saw me and I groaned.

“Don’t remind me. I ran into Namjoon on the way up and he swelled like a bullfrog. Is Jungkook in today?” I asked him brightly.

Hoseok frowned.

“you guys are awfully chummy these days ....Need I remind you about the clause on interpersonal relationships in the office?”

I flushed.

“We’re...not....I mean. We’re friends. “

“I thought the term was enemies who fuck.” Hoseok said thoughtfully and I jumped.

“What-?”

“Jungkook told me, you little brat. I asked him why he went over to the police station and broke Junho’s fucking jaw and he spilled...”

My own jaw came unhinged.

“ He what?!”

“He posted the bond money for the bastard himself to get him out and then apparently punched him hard enough to land him in the hospital.”

“Oh my God...is he in trouble?”

Hoseok sighed.

“Of course not... Mr. Jeon had it taken care off at once but I knew something was up . He’s too old to play knight in shining armor , unless there was something between you guys...”

I sighed.

“We’re in a purely physical relationship yes with of course a splattering of affection for each other. But nothing that deserves a label or close scrutiny from the HR dept. Please Hobi oppa, just let me be. “ I fluttered my lashes and he rolled his eyes.

“Just as long as you know that Jeon Jungkook is a chaebol. He’s not going to make a honest woman out of you.” Hoseok gave me a pointed look and I wondered if I really did wear my heart on my sleeve.

Apparently, everyone could sense that my feelings for Jungkook ran deeper than just lust and I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing.

“Anyway, yo answer you question, yes. He’s in his office right now.”

I made to turn away but Hoseok grabbed my wrist.

“You have thirty five memos to answer and seventeen appointments to schedule. Your desk is this way, I suggest you head in that direction.” His eyes glinted in a way that told me he was incredibly serious.

I pouted.

Fine... I’d wait for lunch to go meet Jungkook.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook had a secretary of his own , the smitten Miss Lee and she gave me an angelic smile, telling me that Jungkook was out to meet someone in the marketing department. If there was anything important, I could leave it with her.

Declining the offer and thanking her, I made my way to the fireescape and the back stairwell. One of the doors opened to the emergency exit in Jungkook’s office and it took me a little bit of running around but I managed to locate it easily enough.

Jungkook had left the door open and less than ten minutes later , I was in his office, staring around in mild awe.

Weirdly enough, I’d never been here. before, mostly because Jungkook himself wasn’t in here all that much. But there was no mistaking that he actually did take his work seriously . I peered around the expensive drawing Tablet and the three or so monitor screens , the stylus tossed about.

It was probably a huge breach of his privacy but I couldn’t help but click on the mouse, watching his monitor come alive.

I blinked in disbelief when I realized what I was staring at.

“Oh my fuck...” I

I felt my face flood with heat as I stared at the screen.

It was a drawing of me.

I was completely naked , reclining against what looked like a thick white fur rug , with countless plush cushions scattered all around me. The snow white fur set off the golden glow of my skin and I noticed the attention to detail, the tiny mole in the corner of my hip, the small half moon scar on the edge of my collar bone and of course an impressive collection of hickeys on my neck and my inner thighs.

I looked the way I usually did when I was mouthing off at him, a little angry and rebellious, my eyes blazing with a challenge and my lips parted in annoyance . I had one hand resting right between my legs, two fingers pressed against the labia while the other two disappeared into me. The other hand lay on my breast, fingers tweaking one hard nipple .

I turned away quickly, breathing harshly as I realized that Jungkook had literally drawn an incredibly accurate drawing of me masturbating , purely from memory.

Not entirely sure if i should be angry at this or not, I tried to clear the hazy cloud of arousal that was beginning to settle all over me. I wasn’t angry.

I was just ridiculously turned on.

And incredibly curious if he had other pics of me.

I whirled back around to the computer and then nearly jumped out of my skin when I realized that Jungkook was leaning against the doorway, watching me with an amused smile on his face.

“Oh, fuck...” I clutched at my heart which felt like it was going to give out.

“Pretty sure your desk isn’t here, Areum. Are you lost?” He drawled, stepping away from the door and stalking over to me.

I stepped back quickly, the action purely instinctive.

“Did you punch Junho?” I asked sharply.

Jungkook gave me a small smile.

“That is a very mild way to put it yes. He’s gonna be eating through a straw for a couple of months , yes.”

I glared at him.

“What if you got arrested.” I folded my arms.

He laughed.

“Baby, come on. fucker had it coming. Anyway enough about that loser. Why are you hovering near my desk. Corporate espionage is generally frowned upon baby... Am i gonna have to spank you, you naughty girl?” He waggled his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes before walking up to his desk and turning the screen around to show the lewd artwork .

“how long have you been drawing me like that?” I pointed at the screen and Jungkook looked surprised.

Surprised but not particularly bothered.

“Ah... i love that one... Did you see the way I only drew four of your fingers between your legs baby, your thumb is supposed to be rubbing on your clit.... I was working on it when I got called away earlier....” He looked apologetic.

I felt like I had turned the exact shade of the marron carpet under my foot.

“Jungkook how long have you been drawing me naked...” I snapped.

“ Oh... probably the first time you let me see you naked.” He said nodding lightly and I stared at him.

“How come I’ve never heard of this?” I hissed and he gave me a grin.

“Because it’s for my own personal...use.” He grinned.

I glared at him.

“How many....?” I demanded.

Jungkook shrugged.

“50...? 60? Definitely at least fifty.” He said casually.

I stared at him.

“I wanna see them.” I said sharply. Jungkook sighed, like I was being a pain , which was so unfair it made me want to scream.

“Areum, I-”

“Jungkook?” A soft voice called from the outer office and I frowned when Jungkook startled.

“Oh, hey... Sana..... Come in.” His voice had shifted into something mild and pleasant and I felt my hackles rise.

“Oh..hello... Areum ssi...” The girl gave me a confused smile and I resisted the urge to fold my hands and demand what she was doing there. Instead , I moved away from behind Jungkook’s desk, grabbing a file.

“Good afternoon Sana ssi.” I smiled.

“I’m sorry, I missed lunch, Sana.... I wanted to give you this. “ Jungkook pulled out a small envelope from his jacket, smiling an absolutely angelic smile at her.

Sana looked suitably enthralled, her eyes trained greedily on his perfect face as she took the envelope.

“Oh.. are these--?”

“Tickets to my match on Sunday yes...” He smiled. “ I’m hoping you’ll be there.”

I felt my lungs expand as I took a deep breath to calm myself down. The urge to screech like a banshee was increasing by the second.

“Oh, I’ll be there for sure. I’ll be cheering you on from the front row, Jungkook !!” She all but bounced on her feet, looking positively giddy with excitement as she bowed to both of us and literally floated away.

I waited till she was fully gone before turning on him.

“There better be another envelope in there with my name on it.” I gritted out.

Jungkook grinned wide at that, eyes dancing with mirth.

“In my jacket? Not really. But there’s something much better in my pants with your name on it. Want me to whip it out for you baby?? “

He grabbed the edge of his belt buckle, tugging the leather out of the hoops and I glared at him.

“You are out of your mind if you think I’m going to be okay with you letting everyone watch you fight but me. That is just unfair and uncalled for.” I snapped.

Jungkook was still tugging on his belt, but he paused to give me a look.

“What’s in it for me?” He said softly.

I frowned.

“What?”

“I’m not going to enter a deal without an equitable pay off....Its obvious that you’re really turned on by the thought of watching me fight . So unless you give me something I’m thirsty for.... I’m not going to indulge you,” He said casually.

I laughed in disbelief.

“There is literally nothing I’ve denied you in bed , you're crazy to even suggest -”

“I haven’t fucked your ass yet.” He said casually.

I could feel myself turning red.

“No.” I hissed. “ Absolutely not.”

“Why the hell not?” He frowned.

“Because it fucking hurts. I’m not going through that again.” I snapped.

Jungkook groaned like he was in actual pain.

“Baby, its hardly my fault you’ve never slept with a real man before me, is it? Why should I deprived the pleasure of fucking your ass just because those buffoons didn’t know how to do it right?” Jungkook’s voice was dangerously close to a whine and I resisted the urge to throw something at him.

“I don’t fucking care...its a no. So drop it. ”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes.

“Fine. I’ll drop it. For now.” He muttered and then made a big show of thinking, “ alright fine. How about you let me tie you up.”

I stared at him.

“You literally do that every time we have sex.” I pointed out.

“And I get to use my toy box.”

I blinked.

“Your toy box.” I said , confused. He grinned mischievously.

“You know the one...Big mahogany box underneath my bed. The first time I showed you, you kind of screamed and called me a monster?” He grinned wide.

i had a brief flashback of an assortment of whips, floggers and gags.

I shuddered.

Nope.

This wasn’t working.

“How about this.... Either you get me those tickets or you don’t get to fuck me. At all.” I smirked.

Jungkook hummed.

“Why would you punish yourself like that love?” He drawled. “ You can’t live without my dick, the sooner you accept that the easier life is going to get for you.”

The audacity of this bitch.

I walked right past him , ready to stalk out, but his hand shot out, gripping my elbow and pulling me into his embrace.

I struggled against his hold, but he brought both arms around my waist, flexing his muscles so I could feel just how futile it would be to try and break free.

“Come on baby, walking out in the middle of negotiations...that’s just really poor etiquette. Think of the poor hostage....” He pouted , doe eyes wide and I nearly caved. He had no fucking business being sexy and cute.

I laughed in disbelief.

“Hostage??....are you talking about your fucking ego....?” I stared right up at him , tilting my face when he moved to kiss me. His lips latched on to my jaw instead, tongue licking the skin there gently as he hummed .

“No...I’m talking about my dick.” He grabbed both my elbows, swinging me around like I weighed nothing, one arm holding me in place as he pressed up against my back, hips rolling so I could feel the hardness of his dick right against the swell of my ass. “ Dude’’s feeling pretty darn trapped right now. Poor thing just wants to get inside you and ruin you baby, why you making it so hard for him...?”

I elbowed him sharply, vindicated when the sharp edge of it caught something hard and fleshy. Jungkook grunted in discomfort but didn’t let go of me.

“My little hellcat. “ He bit down on the juncture between my neck and shoulder, “You know why my dick is hard?”

“To match your cold unfeeling heart?” I snapped and he moaned in mock hurt.

“Not fair baby...I have the kindest heart... Soft heart, hard dick....That’s literally my entire persona.” Jungkook nuzzled my neck .

I fought the urge to laugh .

“So why then? Because I’m within ten feet of you? Isn’t that all it takes usually?” I muttered, wincing a bit when his teeth sank in a little deeper.

Jungkook let out a soft chuckle.

“Normally I’d agree but today... I’m so fucking hard because you looked like you wanted to claw Sana’s face off when I gave her those tickets....”

I flushed.

“Well, I just don’t think I should be the only one not allowed to see you fight.”

“Or maybe you just hate the idea of any one else getting to touch my dick...because like I said...it’s got your name on it right baby?” Jungkook laughed against my ear and I blushed .

“I still think its rude that you don’t let me come to your matches.” I grumbled.

“And why do you think that is, baby? Why do you think I’m so adamant about you not being anywhere near me when I have something important to do...”

I didn’t reply, eyes fluttering shut when he suckled on the skin near my neck.

“Its because I’ll probably lose..” He growled into my ear, “ Don’t wanna get knocked out in the first round because I was too busy staring at your pretty, pretty face and delicious fucking body... My only distraction, my favorite distraction.”

I felt myself melt like an ice cream cone in the fucking sun.

“Oh, fuck you....you honey-tongued son of a bitch...” I choked out, unable to fight the wide grin that was taking over my face.

Jungkook chuckled in victory, hugging me tighter.

“So tell me.... Can I tie you up tonight? Get some of my favorite toys...Want to play in your sandbox....” He leered and I laughed despite myself. How could this man make the most innocent of phrases sound so fucking sexy....

“Only if you let me pick the toys.”

Jungkook let go of me and gently turned me around. He was frowning deeply.

“Babe you don’t even know what their called.” He complained.

“But I can gauge how much damage they’ll do and that’s more important to me.” I pointed out.

Jungkook gave me a thoughtful smile.

“Hmm....fine... But I get to offer the choices. “ He said softly.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Okay, in that case you need to let me see every single drawing you’ve made of me... right now.” I smiled.

Jungkook grinned, already grabbing my wrist and tugging me back to his desk.

“Deal...but I’m gonna need you to sit on my cock and keep it warm while I show them to you..... okay?”

I glared at him but he was already moving to the wide , comfortable chair behind the desk. He sat on the chair, manspreading and unbuckling himself before wriggling the slacks down past his waist and tugging his boxers down.

I watched him reach in to pull out his hard cock , pumping the hard length of it a couple of times before smiling at me expectantly.

“Horny bastard.” I muttered under my breath, before letting him maneuver me into his lap, fingers slipping up my skirt and tugging my panties aside , before lining himself up against my center.

“Ready baby?” He kissed my cheeks fondly and I nodded lowly. He pressed a couple of fingers against my slit, dipping in just enough to make sure I was wet enough. I wasn’t dry per se, but it still stung a bit when he drove himself in with one swift stroke.

“Oh, fuck...” I groaned when he entered me , the rock hard length of him cleaving my insides and making my tongue go dry. I clenched down on him, thighs beginning to tremble already. I gripped the edge of the table in front of me.

“Maybe I should call Sana in now.? Huh baby...that’ll show her who this dick belongs to, right , angel?” He whispered against my ear and I moaned, a gush of arousal staining my thighs at his words., Jungkook laughed knowingly, wrapping an arm around my waist to keep me still before rolling his hips gently and settling inside me.

“So baby, which ones do we start with.... Solo shots? ones with me....? There’s one of me fucking your pretty pink hole, maybe that’ll change your mind about letting me take you in the back...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : I’m stopping here because the next chapter is just like 5k of porn and I wanted it to be a standalone chapter.

Comments are love , Feedback is really appreciated. Send me your thoughts, ideas or even just scream about how hot Jungkook is....anything works.

taglist : @veronawrites @aamxxrii @brooky95

@apollukee

@ladyartemesia

@yoongisdragon

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ if you guys wanna be on the taglist just lemme know...

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook au #bts au #bts enemies to lovers #jungkook fics #jungkook reactions #bts smut #bts fics

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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years ago

Text

see? - [Reid x Reader] - Chapter 3

masterlist

previous chapter // series index // next chapter

Summary: Months after Reader left, Reid has tried to put his life back together. He’s never stopped trying to find Reader, but he may find her in the worst way possible.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k for Chapter 3

Content Warning: Normal Criminal Minds stuff. Mentions of drug addiction. This series has a villain, and he harms women. There is no s*xual assault, but there is brief talk of torture, and then the death of the victims. Spoiler: Our unsub targets pregnant women, one of the infants does not survive. Reader and her baby are fine. I don't go into detail, but if you need to skip this, I understand.

A/n: How can I ever thank you all enough for being so patient with me? That being said, this chapter does end on a cliffhanger that you probably saw coming if you read “River” by @yours-truly-r. She shared this plot with me, so this is my version. I’ll try my best not to make you wait too long for chapter 4. Chapter 3 & 4 are in Spencer’s point of view, but the remainder of the series will be in Reader’s POV.

-- Linear Progression --

(Spencer’s POV)

The night we came back from my first case with the BAU, Morgan declared that he was going to a bar near his apartment to "get lucky." When I pointed out the fact that it was almost 2 am, he had told me, "time is an illusion, Pretty Boy."

That was the first time he called me pretty boy, along with the first time I tried to explain a theoretical concept he had no interest in hearing.

He was right to a degree. The way we understand time is an illusion. Time doesn’t happen in the linear way that we as a society perceive it to. The physics of time are still widely debated, but the running hypothesis is that everything that has ever happened is still happening right now. Every single moment in time is happening all at once, and it always will be.

Morgan didn’t “get lucky” that night, but he did give me a ride back to my apartment. I think that was the beginning of our friendship; I had never been able to understand the social constructs of relationships and friendships, but I think he felt some sort of responsibility for the skinny kid with glasses who was babbling about the physics of time at 3 am.

My friendship with Derek Morgan was one of the most important of my life.

Which is why I wasn't going to murder him for banging on my door at 7 am.

“Open up, Pretty Boy!”

Grumbling, I got out of bed and padded down the hallway towards my living room where Morgan was pounding on the door so hard, I was concerned it was going to fly off its hinges.

“If you break my door, you’re gonna fix it,” I muttered out when I finally pulled the door open.

The man who was the closest thing to a brother I had just smiled at me. “I restore houses, kid. It’d be an improvement.”

Smirking, I waved him into my apartment. In the months since…Since February, Morgan had made it a habit of coming by several times a week whenever we were in town. I don’t know if the rest of the team knew he did it, I don’t know if they were as worried about me as he was, but it wouldn’t have surprised me.

“Coffee?” I asked, making my way into the kitchen.

"We'll grab some on the way," he said, flopping down on my couch. "We have a case; I told Hotch I'd swing by and get you. It's wheels up as soon as we get there and finish the briefing."

I frowned. “I didn’t get any message.”

“I know. I asked Garcia to let me wake you.” He turned his head around to look at me. “You haven’t been sleeping, kid.”

He wasn’t wrong. “It’s…I’m trying, Derek.”

I didn’t need to say it, because he knew it. Much like time, recovery isn’t a linear process. You start, you stumble, you go back, sometimes you go up then down. It’s an imperfect journey because there isn’t a finish line; addiction can’t be beaten, only beaten back.

Derek Morgan had been beside me through every step of my recovery.

Lumbering off the couch, he walked over to stand before me. “Reid, you’re doing the best you can. Everyone stumbles.”

I shook my head. “It’s different. I can…I can still see it. I can still see it all, Morgan.”

I could still see the look on Ben’s face when he found the vials of Dilaudid I had hidden all around my apartment. I could still remember the look on Hotch’s face when he told me she was gone. I could still see the anger on Garcia’s face when she refused to help me find her.

Most of all, I remember how y/n looked when I told her I would kill her, give up her precious life, for one more moment with Maeve. Every morning, right before I wake up, that memory flashes behind my eyes.

I’ve called in every favor I’m owed, reached out to every connection; no one could find her. She vanished.

I quickly realized the only way she could vanish like that is if she had help from inside the bureau, and if I had to guess, I’m sure I know who helped her. If she went to all these lengths, she didn’t want to be found, least of all by me.

"We'll find her, Spencer," Morgan said gently, pulling me from my thoughts.

He said the words to comfort me, but even he knew they weren’t true. No one would find y/n y/l/n until she wanted to be found.

Nodding my head, I made my way back towards my bedroom to get ready for the case.

Making amends is very big in the recovery process. I wanted to make amends to y/n, and while I wanted that to be in the traditional sense, I settled for a symbolic one.

I tried to make myself into the man she thought I was before that night. Every time I felt the itch crawl up my spine, I thought of her face. It didn't make the craving go away; it just made it easier to bear.

I didn’t deserve to have her back in my life, but I wanted to be someone who did.

After I had finished getting ready, I made my way over to my bedside table to pick up the coin I carried with me everywhere, running my fingers over the edges before placing it in my pocket.

Two hundred and forty-seven days sober, and each one of them was for her.

We never made it to the bullpen that morning. Hotch called and informed us that it was wheels up "immediately," and that we would debrief on the plane. Morgan and I were the last members of the team to arrive. He took a seat on the couch beside Callahan while I opted to sit at the table across from Hotch and JJ.

“Garcia is going to be out for the remainder of the week. She has the flu,” our unit chief informed us, his eyes fixed on the tablet in front of him.

Morgan toyed with his phone, no doubt trying to text his ‘baby girl’ before take-off. “Who is going to be running things from here since she’s out? Kevin?”

Hotch nodded, but I couldn’t help but notice he seemed distracted. “He’s the most familiar with Garcia’s systems.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days,” Rossi muttered just a bit too loudly, earning a mock glare from Hotch, a confused look from Kate, an eye roll from Morgan and JJ, and a soft huff of laughter from me.

“Let’s get started,” Hotch ordered, drawing all of our focus back to the present. “The Oregon State Police have requested our help.”

I couldn’t help but wrinkle my nose at the tablet in front of me, further proof Garcia wasn’t on this case. Despite how mad she was at me over Y/n, she still always accommodated my wishes for paper files.

The state police?” Morgan asked. “Not the locals?”

"No," Hotch answered, right as I brought up an image on my screen. "He's not sticking to one county."

I heard a strangled gasp from JJ, but I didn't need to look up to know why. “How many?” I asked.

“When the original request was made two women had been abducted. Both of them were pregnant, days from giving birth, and both from the same town of Silverton, Oregon. The first victim was Iris Jenkins. She was a 31-year-old woman, and she was 40 weeks and 2 days gestation when she was taken by the unsub. The M.E. estimates he held her for less than 24 hours before she died.”

��The baby?” JJ asked, her voice thick with emotion.

“He was left outside of a local hospital in Silverton. He was completely unharmed. The next intended victim is Nancy Williamson. She was abducted outside her workplace. Also 40 weeks pregnant with a boy.”

“Could that be a coincidence?”

Hotch still didn’t look up from his tablet. “It could have been before the latest victim.”

“But Nicole Williamson escaped?” Morgan asked. “That’s lucky. Did she give a description of the guy?”

“No, she said he kept her blindfolded and bound to a chair.”

That caused me to pause. "That doesn't make sense. Why would the unsub blindfold them if he plans on killing them anyway?"

Rossi spoke for the first time. “Psychological torture? Sensory deprivation?”

I thought about that as I swiped through the crime scene photos; pausing when I saw a photograph of a letter on the screen. "He makes them write letters?”

“Just the first victim and the third. The one that got away was only held for 12 hours.”

I frowned. “Is this blood? Or just red ink?”

“The first is red ink, the second letter is still being processed.”

It was obvious based on the letter spacing and how many loops were in the letters that a woman wrote this letter. Based on the contents of the letter, I could also assume she was under duress.

Hotch spoke again, pulling my focus. “Morgan, I'd like for you and JJ to drive up to Silverton. Visit Miss Williamson and ask if she's up for a cognitive interview, then visit the M.E., ask him if he remembers anything about the first victim.”

“Where was the…” JJ’s question trailed off when he got to the same image Kate’s hand had been frozen over for the last 47 seconds, the same photo that was described in the incident report that Hotch had on his screen.

My unit chief, my friend, cleared his throat before he spoke. “Kayla Whitmore was found an hour ago in Eugene, Oregon. The autopsies are already underway, and the scene is being processed.”

“The cause of death seems pretty apparent,” Morgan said with a look of disgust on his face.

"The time between this most recent kill and the last abduction is much shorter. We need to move fast," Hotch said, his voice grave. "Kate, I'd like for you to come with me to the FBI satellite office in Bend, that's where we're landing. Kayla Whitmore's credit card was used to buy gas right outside the town limits. Rossi, I'd like for you and Reid to ride out to Eugene. It should be undisturbed."

"I already don't understand this guy," Rossi muttered. "The first baby survives, the third doesn't. The second victim is blindfolded, but it doesn't appear the others were. He makes them write their own letters. Then he uses the third victim's credit card. This behavior…it's erratic."

“Is the message on the wall the same in both crime scenes?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes.”

The media hadn’t named our unsub yet, but I was sure it wouldn’t be long, especially once word of Kayla Whitmore reached the public. This type of violence always draws attention.

Rossi was moving around the room, silent, but his eyes moving rapidly over everything. “He’s a cocky son of a bitch, I’ll give him that.”

I nodded. “Do we have the original note?” One of the deputies brought over an evidence bag, inside of it was the wrinkled piece of paper. “Have we analyzed this yet?”

The man nodded. “It’s red ink, just like the last.”

"It makes sense; blood might start to coagulate and make it more difficult to work with. Rossi, come here." I called, offering him the note.

“Give justice to the weak and the fatherless; maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute. Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked,” he read. “It sounds biblical.”

“It is. It’s Psalm 82, verses 3 through 4.”

“Was the first note biblical?”

“The first victim was made to write, ‘Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them.’ That’s from Ephesians. There are similar themes in both letters.”

“So, he’s perverting the bible to fit his own fucked up narrative? How original.” The older man handed the paper back to me. “We have to find out how he’s choosing them.”

My gaze moved over to the right wall of the room. "Did the unsub leave any prints when he wrote on the wall?"

It wasn't the first message I'd seen written in blood, but I don't think it's something you ever get used to. “’Do you see this, son of man?’ could be another biblical reference. It’s Ezekiel chapter 8, verse 17. “Do you see this, son of man? Yet you will see still greater abominations than these.’”

“So, are the children abominations? Or the mothers?” The deputy said quietly.

“The mothers,” I answered. “He doesn’t harm the children. I think it must go against his…moral code.”

The deputy scoffed behind me, and I was inclined to agree; the idea that someone could do something like this and have a moral code was almost impossible to imagine.

But devils hide in plain sight all the time.

“His rage is escalating,” I pointed out.

I heard the deputy ask Rossi what that meant.

“This guy is a bum,” the man who developed the art of profiling explained. "He can't get a girlfriend, and he has this idea in his mind that it’s the women’s fault. He thinks women owe him sex, love, whatever he wants.”

I walked away from the wall, turning to face the two men. “He thinks they’re dirty, unclean. It’s why he makes them write the note. By making them say they deserved what he did to them, he’s humiliating them even after death.”

The deputy’s face was pale as he survived the scene around him. “Why does he make them leave the messages in their own blood?”

“Only one message is from them,” I replied, gesturing to the evidence bag. “The message in the blood is from the unsub.”

Before we exited the room, I turned back to that message again, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Both victims had been discovered in the exact same way. The women were naked, stabbed multiple times, but with no signs of sexual assault. They were positioned in the middle of the blood-soaked mattress, their arms spread wide.

He had left the same message on the walls of the room, written in the blood of the woman he killed.

“Do you see this, son of man? Do you see?”

“The media is calling him The Prophet.”

Rossi scoffed. “I bet it was that wet behind the ears deputy who leaked the note and told him the kid’s biblical theories.”

Rossi and I had arrived at the FBI office in Bend, Oregon about an hour ago. Kate and Hotch had already set up; JJ and Morgan were on their way back from Silverton now.

“So, what do we know about this jag-off?” Rossi questioned, staring at the evidence board.

Hotch came to stand at the head of the conference table, his eyes sharp, his voice clipped. "Reid, Dave, what did the M.E. say about the Eugene autopsies?”

"He said he suspected it was a botched c-section. Kayla was just over 40 weeks pregnant, but he said it's not uncommon for first-time mothers to go up to 42 weeks.”

“I know that’s right,” I heard JJ mutter from the speaker placed in the center of the table.

“Indicates a lack of medical knowledge,” Morgan offered. “Because we know this guy isn’t squeamish.”

I agreed with my friend but didn't comment on it; my mind already on another topic. "What's interesting is that Kayla had an anterior placenta, meaning it attached to the front of her uterus. Usually, the placenta attaches to the posterior wall, meaning it's more towards her back. Because of the unusual placement of the placenta, I think that the death of this fetus was accidental."

“It wasn’t a fetus, Reid,” Kate snapped. “It was a baby.”

I cleared my throat, meeting her angry gaze. I knew Callahan was the guardian of a young girl, and based on my years working with fellow agents who were also parents, I knew it was best not to argue about definitions and semantics. "I'm sorry, Kate," I murmured.

Her gaze softened. "It's fine. Sorry. This case is just…this is a lot." She looked down to swipe across her tablet screen. "This child was a boy too?"

I nodded. “All three of the victims were pregnant with boys.”

“So, he wants boys?”

Rossi turned to Kate. “He wants mothers of boys. Probably his way of killing his mother over and over again.”

“But how does he know the babies are boys?” JJ asked.

“So, what do they have in common?” Hotch asked. “Let’s add Nicole Williamson into the mix too, what do we have?”

“There were quotes from the bible in the two complete notes. Those specific verses are often referenced when they speak about protecting children,” I said, my eyes moving over the files. “The women were all in their 20’s. They were all at least 39 weeks pregnant, and...huh, there’s not a father named in any of the medical charts.”

“But how does he know that!” JJ huffed again in frustration.

“And are we sure this unsub is a guy?” Callahan questioned. “There was no sign of sexual assault.”

“If we follow statistics, women take babies, and men take children. With that in mind, it would be safe to assume this was a woman, but the amount of rage we’re seeing makes me think it’s a man.” I turned my back to the team, my eyes moving over the crime scene photos. "The letter was written under duress, but the language is very misogynic. Based on the information Kevin gathered about Kayla's online life, she had a normal amount of self-esteem. It's out of character that she'd talk about herself this way. By all accounts, she was excited for the baby. It's also incredibly difficult to stab someone 54 times. All the women would have fought him until the end. He'd have to be stronger to subdue her. It's a biological instinct, mothers' will stop at nothing to protect their children."

Hotch had pulled out his phone before I finished speaking, dialing Kevin Lynch to give him the criteria of the person we were searching for. "We need women in the Bend, Oregon area that are close to giving birth. There will not be fathers listed on the medical charts. She'll be at least 39 weeks into her pregnancy."

“Alright, so that would leave us with…” Kevin wasn’t able to finish his sentence before an alarm started blaring over the speaker, almost drowning out Kevin’s yelp of surprise.

“What is it?” Hotch asked. “Did something happen?”

"I…I don't know, sir," Kevin answered after he had finally gotten the alarm to quiet. "I was running the search, and…it triggered some sort of system-wide alarm. It completely locked me out of Penny’s system.”

Morgan clicked his tongue. “That doesn’t make any sense. Penelope wouldn’t set some alarm without a reason.”

“Wait. Kevin, was there any sort of message that came up when you triggered the alarm?” Hotch asked, his tone urgent.

There was a weird tension on Hotch’s face while he waited for Kevin to reply. “Yeah, uh, just a dialogue box that says ‘Nightingale.’”

“Nightingale?” Kate asked. “Isn’t that the…”

Hotch didn't reply; he hung up abruptly while Kevin was still speaking. I felt a chill run down my spine when I noticed his hands trembled slightly.

“What is it, Hotch?” Rossi asked urgently.

But he never got a chance to answer; a deputy stormed into the room. "We just got a report of an abandoned car outside of a grocery store about half a mile from here. It's registered to a young woman, and there was an empty infant car seat strapped in the back."

Hotch took the paper from him but didn't look at it. His eyes were screwed shut, and his shoulders were tense.

I heard when the voice spoke on the other end of the line. I heard the deep breath Hotch let out before he spoke.

“Penelope, I need to know where y/n is.”

----------

Permeant Taglist : @rachelxwayne @pinkdiamond1016 @sickeninglyshoujo @justagirllookingforherplace @nanocoool @andiebeaword @imjusthereformggcontent @rainsong01 @violentvulgarvolatile @mys2425 @al3xmnd @imfalling-inlove @cielo1984 @shadyladyperfection @kissingvalentino @goofygubler14 @levylovegood @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @criminalmindzjunkie @addie5264 @hopefulfangirl24 @vellichor01 @ellegreenawayapologist @mcntsee @eevee0722 @peacedolantwins2 @ashwarren32 @goldencherrymooon @pumpkin-reads @mood---board @gublersbooblers @lesbian-emilyprentiss @badkittybang @quxxnxfhxll @jessayln-jpeg

All Spencer Reid: @mediocre-writer @haihappen5 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist

See? Series taglist: @bluegoopplaidsalad @notasofti @bisoner @haylaansmi @ameliamonster @amirahroronoa @gredvb @riley-the-pan-nonbinary @solangeltorres @gwendolyn02 @sallyjacksontheweirdauthor @fangirl-nonsense @immahotmess @falcon-arrows @obsessivereaderchick @flor-sin-petalo @rexorangecouny @keomoon @hermanthewormman @sakurashortstack @criminallminds @boiled-onionrings @sierraraeck @t0xicllama @thequeerishere555 @lexiessimagination @blameitonthenight21 @abbyg217 @lil-roaster @wooya1224 @faesyl @tessa-laurel @little-blue-fishie @fandomyfangirl @youaremyfiveever @evelyncade @sunshine-ncs @maikanna @wishiwasabook @swiftingday @thelastfirerbender @alligatorrampage @notebookgirl30 @forever-a-cynical @alligatorrampage @samayoshito @readandreid @mvlanchqly @odetobeetlebum @notebookgirl30 @meowiemari @calm-and-doctor

Let me know if you’d like to be on any taglist.

#Spencer Reid #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fan fic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #Spencer reid fic #Dr Reid #Reid #Spencer Reid x y/n #Spencer Reid x you #Reader insert #Dr Spencer Reid x Reader #Reid x Reader #Spencer Reid imagine #Criminal minds imagine

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anakiinhighwalker · 2 years ago

Note

hi! can I get a star wars match up if youre still doing them?

Im a virgo sun, sagittarius moon and gemini rising, and an infp 9w1.

generally Im pretty shy and anxious, I will open up eventually but it takes a while. I do get overwhelmed sometimes and can be a little emotional. while I am introverted I do like hanging out with people and trying new things sometimes. I like helping people but I can be a bit of a pushover. I enjoy cooking, digital art, listening to music and napping.

I use he/him pronouns. my style is more alternative, Im 5'10" and Ive got piercings and tattoos and am always looking for more lol

🦫 NOW LET ME EXPLAIN. Alt s/o w Mando? That’s like so iconic imo.

Other than that. I headcanon Din to have a Capri sun…with ur Virgo moon? That’s literally a soulmate match!!! Every single match I’ve ever seen, Capri x Virgo have always pulled thru!!! I feel like you could develop your relationship w Mando to a point where mf poses some way and you know just by staring at him what he’s thinking. Silent telepathic communication and he’s not even a jedi LMFAO.

I feel like you’d really have to be comfortable with complete silence when dating Din. It’s practically a given. ALSO GROGU HAS TO LOVE U!!! LIKE GROGU HAS TO AT LEAST TOLERATE U (which will prolly b easy bc he’s an INFP too.) the fact that mando has been shown taking good care over grogu just makes me wonder abt how he will treat u (spoiler alert: it’s what u deserve pookie).

I feel like there may be issues w you being overwhelmed bc I feel like Din doesn’t get overwhelmed and when he does, he immediately resolves his emotions. Buuuut idk, I hc Din has a Pisces moon and while yes, Pisces r stereotyped to be melodramatic and all that and u might think “Mando’s not dramatic” he literally made his son chain armor and had a whole arc fighting himself bc he wanted Grogu to have fun at Jedi school. He’s very emotional in his own way. (It’s all that heavy repression). So w Din’s Pisces moon, he would just understand that. Like, he just gets you emotionally in a way not even Luke can. Add the fact that Din can read people very good and boom, your boyfriend always knows what’s going with you!!!

When u cook, Din and Grogu are your Guinea pigs for when u ever want them to taste a new recipe.

STOP!! Now imagine Din getting a tattoo with you? Or pointing at his signet and pointing at ur tattoos then pointing back at his signet then at ur tattoos? Let him have his moment.

Mando if you ever got his signet tattooed/got earrings/piercing accessories of his clan symbol.

Mando’s the confident introvert and you’re his dynamic anxious buddy who brought their drawing tablet :). Mando would ask u reluctantly if you could draw with him one afternoon and that is a core memory for Grogu. Watching Din silently contemplate what to draw before drawing a crudish Grogu? Yassss.

STOP. BECAUSE. MANDO. WOULD. ASK, THE E, ARMOR TO MAKE YOU SOMETHING SO SPECIFC YET IT WOULD RESONATE SO DEEPLY WITH YOu. I’m weak. I know I said he’s the confident introvert but the way this dude would waddle nervous to show you about like he’s a cancer sun….🤭

Very cute couple. I supprot it and I love it. (Now imagine Mando infodumping abt Mandalorian armor and culture to u when u ask him if he could show or explain u something new) also also I have an inkling Mando would wanna train you in hand to hand combat just in case. Overall? This couple is so cute Omg. I forgot to add the fact that Mando would 100% step in if people do try and treat you like a pushover. That Capri sun is NOT for show.

#star wars #din djarin #star wars matchup #star wars x reader

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mrs-han · 4 years ago

Text

Forever

@mrs-mc-han: Hiiiiii! Can I please please please request an MC who is super loud an extroverted! She doesn’t mean to or really even notice. she tends to yell when excited and use a lot of hand motions and laugh loudly. and she was never aware of it until she heard one of Jumin’s employees gossiping in the bathroom at C&R and goes to Jumin in tear apologizing for making him seem unprofessional. If you do this I will be so happy🥺🥺I love your work! Thank you💕

~~~

Gurrrl! I went through three different drafts because none of them felt right! But I finally settled on one! Here we go!

~~~

"Ow!! Don't -!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." Jumin carefully sat you up, his hand on your lower back. "I added too much pressure this time... I'm sorry, darling."

"No, don't apologize, Jumy... it's so nice of you to help me to begin with," you smiled forcibly, gripping his hand.

"It wounds me to see you in so much pain," Jumin sighed, his fingers lightly trailing over your shoulder blades. "How long do you need to rest?"

"Six weeks," you moaned, turning and burying your sulky face against Jumin's neck. "Which is impossible, by the way. What am I supposed to do for six weeks!"

"Rest, obviously," Jumin jested, poking your cheek.

"... Rest, obviously," you imitated. "I mean! What else am I gonna do? Huh? What, I can't do anything except rest?"

"Calm down," Jumin cooed, winding his arms around you. "I'll tell you what. How do you feel about coming to work with me, hm? It's remote, quiet, and you can stay in my office."

"And do nothing?" You pouted.

"I have plenty of board and card games that will keep you busy. Or, you can bring your tablet and play the games you have on there. What do you say?"

"That sounds like... a reason for you to spy on me," you smirked.

Jumin batted his eyelashes. "So what if it is?"

"That sounds like a plan," you giggled, kissing his cheek. "To coming with you to the office, not to the spying."

"Drats," Jumin said stoically, lifting you from the couch and placing you on the bed. "Did you take your medication, love?"

"I did," you blushed, realizing for the millionth time how lucky you were to be reminded. "Come here, hubby. Cuddle close."

~~~

The height of C&R's structure never failed to frighten you. You stood dumbfounded as Jumin gathered your things and grabbed your hand.

"Are you all right?" He smiled, tightening his hold.

"Did you guys expand somehow? The building looks ten times larger than when I was here last!" You smiled, throwing your arm out and flinching shortly after. "Ow! Ow..."

"Be careful," Jumin uttered, rubbing your back. "The building hasn't gotten any bigger... it seems my proposal for cat tree extension has been denied."

"You made a proposal for a cat tree extension?!" You laughed.

"Oh, look. I'm going to be late. Let's go," Jumin mumbled hastily, leading you delicately to the inside of the building.

The sights and the interior sounds were more or less the same since you had last visited. Hurried footsteps and the sound of passes that approved access mixed with the familiar smell of citrus - your senses were overtaken and overwhelmed.

"Why do you look so shocked? You were here just last week," Jumin chuckled, easing you past the security booths.

Before you could respond, you heard a familiar pair of heels making a beeline towards you. You turned and glowed as Jaehee, folders in hand, stopped and bowed towards Jumin.

"Mr. Han -"

"Jaehee!!"

She straightened and smiled as you crashed against her, hugging her. She tucked her folder under her arm and gave you a reassuring pat. "How have you been, MC? All Mr. Han talks about is how you injured your back."

"Even during meetings?! Jumin, shame on you!"

Jumin turned his head, hiding his flushed expression.

"Don't be too hard on him. It's a rarity to see how much he cares for someone other than his cat," Jaehee quipped under her breath.

"We're going," Jumin blurted, grabbing your arm and leading you to one of the many elevators.

"Yes, Mr. Han," Jaehee said quickly, fixing her glasses and her posture.

~~~

"What happened to your office?!" You shouted.

Jumin pursed his lips and blinked quickly. "I felt the need to redecorate."

You rushed into the office and threw your arms open. "Jumin, there are pictures of me everywhere!! OW!!"

"Don't strain yourself by yelling, darling."

Jaehee quickly closed Jumin's office door behind her. "Forgive my sudden intrusion towards this heartwarming conversation, but Mr. Han?"

"Ah, yes. The meeting."

"Jumin, you are -"

"Silly? Adorable? Quite the catch?" Jumin crooned, massaging your back.

You faltered and wrapped your arms firmly around him, giggling as he peppered kisses to your face.

Jumin hummed gently, his fingers curling over and into your hair. "I'll be back, my love. And when I come back, I'll give you the massage you deserve. Don't miss me too much."

"Impossible. I miss you already if only you knew -"

"Mr. Han," Jaehee spoke more pointedly.

"All right, all right." Jumin sighed, the stars in his eyes now replaced by businesslike determination.

"Be strong, my brave man," you grinned.

Jumin grabbed your hand, planted a firm kiss on your palm, and turned quickly, lest Jaehee fire another warning. You closed the door and bit hard at your lip as you observed Jumin's gallery.

Photos of you sleeping, smiling, holding Elizabeth the Third - even pictures of the highly publicized wedding day - were scattered with the finesse Jumin naturally possessed.

"I love you so much, you silly man," you said under your breath, running your fingers over his desk and finally settling yourself on his seat.

You managed to keep yourself busy for half an hour, drawing hearts on Jumin's notepad and playing a round or two of virtual Uno. Boredom was a hell of a demon, so you figured there was no harm in walking around.

Opening the door to his office, you peeked your head through and slid out. You were greeted with polite smiles and inclined heads as you walked through the floor, making you feel... oddly uncomfortable. No doubt, everyone was polite to you because they knew who you were - if you were to make one complaint, Jumin would take immediate action.

But you pushed your suspicions of trivial matters aside and smiled widely towards the ostensibly friendly employees.

Your brows furrowed, and your shoulders tensed the longer you were outside of Jumin's office. You understood what Jumin meant; that feeling of suffocation seemed to hover over your person and only caused more stress to your back as you unconsciously hunched.

You traveled to the café, desirous for some breathing air - there had to be some sense of normalcy where people ate. Still, heads turned as soon as your footfalls could be heard, and more disturbingly flashy smiles were shined your way.

Cramped and in agony, you retreated quickly to the nearest restroom, rubbed your neck, and yanked your phone out.

Hey, honey! Are you almost done?

Jumin usually answered you immediately, but his response still hadn't come your way. Pushing a stall door open, you slumped into the toilet seat and continued to try to work the knot on your back.

"Jumin, shame on you ~!"

Laughter reverberated through the restroom, and you froze in place.

"She's so tacky!"

"And so loud. Could you hear her from accounting?"

"Yes! No offense to Mr. Han, but the least he can do is put her in her place."

"Ha, no offense to Mr. Han, but he chose poorly. My daughter would be a much better candidate."

"Isn't your daughter twelve?"

"Well, Mr. Han does seem to go after those with a... childlike... disposition!"

Earsplitting laughter echoed through the room, through your ears. You pulled your knees to your chest and brought your hand to your mouth to muffle any outbursts of emotion.

"Considering how serious he is, you would assume! That he would choose a practical, serious woman!"

"Where is she from, again?"

"America, from how she behaves."

"That explains the lack of discipline."

You closed your eyes.

"How long would you give them?"

"Six months."

"Ji-Yu! That is far too generous! I give them! Three months!"

"Ladies, ladies. She can't live in a world as glamorous as Mr. Han's. They will divorce as quickly as they met. A country bumpkin will always return to the landfill they came from."

"Are we still on for dinner tonight?"

"Are you paying?"

Another bought of laughter resounded... then, silence. You stood slowly, legs shaking and back aching more than it had that morning.

You went from wanting full transparency to wanting the false reassurance of superficiality.

"So stupid," you murmured.

~~~

"What's next on the agenda," Jumin demanded as he walked straight to his office.

"A meeting at 1430 with Amorepacific," Jaehee answered, easily keeping pace with her boss.

Jumin slid his sleeve up, checking his watch. "Good, I have time to eat lunch with my wife."

"Enjoy your time with her, Mr. Han, but please be in Boardroom D ten minutes before the meeting."

"Yes, yes, fine." Jumin pushed the door open and was greeted by your swollen red eyes and dripping nose.

"Welcome back," you sniffed, forcing a smile.

Jumin's nonchalant expression immediately shifted to one of anxiety. His brows creased, his eyes grew, and he flew to your side. "Darling, what... why are you crying?"

Your voice quivered. "Can I go home?"

"Talk to me," Jumin urged, grabbing your hands. "Is your back hurting you? Did anyone try to come in?"

"No, no... I just... I want to go home," you cried, pulling your hands from Jumin's and covering your face.

"All right... all right, darling," Jumin cooed, grabbing his phone from his back pocket. "I'm calling Driver Kim right now -"

"No," You blurted. "I want to go home. Where I came from."

Jumin paused... then quickly snapped into action, carefully grabbing your chin. "Speak to me. Darling? Why are you saying these things."

"Who am I kidding, Jumin? I can't... I'm not cut out for this life. I'm not cut out for you, you...! You deserve way better than me. You need a woman who's mature, demure, graceful... that isn't me, and you'd be much better off if -"

"Stop," Jumin boomed.

"You just told me to talk to you!" you babbled.

Jumin's anxious eyes eased. "Is that what this is about?"

You closed your eyes. "I heard a gaggle of women talking while I was hiding in the bathroom... Jumin, they're right."

"Are they?" Jumin asked.

"Well... yeah, I mean... they even attacked you, saying how interested you were in childlike women..."

Jumin wiped your tears with his thumbs. "Mmhm. Complete strangers weighing in on the depth of our relationship... it never occurred to me that I should take their opinions to heart."

You hiccupped. "All I'm saying, Jumin, is... I didn't realize how ridiculous I made you look... I didn't consider it."

"What is there to consider?" Jumin asked gently. "You would rather take their words to heart over how happy you make me when you smile? How fast you make my heart beat when I see how eager you are to explore different things? How, in a sea of millions, your eyes are the only ones I will ever look for?"

Your lip quivered.

"Others will have our opinions of us, but you will always be my wife. No matter what is said, I will always come to you. I want you to realize this, that you may finally lean on me... that you will irrevocably trust that my love for you is infinite.

"... Jumin!" You sobbed, tears streaming down your eyes. "You weren't supposed to make me cry more!"

Jumin roughly tugged you in and held you fiercely, kissing the top of your head. "No more talk of you leaving me... don't go anywhere. Stay by my side, and rest assured that I will stay by yours."

"Forever?" You squeaked.

"And ever," Jumin whispered vehemently. "Ah... your back -"

"Don't you dare pull away from me, Jumin," you half-joked.

"... Ha. I wouldn't dream of it, my dear. What do you say we grab some lunch, hm? Your choice."

"Sure... fifteen more minutes like this, first," you replied, your mouth pressed against Jumin's chest.

Jumin laughed and rested his cheek atop your head. "Excellent plan."

#mystic messenger #jumin han #mein schatz #jumin x mc #Now... it bedtiem.#Happy Halloween everybody!#I'm in the Olympics way I'm jumping through hoops ~

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pines-troz · 4 years ago

Text

Weekend With The Warners: Chapter Seven

Summary: When the CEO assigns Pinky and The Brain with the important task of watching over the Warners for the weekend, Brain is prepared for any antics that the children have in store. What he didn’t take into account was forming a familial bond with the kids.

Warning: This chapter has some intimate content between the mice, but nothing lewd or explicit.

Word Count: 4,895

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27849962/chapters/72272373

Ten minutes had passed and Brain was starting to grow impatient. The mouse was exhausted after a long and busy day tending to the needs of the Warners and all he wanted was to relax in the comfortable queen bed. Whatever Pinky was planning had better be the surprise of the century.

The grunts from the bathroom ceased and were quickly replaced with the soft pitter-pattering of Pinky’s feet.

“Okay Brain!” Pinky chirped from the floor while bouncing up and down. “It’s ready!”

Brain rubbed his eyes and forced himself to get out of the comfortable bed. “This surprise of yours better be worth the wait,” He mentioned. As he pondered about what exactly Pinky had in store in the bathroom, he raised an eyebrow when he addressed another issue. “And sanitary as well.”

Once Brain landed on the floor, Pinky gently took his paw and led them down a trail of rose petals towards the bathroom. The chubby mouse was admittedly impressed with Pinky’s keen eye in regards to tasteful displays of romance. He assumed that Pinky must have made a few additional purchases with the golden credit card while on his shopping spree with Yakko and Wakko.

When they entered the dimly-lit restroom, Pinky swiftly scooped Brain up in his arms, causing the smaller mouse to let out a short gasp. The lanky mouse carried his partner bridal style towards the tape measure. With a swift kick, they ascended their makeshift elevator and arrived on the counter. The moment Pinky stepped off the tape measure, Brain couldn’t believe his eyes.

In between the sinks, there was a white cereal bowl filled to the brim with hot water, surrounded by rose petals and the wafting aroma of vanilla-scented air-fresheners.

“Poit! I almost forgot about the bubbles,” Pinky said as he gently lowered Brain onto the counter. The taller mouse ran over to the Alka Seltzer box and retrieved two tablets. Heaving the small tablets over his head, he dropped them straight into the tub. Within seconds, the bathwater was coated with large bubbles. “I just love the bubbles!” Pinky gushed as he hugged himself.

Brain stared at the tub in astonishment. Pinky took the time to prepare a nice bath he intended to share with him. It was a particularly nice way to wind down after a long and busy day.

The taller mouse looked over at Brain and dramatically presented his jazz hands. “Ta-Da!!”

Brain looked into his partner’s twinkling blue eyes. “You did all this…for me?” He softly inquired.

“Well, of course, Brain!” Pinky replied. “You must be tired after such a hectic day. So I decided to draw us a bath. Zort!”

The taller mouse picked up an empty box of animal crackers and placed it in front of the cereal bowl as a makeshift step ladder to access the tub. “I was originally gonna buy scented candles, but Yakko reminded me of the hotel’s no-candle policy.”

Brain was stunned that Pinky would take the time and effort to prepare such a marvelous display of intimacy.

“Why Pinky, I’m impressed by this romantic gesture.” Brain complimented.

“Looks like my years of watching soap operas and romantic comedies have finally paid off! Zort!” Pinky said confidently.

“Indeed it did.” Brain agreed. He looked over at Pinky and felt a pang of guilt. Pinky went through all this effort for him and Brain was initially skeptical of what his partner had in store for him. Pinky was simply too good for him.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this.” Brain muttered.

Pinky’s ears perked upwards when he heard Brain doubt himself. The taller mouse marched over to his partner’s side. With his arms crossed, he stared down the smaller mouse with a hardened frown. “Brain, now what did Dr. Scratchinsniff say to you about having a self-deprecating outlook on things?” He gently reprimanded.

Brain looked into Pinky’s hardened stare and sighed. He was still working on improving his sense of self. Years of being fodder for science at Acme Labs combined with the countless failed schemes to take over the world had drilled the terrible idea that Brain didn’t deserve anything good and decent in this world, which stemmed from the conditioning from the traumatic experiment during his youth. But Pinky proved him otherwise. He still stood by his side all these years and supported him and was more than willing to give affection. And with the additional help from his therapist, Brain was working on bolstering his self-esteem and learning to love himself.

“You’re right, Pinky. I deserve nice things.” Brain softly admitted.

“Yes, you do!” Pinky exclaimed. His goofy smile returned as he pulled Brain into a hug, nuzzling his cheek. Once they broke apart from the embrace, Pinky stared at him with sultry eyes. “Now why don’t you hop in the tub, where we can relax and admire each other.”

Brian lightly chuckled at his partner’s innuendo. Oh, he looked forward to admiring Pinky all right. The Warners were already fast asleep, so there was no issue with the two of them spending some alone time together, doing some rather adult activities.

“Yes Pinky, there’s nothing I want more than to admire you all night long…” Brain said in a husky voice, trying his best to sound flirty. Pinky’s cheeks turned pink at Brain’s suggestive comment and pressed his paws to conceal his blush.

The smaller mouse carefully took off his plush robe, folded it, and placed it next to the towels. He climbed up the animal cracker box, approaching the edge of the tub. He dipped his toe in the water and was content that it was a suitable temperature. Hot, but not boiling. Brain slowly entered the tub and submerged himself into the heated water. He closed his eyes and let out a blissful sigh. The hot water soaked through his ivory coat, soothing his tired muscles. After tending to the kids’ needs for the past two days, it was truly rewarding to be soaked in a hot bath lovingly prepared by his partner.

“Ah, sweet euphoria.” Brain said.

“Oh Braaain!” Pinky sang.

The pudgy mouse opened his eyes and turned to Pinky, who flirtily batted his eyes. Brain noticed that Pinky purposefully exposed his right shoulder from the purple robe. The lanky mouse loosened the belt of his robe, swiftly yanked it off, and tossed it over to the side. With a seductive smile, Pinky dropped the robe onto the floor. Now only wearing his white fur, he placed his hands on his hips as he strutted over towards the tub.

Brain couldn’t help but stare with saucer-sized eyes as he watched Pinky flirtatiously swish his hips, humming seductively. “Yeeesss!!” The eloquent mouse cried out.

Pinky giggled as he looked at his awe-struck lover. As he ascended the makeshift step ladder, he accidentally tripped over his foot. Pinky waved his arms around in a feeble attempt to maintain his balance, but to no avail as he plunged into the water with a tremendous splash.

Brain’s eyes widened with alarm. “Pinky!” He shouted, thrusting his arms through the bubbled water to get his grip on his partner so he could pull him up. Fortunately, the taller mouse broke through the surface with a silly grin and his hair shielding his eyesight.

“Oh, what a rush!” Pinky guffawed as he lifted up his hair tufts, his blue eyes gleaming with joy.

Brain was overcome with relief that Pinky wasn’t seriously hurt from his fall. The smaller mouse placed his hands over his beau’s right hand, giving a gentle squeeze. “Please don’t scare me like that again.”

“I won’t,” Pinky reassured as he gently placed his left paw on Brain’s shoulder. But the taller mouse immediately noticed how stiff it was and became concerned. “Oh dear,” He muttered. “I guess watching the little kiddies has worn you out?”

“Yes,” Brain admitted. “While I certainly made many treasured memories bonding with the kids, it really did a number on my physical state.”

With a gentle hand, Pinky tilted Brain’s chin upwards and gazed into his precious pink eyes. “Not to worry Brain, I know how to help.”

Brain smiled gratefully at his lanky partner. Pinky was more than ready to shower his affection. Fortunately, the lanky mouse prided himself on being a skilled masseuse, well-versed in different techniques.

Pinky brought himself closer to Brain’s side. With gentle arms, Pinky grabbed his partner’s waist and hoisted him onto his lap. The lanky mouse let his hands travel over to Brain’s soft belly, and he couldn’t help but playfully squish the folds of his fur. “Oh Brain, I just love your jiggly-wiggly tummy-tum!”

Brain became a flustered, insecure mess at the mere mention of his potbelly and immediately yanked Pinky’s hands away. “Pinky, stop this foolishness at once.” He commanded, trying to conceal his self-consciousness over the one part of his body he saw as a blemish.

Feeling guilty, Pinky pulled Brain closer and rested his chin underneath his chubby head. “Poit! I’m sorry Brain. But I love your tummy just as much as I love every part of you!” The eccentric mouse reassured as he placed his hands on the smaller mouse’s shoulders.

“I know…” Brain admitted. He couldn’t bother to protest his partner, who only saw the beauty of everything, including his rotund belly.

Pinky began to massage Brain’s shoulders. The eloquent mouse felt at ease as he allowed his partner to gently caress him. With deft hands, Pinky carefully applied an appropriate amount of pressure onto Brain’s shoulders. While working on his shoulders, Pinky peppered small kisses on the top of Brain’s head.

Brain eased into the taller mouse’s hold and began to ponder. How could someone like Pinky, who likes to suck on his toes and watch those dreaded finger puppet videos on YouTube, be so knowledgeable in romantic manners such as this?

The lanky mouse then let go and focused his attention on Brain’s chubby head. Gently placing his hands on his partner’s large cranium, he carefully kneaded his fingers in a soothing motion.

Brain blissfully sighed as he felt Pinky’s tender paws work their magic. He always loved when Pinky massaged his head. The small mouse prided himself in his intellect, but his normally dim-witted partner knew exactly how to care for his abnormally large head. He closed his eyes as he felt Pinky’s fingers carefully caress through his fur. Such dexterity! What careful precision!

“Yeeesss!!!” He exclaimed.

Pinky smiled. He was glad to see Brain so happy after a long weekend. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Brain. After watching the kiddies all weekend, it’s nice to relax in a nice bath.” He remarked.

Brain opened his eyes the moment Pinky mentioned the Warners. “Yes, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.” He said as he carefully got off Pinky’s lap and moved over to face him.

“I’ve been pondering a lot about parenthood.” The eloquent mouse began. “I’m sure you recall the fond memories we had with Roman.”

“Oh, watching our little Romy grow up was the best two weeks of my life!” Pinky crowed. “We should give him a call tomorrow night! I bet he’s doing wonderful with his career in ventriloquism.”

“Absolutely.” Brain concurred. It’s been a while since they last conversed with their cloned son, and he was curious to hear how Romy would react to his and Pinky’s weekend shenanigans with the toon kids.

“Oh, what I’d give to be a parent again.” Pinky sighed, his eyes gleaming with nostalgia and desire.

Brain smiled, fully understanding his partner’s sentiment. He placed a paw on Pinky’s cheek, turning his head to face him. “Perhaps we could become fathers once more, dear Pinky.”

Pinky’s eyes widened with excitement while he instinctively held Brain’s hand, which still rested on his cheek. He never thought that he would have more kids, after Romy and that brief time watching over that adorable alien baby. But balancing a family and a career proved to be too much of a challenge. But now that Brain was feeling more and more sure of himself after seeking professional help and their blossoming romantic relationship, the lanky mouse was eager to hear what Brain had to say.

“Really Brain?” Pinky asked enthusiastically. Brain nodded as he carefully retracted his hand from his partner’s cheek and opted to hold his hand instead.

“When we first accepted the babysitting job from the CEO, I initially did not think much of it, besides an obstacle that interrupted my plans for world domination. But after spending some time with the Warners, I found myself growing emotionally attached to the children. And, much to my surprise, they seem to reciprocate those feelings.”

“I know Wakko and Dot are on board!” Pinky eagerly interjected. But a small frown slowly crossed his face. “Poit. Although Yakko was having trouble seeing us as parent material since he’s been looking after his siblings for so long without any help.”

Brain pondered as he looked over to the slowly dispersing bath bubbles. “I can understand why he would feel that way…” The mouse returned his gaze at Pinky, who stared at him with a worried expression. “However, I believe that Yakko will eventually warm up to us after some time.”

“You really think so?” Pinky softly inquired, his voice filled with hope.

Brain gave his partner a confident nod. “I’m certain of it.”

If the Warners still wanted to have him and Pinky around after the weekend, then he would be able to provide them with parental affection. If it came down to being a mere lab mouse or the guardian of three wacky children, then Brain would be more than happy to leave his days at Acme Labs behind.

Brain looked back at his beau. “You know, Pinky. I think I’m ready to get back on the saddle again.”

Pinky’s eyes lit up. “Oh, goodie!” He clapped, but then a sad frown crossed his face. “Oh, but wait! No, no…”

Brain’s ears drooped, feeling crestfallen by Pinky’s sudden refusal. He showered unconditional love to the Warners, even gushing over becoming a parent again. What was going on in that strange head of his?

“What is it?” Brain asked worriedly.

“I forgot my saddle at the lab,” Pinky explained forlornly. “Had I known that you wanted to play horsie over the weekend, then I would have had it packed in my suitcase.” But the mouse’s eyes widened when he thought of something and gave Brain a flirty smile. “Although, we could make it work without a saddle!”

Brain blushed furiously as he massaged his forehead. “I wasn’t referring to one of our roleplaying sessions, Pinky!” He splashed his hand into the water to get his partner’s attention. “I was talking about becoming a father again!”

“Ohh…” Pinky muttered in realization. But then he became excited by Brain’s admission. “You really want to be a dad again!?”

“Absolutely,” Brain replied. “Not to mention how Wakko and Dot already referred to us as their fathers. But the more I think about it, there are several benefits to adopting the Warners.”

“Like what?” Pinky eagerly inquired.

“Well, for one thing, we would no longer have to reside in the lab and go through the rigorous experiments that take a tremendous toll on our physical and emotional well-being.” Brain explained. “Granted, the only downside is that the water tower doesn’t have the necessary lab equipment or other resources to aid my quest for world domination, but I’ll figure something out.”

Pinky’s eyes lit up at the idea of moving into the water tower. “You mean I can finally live out my dreams of being a homemaker?”

“Absolutely, dear Pinky.” Brain fondly replied, his ears contentedly flattened. “And we can apply the lessons we learned from raising Roman to the Warners. I won’t make any attempts to force my desire of world domination onto the kids, and you won’t overly smother them with affection.”

“I can’t make any promises, but I’ll try my best,” Pinky mentioned. “Oh! And Romy can finally have younger siblings to play with! Narf! And the four of them will have such a fun-fun, silly-willy time together!”

Brain chuckled. He had to admit that they were getting ahead of themselves, pondering over the possibilities of returning to fatherhood. Of course, it all came down to whether the Warners wanted to have them back in their lives, and the consensus is that they have a two-out-of-three approval rating. But the smaller mouse was desperate to make sure that everyone was on board before making any life-changing decisions.

The small mouse cleared his throat. “Tell you what, we’ll take the kids out for a nice brunch at a fancy restaurant, and then spend the afternoon at the park.” He explained while rubbing the back of his head. “But before we return to the Warner movie lot, we’ll ask the children how they feel about being adopted. And, if they say yes, then we’ll kiss Acme Labs goodbye and start a new home with the Warners!”

Pinky’s blue eyes glistened with joy. “Egad, brilliant Brain!” He cheered, clasping his paws together and letting out a contented sigh. “But do we have to kiss the lab?”

Brian rolled his eyes at his partner’s ludicrous statement. “No Pinky, that’s just a figure of speech.”

“Ohh,” Pinky uttered.

Brain allowed himself to smile at his clueless partner. “You know, I’m actually glad that we took this babysitting gig this weekend, Pinky.” He said as he moved closer to Pinky with the intention of giving him a passionate kiss.

“Me too.” Pinky agreed. Pinky leaned closer to Brain, who had his eyes closed in preparation to lock lips with his partner. But before Pinky could seal the deal, he remembered something incredibly important he wanted to share.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Pinky exclaimed, startling Brain.

“About what?” The smaller mouse inquired.

“Since we were talking about saddles earlier, we should buy one of those dad saddles for the man-suit and we could take turns riding the kids around as they pretend to be cowboys and pirates! Narf!”

“Pinky, I am not stooping so low as to purchase a degrading joke toy that would chip away at my dignity!” Brain argued.

“But just imagine how much fun the kids would have! And since we would be giving them horse rides with the suit, we wouldn’t have to worry about back pain, and-”

In an effort to shut Pinky up, Brain propped himself across his partner’s lap, cupped his face, and proceeded to kiss him. Pinky’s eyes widened in surprise. Normally he would be the one to make the first move. But in a subversive turn of events, Brain was the one initiating the intimate moment. Pinky closed his eyes and savored the kiss.

Once they parted lips, Pinky saw Brain’s cheeks flushed. The lanky mouse smiled warmly at his pudgy partner, gazing into his pretty pink eyes. He leaned in, kissing his partner back.

Pinky tenderly placed his paw on the smaller mouse’s right cheek as their lips collided. Brain immediately wrapped his arms around Pinky’s neck, bring himself closer. Feeling rather frisky, Brain inserted his tongue into Pinky’s mouth, causing his partner to elicit a contented moan.

Both mice were in bliss.

But the intimate moment was broken the moment they heard the door open. The couple broke away from their kiss and turned around, only to find Wakko waiting by the doorway and staring at them with wide eyes.

The mice and the middle child proceed to scream at each other.

Wakko pointed at the mice as he stared at the terrifying sight of two grown-ups doing very grown-up things. Brain clung onto Pinky’s chest, while the taller mouse grabbed a handful of bubbles to cover his modesty, not taking into account that the bubbles were now roughly the size of his fingertips.

Just when things couldn’t possibly get any worse for the mice, they heard a pair of shuffling feet approaching the doorway.

“Wakko, what’s wrong?” Yakko asked as he rushed towards his sibling’s side with Dot following his trail. But the eldest sibling was surprised to see the mice sharing a tub together. “Woah there!” He exclaimed in a disbelieving smile.

The mice stared at the three children like deer in headlights. Brain felt his cheeks burn at the thought of Yakko constantly bringing up this moment in private conversations (though Yakko was a chatterbox, he would never intentionally spread malicious gossip about his co-workers). The mortified mouse was never going to hear the end of it!

Dot also appeared by the doorway and was immediately overjoyed by what she saw. “Aww, you two are sharing a romantic moment together!” She inquired, her eyes sparkling like gemstones.

Before Brain could make a sardonic response, Pinky lifted his hands and gathered another small pile of bubbles. “No, we weren’t!” He lied with a nervous chuckle. “We were just having a foam party!”

“A foam party? Well how come we weren’t invited?” Wakko questioned, feeling a little sad at the thought of being left out of a fun party.

“Oh dear,” Pinky mumbled, for he didn’t think this through. Snapping his fingers, he came up with a fib on the fly. “Well, this foam party is exclusive, and uh, only adult mice are allowed! Troz!” He explained while flashing a guilty smile. Brain smacked his paw against his forehead and groaned.

Dot knew that Pinky was lying, but couldn’t help but joke. “Well, shame on the party planners for holding such segregationist attitudes.” She replied, feigning offense.

Yakko smirked at the two mice. “So, what kinda party games were you two playing? Seven minutes in heaven?” He inquired with bouncing eyebrows.

“As a matter of fact, we were.” Brain retorted. He turned his direction over to the middle child, seeing that their overreaction alerted their siblings, which led to this awkward and mortifying mess. “So Wakko, is there anything you need?”

“I only need to use the potty,” Wakko answered their older brother’s question before turning his attention back to the mice. “But I can wait if you need some extra time alone.”

The mice exchanged worried looks and decided to put an end to their romantic time in the tub.

“There’s no need for you to wait on our behalf,” Brain assured as he quickly emerged from the makeshift tub. “Just give us a moment to leave and we will allow you to do your business.”

The moment Brain stepped off of the animal cracker box, he noticed how sopping wet his fur was. Pinky quickly followed as he hastily exited the tub and tripped onto the counter. Brain took a towel and wrapped it around his waist, while Pinky wrapped his towel around his chest. The smaller mouse retrieved the plush robes and grasped his partner’s hand. Dot offered her hands out and the mice quickly jumped onto her palms. Once she carried the beaus from the bathroom, Wakko immediately ran in and slammed the door shut.

After a moment, Yakko was the first to break into a fit of laughter. He collapsed on the bed, kicking his legs and clutching his stomach as cackled. Dot and Pinky couldn’t help but join in as well while Brain stood in her palm with an irate frown.

“This is most undignified.” He grumbled.

“Aw Brain,” Pinky comforted as he pulled his partner into a side hug. “You have to admit, that was pretty funny!”

At this point, Yakko’s laughter had died down and after hearing Brain’s complaint, he felt a little sorry for unexpectedly invading their personal space.

“Hey now, we didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” Yakko assured.

“Even if you two looked adorable in your moment of intimacy.” Dot added.

At that moment, they heard the toilet flush and the sink going off. Brain was thankful that Wakko had the decency to wash their hands. The bathroom door swung open and Wakko leaped onto the bed, joining their siblings.

“I’m sorry for interrupting your foam party…” Wakko apologized in earnest.

“Not to worry dear!” Pinky acknowledged.

Despite his embarrassment, Brain couldn’t help but smile at the middle child’s sincerity. “There’s no need for you to apologize, Wakko. Pinky and I should have been more thoughtful about using the bathroom for our own selfish purposes.”

“Like making out?” Yakko asked with a mischievous grin.

“Yes, always.” Brain responded sarcastically with flushed cheeks. “Now Dot, would you be so kind as to put Pinky and me back in our beds?”

Dot wordlessly nodded and gently placed the mice back on their mattress.

Brain turned over to the three children. “Now I want you all to get some sleep. Pinky and I are going to be taking you out to an exquisite brunch tomorrow morning and I expect you all to get up at a decent hour.”

“Okay!” The Warners chorused.

Brain nodded, pleased that the rambunctious children understood the game plan for the following day. He and Pinky tossed aside their towels and dressed in their plush robes. Once the mice were comfortable, they tucked themselves under the covers. Wakko leaned over the nightstand and turned off the light once more.

Brain laid awake. Even after such a romantic moment spent with Pinky, only to be accidentally spoiled by the Warners, it was going to be difficult to fall asleep after that incident.

On the other mattress, Yakko himself was also having trouble trying to sleep. Nights were usually the hardest for the teen because he had a lot on his mind. The well-being of his siblings, the state of his career, the very nature of his existence as a toon. It was a lot for a youngster like him to take in, even if he had been the same age for decades. He wished that there was something to take his mind off of such dreadful topics.

“Hey Brain,” He heard Wakko loudly whisper. “Are you up.”

“Yes,” The mouse groggily answered. “Is there anything you need?”

“Well,” Wakko began, sounding rather sheepish. “Could you sing me to sleep? I can’t go to sleep and I don’t wanna wake Yakko up.”

Yakko was stunned to hear his sibling be considerate of his feelings. Yakko wanted to swoop in and tend to Wakko’s needs, but he tossed that idea aside because he wanted to see where this situation was going.

“Very well. I’ll make sure it’s extra boring so you could fall asleep faster.” Brain humored.

“Yes!” Dot quietly interjected.

Yakko was surprised to hear his little sister pipe up. Usually, she was out like a light within ten minutes. He supposed that Dot was curious to hear Brain singing once more. And the oldest Warner couldn’t blame her. He too was interested in hearing the usually serious mouse lull his siblings to sleep.

Brain knew one particular song that would do the trick. Although the tune of ‘Camptown Races’ wasn’t the typical song one would use for a lullaby (Brain had a strong preference for Brahms’s ‘Wiegenlied’), he knew that his own set of lyrics would make Wakko and Dot fall asleep.

“Pinky, would you care to join me as I sing about the parts of the brain?”

“Narf! Absolutely!” The lanky mouse cheered, a bit too loudly for his partner’s liking.

Brain tugged at Pinky’s ear. “Now I understand your enthusiasm, Pinky, but the objective is to lull the little tykes to sleep.” He commanded in a hushed voice.

Fortunately, Pinky seemed to understand. “Right-o!” He whispered.

Brain began to hum the opening melody to ‘Camptown Races’ to get into the mood before singing about the various parts that make up the human brain.

Neo-cortex, frontal lobe. Brainstem! Brainstem!

Hippocampus, neural node. Right hemisphere.

Pons and cortex visual. Brainstem! Brainstem!

Sylvian fissure, pineal. Left hemisphere.

Cerebellum left! Cerebellum right!

Synapse, hypothalamus, Striatum, dendrite.

As the Brain hummed the chorus, Wakko and Dot were entranced by the mouse’s soothing voice. Even Yakko was starting to feel tired. He struggled to keep his eyelids open as he heard the eloquent mouse’s little ditty.

Axon fibers, matter gray. Brainstem! Brainstem!

Central tegmental pathway. Temporal lobe.

White core matter, forebrain, skull. Brainstem! Brainstem!

Central fissure, cord spinal. Parietal.

Pia mater! Meningeal vein! Medulla oblongata and lobe limbic.

Micro-electrodes…Naaarf!

The Brain!!!

Once the mice finished their quiet rendition of ‘Brainstem’, they were pleased to hear three distinct snores coming from the other bed.

Brain smiled, satisfied that his little tune did the trick. “That ought to keep the little squirts happy.” He said smugly.

He turned over to see Pinky quietly clapping with that big silly grin of his. “Egad, Brain! Brilliant!” He whispered, trying very hard to contain his enthusiasm under control.

“Yes, Pinky. Perhaps it’s time that we turn in, so to speak.” Brain mentioned.

“Into what?” Pinky asked, but then figured out an answer right away. “Oh, are we gonna turn into a big spoon and little spoon?”

“Yes, we are, Pinky.” Brain answered. Despite their romantic moment in the makeshift tub was unintentionally spoiled, he was certain that he and Pinky can still share some more intimacy together in the bed without worrying about the curious eyes of the Warners. “But on one condition.”

“What’s that, Brain?”

“I get to be the big spoon.”

AN: Hey y’all! Here is a little romantic chapter for Valentine’s Day weekend! I wanted to have a Brinky-centric chapter, but I was initially worried about this chapter being too risque and out of place, but my friend @shuunthenonbeliever (cheeserollcall on AO3) mentioned that it would make sense for Pinky and Brain to want to spend some alone time together to do some intimate couples things (and the ‘foam party’ explanation Pinky gives was also borrowed from shuun)

The tub sharing was based off of two issues in the Pinky and The Brain comics. From Issue #19 the AWPWIP exchange where Pinky replies “I think so Brain! You draw the bath and I’ll fetch the Alka-Seltzers and candles.” to which Brain responds “Maybe later, Pinky.”, as well as the moment from Issue #26 where Brain closes his eyes while taking a bath. Pinky leans in as if he’s about to kiss him, Brain opens his eyes, and they both scream. Brain yells “What are you looking at?!”, Pinky responds “I’m not looking, I’m admiring” whilst staring at him with sultry eyes, and Brain replies “Oh, that’s reassuring!”

The moment where Brain goes a little further with his kiss was inspired by the clip of Rob Paulsen and Maurice LaMarche attending a convention, and Rob yelling “Egad, Brain! Put your tongue in my mouth!”

The moment where Pinky tries to lie about having a bath by saying it was a foam party was borrowed from my friend shuun over on discord.

I was having trouble coming up with a lullaby and was originally gonna use the Brownian Motion lullaby Brain sings in the reboot, but I thought it was too short. So I decided to have him and Pinky sing a quieter rendition of Brainstem because it’s longer and has more sciency words.

The next chapter will feature some more mice and Warners bonding, and some major angst, so I’ll do my best to finish it as soon as possible.

Thanks for reading!

#animaniacs #pinky and the brain #patb #fanfiction #brain #pinky #yakko warner #wakko warner #dot warner

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iam93percentstardust · 4 years ago

Note

For your prompt requests - SteveTony - Steve is Tony's bodyguard 💗

Fair warning, Tony is a bit of an asshole in this one because I think it probably took him some time to become a nicer person, even after Afghanistan

Also on ao3 here

It’s after the third assassin that Tony thinks something might be going on.

Kidnapping, assassination attempts, they’re all part and parcel of being a high profile, multi-billionaire who used to be the Army’s number one defense contractor. But he’s pretty sure that three attempts on his life in two weeks is a little high, even for someone like him who was named People’s Most Eligible Kidnappee three years in a row. Stupid Bruce making stupid comments to stupid reporters about how many times he gets stupidly kidnapped.

“What does Bruce know?” he grumbles. “He lives in stupid Gotham.”

He glances down at the latest would-be killer, knocked out by DUM-E with his favorite fire extinguisher, and nudges him with the toe of his shoe. “You’re not dead, are you? Cause that’s a lot of paperwork to fill out if you are and I think we all know how I feel about that.”

The assassin groans and twitches.

DUM-E helpfully sprays him with the fire extinguisher again.

Tony snickers and calls for Happy to come grab the assassin and haul him off to jail probably. Now that he’s thinking about it, it’s probably good that Pepper isn’t his Head of Security. She’s not nearly as nice as Happy is.

“Come on, Hap, you’re falling down on the job here,” he chides as Happy throws the guy over his shoulder. “You’re supposed to be the Head of Security. You’re not doing much securiting—securitizing—”

“Securing,” Happy says. “And you transferred me to Miss Potts a month ago.”

“Oh yeah.” He pouts for a moment. “Why did I do that?”

“Because you were trying to draw out Mr. Stane.”

“Right,” he says, mood falling. He’d forgotten about Obie—Obadiah—Stane. Doesn’t know how, it’s not like Stane was arrested only two weeks ago or anything. “Come on, Tony,” he mutters. That two weeks is sticking out in his mind for some reason. Two…weeks…two weeks. “Pull your head out of your ass. J?”

“Sir?”

“Am I right in thinking that the first assassin was two weeks ago?”

“Exactly thirteen days.”

“Right. And Stane was arrested when?”

“Court records show he was arrested fifteen days ago.”

He nods to himself. Two days between Stane’s arrest and the first assassin showing up. He’d be willing to be that that’s enough time both for Stane to put out a hit on him and for word to get around.

“Put in a call to our favorite SHIELD director, would you, J?” he asks.

He doesn’t hear the phone ringing—JARVIS would never be as common as that—but it’s still a good thirty seconds before he hears Nick Fury demand, “How did you get this number?”

“So you remember when you arrested Stane and you said the Ten Rings might have only been the beginning?” he asks without bothering to introduce himself. There’s a reason his nametag at conferences says You Know Who I Am instead of his actual name. Everyone knows who he is, especially the director of a major spy agency that Tony’s dad helped found.

Fury’s silent for a moment. “How many assassins?” he asks eventually.

This is why Tony likes him. No nonsense, no frills, just a straight-up question. “Three so far.”

“And I’ll bet more are on the way,” Fury says grimly. Tony doesn’t bother agreeing. They both know Fury’s right. “I’m sending an agent to you.”

“What? No, absolutely not,” he protests. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Clearly you do.”

“No,” he says stubbornly. “I’ll just send them back.”

“You do that. Send back as many agents as you like. And I’ll keep sending more until you stop. Hopefully, you won’t be dead by then.”

Tony scowls and hangs up.

He rejects the first agent just on principle. He refuses to have anyone who looks as boring as Agent Coulson does anywhere around him.

He rejects the second one after two days because he’s pretty sure she’s sending information about him back to Fury. He’s already had one gorgeous lady steal corporate secrets from him. He doesn’t need Natasha Romanoff doing the same thing almost fifteen years later.

He actually likes Agent Barton but Pepper takes one look at him and flatly says, “No.”

“Aww why not?” Clint whines.

“I have enough to deal with. I don’t need you encouraging Tony to blow up the house on top of it.”

Yeah, that’s probably fair.

The fourth one, unlike the other agents Fury has sent, is actually already in his house by the time Tony gets back after his dinner with Rhodey. “Security breach! That’s on you,” he says snidely to Pepper who’s standing beside the man, explaining the Jackson Pollock painting in front of them, the one that Tony thinks looks like a mess but Pepper is enthralled by.

“Tony!” Pepper says with that smile that tells him to behave. “This is Agent Rogers. SHIELD sent him.”

Tony glances at him and then narrows his eyes. He points at him with the stylus of the tablet he’d been using. “I know you. Why do I know you?” he asks.

Agent Rogers blushes—pretty blush, Tony notes absently—but valiantly says, “I was on the team that rescued you in Afghanistan.”

Oh yeah. Now he remembers that insane shoulder-to-waist ratio. “That’s right. You were the one with the shield.” And the one who had picked him back up after Yinsen had been hit but he doesn’t like to think about that. “The new Captain America.”

“That’s me,” Rogers agrees.

“Fury ever tell you Howard used to work with the last one? About broke his heart when he found the guy frozen to death.”

“Tony!” Pepper snaps.

He winces. He swears he’s trying to be a better person, even if he doesn’t always succeed. “Sorry. That was insensitive, wasn’t it?”

Rogers opens his mouth but Pepper beats him to it. “Yes, it was.”

“Sorry,” he mutters again. “I’m trying.”

Pepper just glares at him but Rogers’ face softens. “Steve Rogers, sir,” he says, holding out his hand.

Tony glances at it and shoves his own into his pocket. “Yeah, I don’t like to be handed things.”

To his credit, Rogers doesn’t even hesitate, just says, “Alright then. Any questions for me?”

“Star Wars or Star Trek?” he says immediately.

“Well, they’re not really comparable, are they?” Rogers says without missing a beat. “Just because they both have ‘star’ in the name doesn’t mean they’re related to each other.”

“They’re both set in space,” Tony points out but inwardly he’s delighted. He would have accepted Star Trek as an answer but this is better than he could have hoped for.

Rogers doesn’t look impressed. “One of them is about science and exploration and the other is about imperialism and war. They’re not the same.”

Tony grins and tells Pepper, “I think we’re going to get along just fine.” He turns back to Rogers. “Tony Stark but everyone calls me Tony. Except for Pepper. She calls me ‘What did I do to deserve this?’”

Rogers laughs, a bright smile lighting up his gorgeous face. Tony tells himself that his heart doesn’t flutter but it resolutely does anyway, that traitor. “Steve Rogers but everyone calls me Steve. Except for my best friend. He calls me a punk.”

“Are you?”

“Absolutely. Doesn’t mean he’s gotta be a jerk about it.”

A slowly dawning look of horror is spreading across Pepper’s face and he thinks she might be realizing that Steve is probably gonna be even worse than Barton was. Too bad. She’s the one who sent him away.

“Steve,” Tony says. “Welcome to the team.”

“Pleasure to be working with you, Tony.”

#alle writes #alle answers #tony stark #pre-relationship #if you like please consider reblogging #missmoodybear

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jenovahh · 3 years ago

Text

The Honey Pot - Ch. 19 - Tender

“Cid and I only want to help you, you know.”

It is almost noon, the sun high in the sky, but the day is surprisingly cool due to autumn beginning to settle in. Estinien is a furnace unto himself, your fingers trailing across the bare skin of his torso, drawing lazy patterns on toned muscle, your fingers tickling his abs. Held close like this in the aftermath of your coupling, you find that this tenderness is what you crave, and despite it being right in front of you, you cannot have it.

“I know.” You sigh, tucking your face into his neck, breathing him in.

“But…?” Estinien prompts, clearly not willing to let you weasel out of this.

“But...” You whimper, pressing a gentle kiss to his jaw, gripping him tighter, your nude form pressed snugly against his own. What could you say that would keep you out of Varis’ sights? Keep Cid out of his sights? Your choker feels like a brand against your skin. “If you are so smart, how would you help me? I doubt you could come up with a plan to stop anything Varis can do.” You smile bitterly, tears in the corner of your eyes at the despair you feel.

Estinien stiffens for a moment beneath you, before releasing a slow breath. “I see.” Is all he says, and it is silent for a few minutes more. Times like these, you wish he did not speak so much, want so much from you. He wanted far more than you could give, both because you couldn’t risk his safety and because of your feelings.

Your feelings for--

“I should make you scream louder then, huh.” He chuckles and you smack him on the chest for even saying such a thing.

“You brute.” You can’t help but laugh, even a little bit.

“I think they prefer the term savage.” He smirks, tilting your face up to him. Your eyes immediately look to the far wall, not wanting to meet his own, knowing exactly you’ll find there. “Honey.” The adoration in his voice is enough to pull your gaze back to him, his eyes boring into your very soul. “There is nothing I would not do for you.”

Tears finally overflow, a sob breaking past your lips. “That’s the problem.”

Standing in Varis’ office, you have no choice but to stand there and be humiliated as your own moans and sighs are played back for you to hear. Your face is not red from embarrassment or shame, but instead a righteous anger that even your most tender moments must be used against you like this.

You wish you could go back in time and slap yourself silly.

Lips pursed together, you glare back at Varis, hiding nothing, hiding none of your absolute loathing for him. That loathing shifts into disgust when you swear there is a note of enjoyment in his features at listening to the playback. Reclining in his chair, he throws you a vile smirk as your conversation with Estinien plays over the computer speakers.

“What had you called the bodyguard earlier? A friend?” He asks, twirling your choker between his fingers.

“I don’t believe I hesitated.” You ground out, parroting his own phrase back at him.

“This sounds far too personal for something as trivial as friendship.” He gleams, placing the choker back on his desk. “Do not think I did not see your attempt to protect him.”

Your heart seizes in your chest, body going stiff as time seems to freeze for a moment.

“You’re bold, little savage, to go against orders from your superior.” Varis’ tone is completely absent of any amusement, his golden eyes staring you down.

Fear stills your tongue, makes you question your actions and it is not fear for yourself; it is for Ardbert, for Cid, for Estinien--

“I-It is because perhaps I do feel something beyond just friendship for him.” While meant as a lie to try and appease him, you startle yourself with how much truth the statement carries. “In that moment I was not thinking of your orders, and only of my...feelings for him. To protect him.”

Varis studies you for a moment, before that sleazy smile returns to his face. “I see.” He chuckles, relaxing once more. “In that case, I will excuse this mistake, so long as it is the last. Am I understood?” You nod, which seems to please him. “Good. I will admit, I was growing...apprehensive at the sudden turnaround of your relationship with Zenos. But with this confirmation of your feelings for that savage, I believe things will resume according to plan.” He tilts his head slightly, pinning you with a pitying look. “Savages should breed with savages after all.”

Taking a deep sigh, you clench your fists tightly at your sides to keep your anger in check. “Is there anything else, sir?”

“Is there anything else, my lord.” He corrects, brows furrowed. “And no, you are free to go.”

You cannot turn on your heel fast enough to get out of there.

As tempted as you are to slam the door behind you, you allow the lock to gently click shut, power walking down the hall as fast as you can. It is entirely too early in the day for you to feel as stressed as this, and it is well past noon. Due to Varis’ orders, you have no need to go anywhere near Zenos and this is the only time you’ll ever feel gratitude for the monster that is Varis zos Galvus. The last person you want to see right now is his son, at least, not before you can take care of all these hickeys.

Never could you have predicted that taking on this mission would mean that your love life would also be in jeopardy. Gone were the problems of a guy not texting back or breaking your heart altogether. No, now you had to deal with pretty, rich boys and prickly bodyguards who treated you right.

You could already hear Y’shtola’s admonishing tone for even thinking of choosing Zenos over the man who actually treated you like you deserved. Had Lyse known about Zenos and what he did to you, you were sure that she would give him a piece of her mind. The thought makes you shudder, because while Lyse was also a trained fighter, you knew she could never lay a hand on Zenos.

No one could.

Grumbling about nothing in particular, you spend the rest of your day off watching whatever is on your tablet, filtering through cute cat videos and recipes you would never get to try. Before you know it, the sun has already set, and you’ve missed dinner, but it's not like you had much of an appetite anyway with how the day’s events played out.

Shrugging, you pull yourself from the comfort of your bed to pad to your bathroom to turn on the shower, needing to give it a few moments for the water to warm up with fall’s chill settling in. Heading back into the bedroom to grab a fresh towel, someone knocks on your door and you wonder who it could possibly be this late in the evening. Stepping to the door, you slide it open, gasping as you come face to face with a tattooed chest.

Following that tattoo upwards you meet an ice cold gaze, glaring down at you with the strength of Coerthan blizzard. “Zenos, what is,”

Saying nothing, he takes a single step forward and you take one back, letting himself into your room without permission. The door slides shut behind him, and you watch as he reaches a hand past his back to lock it shut. Trepidation fills you as you stare up at him, noticing how he’s already seemed to be dressed for bed. He wears a loose, silken robe, maroon in color, his hair loose around his shoulders. He wears no shirt underneath, and you bring your eyes back up before you can find the chance to see if he wears no pants either.

“It’s rude to barge in,” You try to start, but he takes another step towards you, reaching for the collar of your shirt. Acting fast, you quickly dodge his grip, spinning out of arm’s reach and closer to the bed. “What do you want?” You ask, gulping as you see no way out. There’s no way you’re getting past him and out the door without making a scene, and the circumstances aren’t so dire you need to break out your window.

He glares at you still, practically prowling toward you as he holds your gaze. “Why weren’t you at dinner?” He asks, and the question seems so random, you forget to keep distance between the two of you.

“Why does it matter?” You huff, crossing your arms across your chest. “I just forgot; after dealing with your shitty father, I wanted to just sit and enjoy the rest of my day without all of…” you gesture vaguely between the two of you, “this.”

Frowning, he pauses, a hand reaching to grab one of the bedposts as he gives you a heavy lidded look. “My father? What has he bid you to do this time?” He asks, the question innocent enough. You quickly debate on whether you should tell him though, given that his father hasn’t apprised him of his plans for you. Especially given that they involve Estinien--

“He sent me to collect information, as usual.” You reply, giving him a nasty look. “He was just especially shitty about it today.”

Zenos seems to consider that for a moment, almost mulling it over. “I see.” He takes another step toward you and suddenly you are aware of just how much distance he has covered between here and the door.

“Well if that’s all you wanted, you’re free to leave,” you continue backing away from him, checking behind you to make sure you don’t bump into anything. Edging away from the bed, you head toward the closest wall, the steam from the bathroom caressing your skin. “I was getting ready to shower and sleep for work tomorrow, and it seems you already have as well. I think we’re done here--”

“Oh, my beast.” He chuckles darkly, voice as thick as sin. “We are far from done.” He hasn’t stopped his advance on you, your mind addled from the day’s events to realize you had backed yourself right into the bathroom. His height allows him to nearly bump his head against the door frame, his broad shoulders nearly touching the sides. Stepping in, he shuts that door behind him too, trapping you both inside.

“W-What do you want?” You ask, voice trembling much like your body is, gasping as your lower back makes contact with the sink. With nowhere to go, Zenos stands before you, all muscle and good looks and gods, he smells so good--

“You’ve been with the bodyguard again.” It is an accusation instead of a question, a statement instead of an inquiry. Shame floods through you at this, cursing yourself for feeling trapped in this spot. To say you didn’t want to be with Estinien was a lie. To say you did was also a lie. You couldn’t tell the truth, not without putting Estinien or your own feelings at risk.

“So that is what my father put you up to, then.” Zenos murmurs, his hands resting on either side of you, gripping the shining porcelain, leaning into your personal space. You can feel his sigh against your cheek as his eyes jump across your face. The anger is still present in his eyes, though you notice it does not seem to be directed at you anymore, at least. But then…

“Please don’t...hurt Estinien,” You beg, but he shushes you with a finger on your lips, the action surprisingly tender as he continues to hold your gaze in silence. You stand there as he gazes at you, pinning you with a look so possessive it steals your breath away.

“How cruel are you to say another man’s name in my presence.” He mumbles, pressing his thumb against your lips, as if to test their softness. “No, I will not harm him. If there is anyone you should be concerned about harming him, it would be father.” As he leans forward you close your eyes, whimpering as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “And if there is anyone you need to be worried about me harming...it would be father.”

Frowning, you reach out for his robe, enjoying the silk in your hands as you grip it tight. “I can protect myself.”

“This is true.” he whispers against your skin, his hand leaving your lips to instead snake around your waist and pull you against him. “But you cannot protect others from my father.”

You can already feel his arousal against your stomach, and though it is only half hard, it is impressive nonetheless. An ache of your own begins to grow between your legs, thighs clenching together as your body tries to press into his. Tilting your chin up, Zenos dips his head to press a kiss to your lips, biting down on your bottom lip in a way that has you melt into him instantly. Your hands clutch at him frantically to loop around his neck to bring you closer to him, needing to feel more and more.

Groaning, his hands immediately seek out your pants, pulling you off the sink enough to push them down your thighs, fingers grazing your already sensitive skin. You use your own to push his robe aside, exposing his chest as best you can while you kick your pants off as he works to shove your panties down as well. “Zenos,” you whine and he growls in return, hands hastily reaching for the hem of your shirt to wrench it over your head, taking no gentleness in the action that leaves your shoulders hurting for a moment.

You’re not in pain for long, his lips pressing kisses from your lips to your jawline, setting every nerve on fire in its wake as he trails down your neck where Estinien’s own marks lie. The force at which Zenos sucks on your skin is almost forceful, a mix of pain and pleasure as his hands work to divest you of your bra and dump it on the bathroom floor. Now naked, he grabs you by the hips and hikes you up onto the sink, placing himself between your legs and pulling you to him so you can feel his full hardness.

The way he nestles against your core is absolutely divine, your head rolling back as he continues to overwrite Estinien’s marks with his own. Feeling like things are unfair, you dig your blunt nails into his skin, wanting to leave some kind of mark of your own; after all, he did say he was yours as much as you were his.

Now that he has you naked, he’s feeling more agreeable to your hands trying to divulge him of his robe, his arms leaving you just long enough to get out of his sleeves before they are bringing you closer again. His hands immediately seek your breasts, squeezing and kneading, showing none of the initial gentleness he had just a night ago. His fingers pinch your nipples so deliciously it has you nearly jumping off the sink, your hips grinding along his length as you fight to get his robe all the way off.

To your surprise, you find that he was not wearing any underwear.

Face heating, you pull away from him as the robe falls to the floor, getting a good look at his length, before meeting his eyes. He arches a brow silently and you clear your throat before speaking what was on your mind. “Do you, uh...not sleep with pajamas?” You ask, watching as he huffs out a dry laugh.

“It depends.” he offers vaguely, humming as you take his dick in hand, feeling its satiny smoothness, its warmth and its desire for you. His hips jerk forward as you circle your hand around his cock, smearing the precum on the head before bringing your fingers to your lips to taste. It is salty as expected but you do not mind, eyes glazing over with lust as he brings his lips to yours to taste himself.

Your heart thuds in your chest as his hands rove your body, squeezing and gripping fiercely, yet so tenderly, that you don’t know what to think. The rush you had felt that night at the hotel as absent, and its place is something more...more…

Personal.

Too personal in fact.

Aware of this fact, you unconsciously try to pull away from him but he won’t let you go, pressing you further into the sink as he sinks his teeth into your skin. “Zenos,” you whine, your body wanting him, but, the way he holds you, it is not the way an enemy would. He does not hold you like one would in a one night stand with their boss. He does not hold you in the way a friend or a lover would.

He holds you like you belong to him, and him alone.

The thought alone tugs at your heartstrings, and you grip him that much tighter for it. “Don’t do this…” you whisper, not intending for him to hear, but he does.

“Do what?” he asks, licking a line between your breasts before he pulls you tight against him, hoisting you up from the sink. Your thighs tighten around his hips immediately as he walks you both to the still running shower, the spray washing over you both.

“I...I thought we weren’t lovers.” Is the only thing you can say without giving your own feelings away. Try as you might, you can’t tear your eyes away from how the water runs over the grooves of his chiseled form, his skin glistening before you as his hair sticks to his chest. Somehow his eyes are that much clearer here, an emotion you can’t name laid bare in his eyes, the intensity of it sweeping you away.

Grunting, he presses you against the wall of the shower. “We are not.” He agrees, reaching beneath you, trusting that you won’t allow yourself to fall. Taking his cock in hand, he fits the head past your lower lips, your breath hitching as he slowly feeds himself inside. “But you do belong to me.”

You hadn’t realized how ready you were for him, how wet you were that he meets little resistance as he pushes his cock deep inside you. Your head thumps against the shower wall as he pushes in ilm by ilm, your nails digging much more harshly into his perfect skin. He rests his forehead on your shoulder, breath hot against your skin despite the warmth of the water, a shuddering moan escaping him, your mind committing the sound to memory.

Something about this moment, makes you feel much more naked before him than you had ever felt previously.

Zenos had always been smart, always keen, as evidenced by him figuring out how his father was blackmailing you with you hardly having to say anything. He did not hae to say it, but you could sense he knew. He was able to read you like a book most days, to the point it was almost scary. That someone so vastly different from you could see right through you, begged to be believed. Underneath the spray of the shower, you feel as if all fronts are washed away, leaving the two of you raw with feelings neither of you know what to deal with.

Looking into his eyes, something in your heart yearns for him, your hands leaving his neck to cradle his face. Running your fingers along his skin, he remains silent under your inspection, eyes fluttering shut as your fingers graze across his lips, his nose. He truly was beautiful, all hard lines and soft edges, and undoubtedly yours. This man, this murderer, this monster, considered himself yours..

When you kiss him, it feels like you can’t get enough.

It is slow and heady, the feeling of his lips moving against yours, tongues dancing together as he fully hilts himself within you. He feels as perfect as he did the first time, your hands leaving his face to tangle in his wet hair, his grip on your thighs strengthening to hold you in place as he moves his hips to pull out before pushing back in, so slowly as if he is trying to carve out his place in your very being. Chest to chest, you moan into his mouth, your own hips trying to meet his thrusts but he holds you still, content on doing all the work.

“You’re so…” You rasp, taking your turn to trail kisses down his jawline, able to do nothing else since words fail you. Every part of his body you touch feels perfect, and you wonder how someone so awful could look how he does, hold you how he does.

“I know I forgot to ask last time…” he grunts, snapping his hips rather forcefully, burying his face into your neck, licking at the water that runs down your skin. “But you are on a contraceptive…?”

You nod, rolling your hips in a way so sweet he can’t help but groan. His hips snap into you again and you moan without shame, arching your back into him as he clutches you as if you’ll disappear. “Good. Because I’m not stopping. Not until it is clear to anyone with eyes just who you belong to.”

“Shouldn’t you have asked before,” Your quip is cut short as he gives a firm slap on your ass, the sting of his hand fading as he kneads the flesh, seeming pleased.

“Shut up, Honey.” He whispers, taking the time to meet your eyes, stealing another kiss as he begins to finally pick up the pace. Your ankles lock behind his back, holding you to him as his hips piston into your own, your sheathe so wet that he slides in and out with minimal resistance. His cock feels like it was meant for you and you alone, and the truth of that statement is enough to shake you to your core.

In your daze, you cup his face once more, meeting his stare, unafraid. “Say it again.” You demand, though with your lustful voice it sounds more like a plea. “Say my name again,”

“Honey.” He breathes, a realization shining in his eyes as if the very sound your name is magic. “Honey.” He repeats, pressing his forehead against yours, eyelids sliding shut as all his focus enters his third eye. “Honey.” The reverence that suffuses his voice makes you hold him tighter, to where air could not possibly pass between the two of you.

Reaching between you, he plays with your clit, increasing your pleasure as he fucks you. Your moans turn into high pitched cries of faster and more, kisses feverish as if the world is falling down around you. Paired with his fingers on your clit and his cock pounding you, it does not take you much longer to come undone, his name a prayer on your lips as you find your release. With your body gripping him so tightly he follows soon after, his seed shooting deep inside you as he moans your name against your skin.

The water has long since gone cold, something you thought impossible in this house, but you suppose you have been at it for awhile. The two of you stand beneath the lukewarm spray, a shiver racking your body as you keep close to Zenos for warmth. You both stand there in silence, unsure what to say, lest things get more complicated and this moment ruined.

Lowering your legs to the floor, you stand on wobbly feet much like a newborn fawn, the Galvus heir’s cum sliding down your legs, washed away by the spray of the shower. Shivering again, you press closer to his warmth in a rare show of weakness, the action making him go stiff before an arm reaches around your shoulder to hold you close. You feel his chin rest atop your head, the two of you standing there on the precipice of the unknown.

Gaining a courage you do not feel, you look up at him, finding he is looking right back. His hand brushes strands of your wet hair from your face, examining you much like you did to him earlier.

If you were asked who was the first to close the gasp and start that next kiss, you wouldn’t be able to answer.

As dawn breaks on the horizon, you groggily try to turn over to catch a few more precious minutes of sleep, confused as you find you cannot turn over at all. Thinking yourself tangled in your sheets, you kick your feet out to try and right yourself, only to have your toes brush against someone’s legs. Someone’s bare legs.

Gasping, the night comes back in a rush as you come face to face with Zenos’ sleeping one. That you have woken up before him is shocking enough in and of itself, considering he is always the first to wake and be ready to train every morning. His arm is like a steel band around you, his even breaths atop your head warm and soothing. Like this, no one would ever think him a monster, his face the very picture of peace.

Without thinking, you reach to press a small kiss to his lips, able to fully appreciate their silken texture now that you’re not in the throes of passion. The moment doesn’t last for long however, a sigh passing his lips as he holds you a little tighter and kisses you back. Despite the two of you being nude and pressed against one another, the kiss remains surprisingly chaste, simply enjoying the taste and feel of the other this early in the morning.

Seemingly satisfied, Zenos gives you a smug grin as he finally opens his eyes. “Good morning, my beast.”

Twelve above, what have you done?

“Good morning, Zenos.” You respond burying your face in his chest, unwilling to show him anymore than you already have. You’ve been vulnerable enough for a lifetime, you think.

“We should start our day, should we not?” He hums, giving you a firm squeeze. “As unopposed I would be to keep you in bed with me, we still have work to do.”

While a day in bed with him sounds wonderful, it makes you concerned for how much your feelings have changed. “Well, I’m in my room. You’re the one who has to do the walk of shame back up to your room.” You say with a rude snort, trying to pull away from his hold but he’s not willing to let go of you quite yet.

“It is hardly a walk of shame, my beast. It would not be the first time the staff have seen me stumble through my home naked after a night of fine drinks and fine women…” he mumbles into your neck, pressing a kiss there. This was getting way too personal, too fast. “I would not doubt that a few of them are winning some fairly large prize pools based on last night.”

You push on his chest to get yourself far enough to throw him an incredulous look. “A prize pool? Like a betting pot?”

Grinning as he snuggles into the pillow, the look he gives you is almost dreamy. “The greatest ‘will they or won’t they’ so I’ve heard. I suspect you’ve made quite a few maids happy.” He pauses to stretch, deeming it time to finally get out of bed. “It would not be the first time I’ve caught wind of my employees making bets upon my personal life. I suspect there will be a new bet soon enough.”

You don’t even want to begin thinking of what the staff could possibly be making bets on, knowing that it would never spell any good for you. Clutching your sheets to your chest, you watch as Zenos swings his legs out the bed, unbothered by his nudity at all. Your eyes immediately latch onto the sight of his ass, hand itching to release the bed sheet you hang onto so dearly and slap his backside much like he did to yours last night.

“I think you left your robe in the, uh, bathroom.” You cough, quickly averting your eyes as he circles the bed to go retrieve his silk robe. Now that he’s at least got some cover, it's far easier to look at his face, though that seems to only get your heart racing. “I will meet you in the gym, as usual.”

“Of course.” He purrs, giving you a sultry look as he makes his way toward the door. Pausing, he tosses you a smirk over his shoulder. “Though, feel free to let me know if we need to cancel today. I will be more than understanding if you find yourself unable to walk.”

You sit there gaping like a fish before your mind can formulate a response, cursing his name as you toss a pillow at the door just as it shuts. Grabbing another pillow you scream into it in frustration, legs kicking as you try to calm down. If he was going to be this egotistical every time you slept with him, you’d honestly just stop altogether.

Once you’ve calmed down, you sigh and finally roll out of bed yourself. Heading to the bathroom, you head to the shower to turn it on, spinning around immediately to make sure the door to your bedroom is locked this time. Your thighs are still sticky and gross from your all night session with your boss, and you can already hear Y’shtola’s judgemental sigh of disapproval.

With the water nice and hot, you step inside and release a blissful sigh, all the aches and pains and a certain soreness melting away. Hopefully it would be just another day sitting at the office as Zenos signed papers and made phone calls, giving you time to rest after he saw fit to nearly kill you with pleasure the night prior.

Now alone, you allow yourself to actually reflect on last night, the spray of the water putting you in a trance as it takes you back to your time with Zenos. His hands on you, almost worshipping your body, the surety of how he handled you as if he already knew how you liked it. The way he looked into your eyes as he sheathed himself inside you, as if you were the only person who ever mattered to him.

You wondered if he even knew what he was doing, knew the weight of his gestures, his staring, and how it was terrible for your heart.

There was not a shadow of a doubt that Estinien wanted to be more than friends with benefits; that he genuinely cared for you romantically, and wanted to give you more than just a sparring session on the weekend occasionally sprinkled with sex. Estinien was a man who deserved far more than just a weekend fling and a tussle in the sheets because you were too afraid to confront your feelings about your boss.

But now that you’ve also done the deed with Zenos, where did this leave you? Zenos couldn’t possibly be looking for anything such as commitment; in fact, you’re positive he’d laugh in your face for suggesting such an idea. But his feelings of possession were so strong you knew if you even dared to pursue anything permanent with Estinien, Estinien’s life would be forfeit.

Telling Estinien to back off for his own safety would be the proper thing to do, were you not trying to protect him from the son of a mafia boss.

With your thoughts getting nowhere fast, you decide it’s best to stop thinking about it, at least for now. Turning off the shower, you hop out to go and dress for the day, deciding to actually take Zenos up on canceling training.

A decision you would come to immediately regret.

“You want me to what?”

“I don’t believe I hesitated.” Varis sighs, flashing his son a bored look. Zenos, however, looks absolutely livid. “You will be shadowing me today.”

“But I am your son’s bodyguard! His!” You insist, resisting the urge to stamp your foot. “I told you that if I was looking to change my career path, I would talk to you!”

“I am not only your employer, but also the face of the company, I get to make the executive decision of overriding my son’s wishes of keeping you.” Varis replies in that even tone despite his son looking like he’s ready to slice his head clean from his shoulders. “I believe the two of you are in need of...some time apart.” He huffs distastefully, giving his son a once over. “Really, boy. A plethora of women to use at your leisure and you choose...the help.”

Zenos doesn’t back down, stepping to where he’s eye to eye with his father. “And you constantly choose to take things from me.”

Varis gives a slight shrug of his shoulders, crossing his hands behind his back. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have such refined tastes. I deserve only the best, and if I must take it from you, so be it.” Side stepping Zenos, Varis heads for the door. “Livia will be your bodyguard for the time being. Honey, come along.”

Glancing between Varis’ retreating form and Zenos, you can only give Zenos a worried look, though for him or for yourself, you are unsure. Deciding to just deal with it, you follow Varis out the door, becoming his shadow. A bunch of questions lie on the tip of your tongue, but you decide it is best to lie in wait and speak until spoken to for fear of saying the wrong thing or revealing something accidentally.

Opening the car door, Varis steps inside, taking a seat. Before you can make a move to shut the door and head for the passenger side, his hand grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “Where are you going?”

Frowning, you answer him simply. “To sit in the front seat.”

“And can you protect my life effectively in the front seat?” He asks, tugging surprisingly hard to pull you face first into the car. Quickly gaining your bearings, you sit up right, closing the door as gracefully as possible.

Unable to hold back any longer, you glare at him. “Why are you doing this?” You ask, though it comes out more like a demand. Varis however, looks undeterred by your hostility, crossing one leg over the other, steepling his fingers together in his lap as is his habit.

“As I had said before, savages should breed with savages.” He replies with a roll of his eyes, the action only making you angrier.

“Is this really about me fucking your son?” You can’t bring yourself to care about your cover when this monster has little care for your privacy. At this point, you’re surprised how he hasn’t found out you’re a cop yet for how fucking nosy he’s been.

“It is. I had hired a bodyguard to protect his image. Not to be a bedmate.” He sniffs, looking down his nose at you. You hardly feel the car pull away from the estate as he continues, “I was willing to look the other way if was to be a ‘one night stand’ as it were, but clearly I must keep you apart.”

You can feel the leather squeak and stretch under your grip as your nails bite into the seat, teeth clenched together as you are floored by the sheer audacity of this man. “And what about all that talk of ‘wanting the best’? Did you lie to your own son?”

“I have never lied to him. I have never needed to.” He huffs, relaxing fully now that you have exited the grounds. “I have never feared my son for despite his monstrous nature, I know he will never turn against me. I instilled in him since birth that we deserve only the finer things in life, but myself most of all. After all, it is due to my own work that he can live the lifestyle he craves.”

Confusion stills your anger for a moment, and you get the sinking feeling of something deeper running between father and son. “W-What do you mean?”

“Really, savage, do you think Zenos could live the way his heart desires as a common citizen?” Varis scoffs, once again rolling his eyes. “He cannot kill me, for once he does, his ability for The Hunt as he calls it, ends. All of my primary assets such as the company will belong to him upon my death, but for our more...underhanded dealings, they will remain out of his grip. I know he would only squander what I had worked so hard to build.”

Letting that sink in, you find that your anger has left you entirely, replaced entirely be sheer disbelief. “Do you...do you even love your son?”

Varis arches a single brow. “Why would I?”

What you had prayed was one day had turned into two, into four, into one week, into two weeks. Everyday, you woke at dawn, no longer allowed to train with Zenos, instead forced to do your morning exercises outside despite the temperature steadily dropping as autumn slowly took its hold on the city. Zenos had seemed to be sent out of the house more often as well, always doing his father’s bidding. What glimpses you caught of him were few, and when you did meet his eyes, they were so emotionless it broke your heart.

Being Varis’ bodyguard was every bit demanding as Zenos had warned it would be, your body exhausted from the first day alone. Everyone who was not Varis himself was seen as beneath him, and therefore subject to do anything he asked. From the most outrageous such as dislocating the wrist of a new subordinate who had forgot to address him “properly”, to simply pouring a fresh cup of coffee if his current one had gotten too cold for his liking.

Varis’ hours were not nearly as late as Zenos’ , meaning you got the chance to have more sleep, for what good it did you. As soon as you were finished with dinner, you would rush to your room and jot down notes about Varis that could hopefully be used against him in court. Miserable as you were, you had to remind yourself this was the chance you were looking for, no matter how much you hated it. You had learned Varis had little to do with his own gang, seeing fit to delegate others to handle matters for him and punishing them for their failures. It was a blessing in disguise that you at least did not have to go out and maim lesser gangs for no reason, but that did not make things you had seen any less horrifying.

Some days it seemed like Varis was trying to impress you, occasionally slipping you fine things such as a pocket watch glittering with diamonds, or treating you to lavish lunches with only you and him seated at a table. While disgusted, you knew there was nothing you could do to get out of this situation, sitting awkwardly as he would ramble on how he grew to be so successful. You couldn’t understand what he could possibly be trying to impress you for, seeing as he had split you and Zenos apart since you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other.

Seeming to realize that his usual methods of impressing women were failing, Varis decided to be awfully cryptic about his plans for this night.

“You’re showing me...what exactly?” You ask, the city streets far behind you as you once again enter a more suburban part of town. The sight is much more familiar than the sprawling gardens and three story mansions you’ve gotten used to since the start of this job.

“I realized that perhaps my prowess would not truly dawn on you until I had shown you something much more...substantial.” Varis hums, a smirk on his face as the car pulls toward an unknown road.

Something in your gut tells you that whatever he is about to show you is going to make you sick. “And what would that be?”

Chuckling darkly, he pins you with a fierce look. “I think I will let it speak for itself.”

The road quickly turns into rocky gravel, and despite you riding in a luxury car, you hardly feel a change in the terrain. Tall trees begin to sprout up all around you, the sinking feeling in your gut growing deeper as you wonder if maybe Varis has finally found out you’re a spy and is here to kill you.

Coming around the bend, a massive warehouse sits alone in the forest, seemingly abandoned but you noticed that every single window is blacked out. It is strangely lacking in cars, and yet you see a smoke stack that is huffing out chemicals just fine. Looking around, you notice a handful of black vans, their windows tinted so darkly, that no one would be able to tell if there were any passengers. A large wire fence surrounds the entire compound, taking notice that while it seems pretty shady at first glance, taking a closer look you can spy armed guards around the perimeter.

The car is allowed through the gate without being made to stop, the driver pulling up to the closest door. Parking the car, the chauffeur shuffles out and hurries to open your door, clearing his throat when you don’t realize you had been staring for far too long. Scrambling out the car, Varis elegantly steps out behind you, placing a hand on your back far too low for comfort. “Come. Let me show you just how powerful I really am.”

Clamping down on your instinct to dig your heels into the dirt, you allow Varis to nudge you forward, his hand on your back the entire way as the door opens before you. Cold air sweeps over your face, your eyes struggling to adjust to the incredibly low light of the first room. Stepping in, you notice a small receptionist window to the side, Varis standing before it and giving a small nod to the man inside. A loud buzz sounds as well as the sound of several latches unlocking, and an armed guard opens the steel door before you.

Nudging you forward again, you pass through, the door immediately slamming shut behind the two of you. You find yourself at the base of metal stairs that lead to a walk way that circle the perimeter of the warehouse. A pungent smell fills your nose, smelling similar to ceruleum, but worse. Gasping you watch as a handful of workers tend to multiple machines, and truly take note of how large the warehouse -- no -- factory, really is. It expands further underground, huge vats of boiling, blue liquid swirling below you.

“Welcome, to the Aetherochemical Research Facility.” Varis takes the lead by heading up the stairs, and you follow close behind, the guard following right behind you.

“Aetherochemical…?” You ask, unable to take your eyes away from the sight. The employees working the machines are dressed from head to toe in hazmat suits, goggles reflecting the flames.

“There are strange forces at work in this world, Honey.” Varis begins with no small amount of dramatic flair. “Things that should be impossible, that are written off as happenstance. Luck. The universe at work, and so on and so forth.” As you walk along the balcony, you notice toward the higher rungs of the factory there seems to be a set of assembly lines, whatever substance that lay in the goo being deposited into cube shape moulds and sent down the line. “When I was young, being a child of Garlemald, my family had written off such things. After all, our ancestors were never able to use magic compared to myths of other races, and thus, did we write off its existence entirely.”

He pauses to face you, giving you a triumphant smile. “But I knew better.”

Turning back toward the assembly line, he gestures to two of the large cauldrons holding the mystery goo. “Within these vats is a substance once thought impossible. One comprised entirely of aether.”

Confused and concerned, you take a closer look, noting that it does have an unnatural shine to it. “Aether…?” You prompt, grabbing onto the railing to steady yourself.

“Believe it or not, our world is composed of a thing called aether. It is in the very air, the earth, the water. It controls all living things. Ancient legends from savage cultures say that once we pass from this world, our bodies become the aether we once were, and our souls return to something called the Lifestream.” He continues on, resuming his walk further down the balcony. “Unfortunately, due to the lack of research, harnessing its capabilities is still near impossible. The forebears of savages did not think to document their magics and manipulation of aether, and thus, have I had to do everything from scratch.”

Unsure what to say, you swallow thickly, trying your best to look even slightly in awe. “This is...more impressive than I first thought.”

He buys the bait, and you swear you can see his chest puff out the teeniest bit. “It is good that you think so. It is my life’s work.”

Try as you might, you cannot stop yourself from needing to know more. “This...aether. Are you turning into a fuel source? Or something else?”

Varis gives a single chuckle at that, golden eyes pinning you fiercely. “That is classified.”

Nodding, you turn back to the scene before you, feeling as if you stand at the feet of something far greater than the police force could have ever realized. “If that is so, why tell me all this?”

It is silent for a moment, until you hear him approach you once again. His features are that much harsher in this dark factory, making him look truly vile.

“Because it would mean nothing to me to simply kill you if anyone found out.” He answers lowly, face relaxing for a moment. “Though I trust it will not come to that. You are a force of nature, Honey.” Reaching for your hair, he takes a strand of it between two fingers, much like he had when you first met him. “One I hope to claim for myself.”

#FFXIV #ff14 #Final Fantasy XIV #zenos yae galvus #zenos #THP

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smolbeandrabbles · 4 years ago

Text

Try It On, Take It Off - Orson Krennic x Reader (Rogue One)

100 Sentence Challenge Request

Orson Krennic + 95 - “Have I mentioned, I fucking hate Halloween.” Requested by @mysticaltimemachinewench

Author’s Note: Roll with the idea of Halloween and October 31st being things in the Star Wars universe just for this fic, please! This boy is so whiny, I spent all week writing for him last week and he’s still like “write more!” so, I thought I’d post one. It’s because he’s all the bottom of my drafts now I’m sure of it. Boots & Boys - Kesha Okay, so I was looking for songs to do with dressing up. And I found a bunch of cute love songs about wearing your SOs clothing, but... This one is fun and I needed fun for the premise-!

Disclaimer: Rogue One Characters/SW Universe not mine. / Requested premise / lyrics & gifs not mine.

Premise: Every Halloween it’s the same thing, and Krennic is sick of people dressing like him. This year he’s determined to get to the bottom of things...

Words: 2010

Warnings: Swearing / Sexual connotations/Pre-Amble

_____

Think it's time that I mention I've got myself an obsession For the smell, for the touch I know I've got myself a habit But I gotta have it now I don't care where, work it out Let me break it down I try it on, I take it off So what you got? Something 'bout boots and boys They bring me so much joy I gotta say I wear 'em both so pretty as I walk in the city Give me boots and boys I'm keeping quite the collection Take nothing less than perfection My men drop beats like a bomb Wind me up, spin me round Oh, lookie what I found (ooh!) I'm crazy for you, crazy for you Hey hey, whatcha looking at? Hey hey, something you can't have They've got me looking rad You feeling that?

---

October 31st was always a date Krennic hated seeing in his calendar. The Death Star had not been a project spanning months by any stretch of the imagination. Orson was many, many years into this – and he was now accustomed to his workers Halloween traditions. He couldn’t say it wasn’t one of the reasons he was glad that it was nearing completion. That, and he might finally get the recognition he deserved. At least for now he had you. Given, you were relatively new to the project when he looked at the timeline as a whole, but you were certainly a necessary piece – and Krennic actually liked you. A lot of the other employees, if he were honest with himself, he actually could have done without. Which is probably why you’d grown close – and then maybe a little too close. But Orson wasn’t going back on that now. This was the day Krennic didn’t want to leave his office – inevitably, it was also the day that everyone would have him chasing all over the structure. Why? Oh, because they all knew how much he hated today too! So as soon as the email pinged in from the other side of the Death Star, Krennic tried everything he could to get them to come to him, or to send him documents, pictures, anything that meant he didn’t have to go on an annoyingly long walk. Orson used practically every persuasive trick in the book, to no avail. Eventually he had to concede rising from his desk, sighing angrily, and gathering his things to head to the problem. Almost immediately he was assaulted with the kind of visuals he’d become accustomed to. It seemed every other person on this damned vessel took today to dress up as him. Now, whilst dressing in the full white Intelligence Bureau tunic would have been against protocol and would have meant he could reprimand them, everyone decided to wear capes of various different colours instead. Some, like his, matched their uniforms – and if it wasn’t also for the fact they copied the way he walked and carried himself, with an unconvincing attempt at his accent and speech patterns, he’d find it quite tasteful. Krennic would almost be flattered, he supposed - perhaps even feel like a trend setter – had the crew not being doing it for any other reason than to mock him. God forbid any of them attempt Lexrulian; one day it was going to make his ears bleed. Others decided to wear their ‘capes’ in the gaudiest colours imaginable, and sometimes Orson felt like he was going to be physically ill just staring at them.

Still, technically all of this was against regulation – and although he probably couldn’t take on the entire staff and win, he took pleasure in chastising those he disliked most. “Isn’t that a little against your uniform regulation?” “Take that off now – before I have you reported.” “Next time I catch you in something like this, you’re off the project.” Annoyingly, he could never keep how irked he was out of his voice – and they took great joy out of that, and never bothered hiding it. When they did take these ridiculous attempts at mocking him off (Though it worked. He supposed.), Krennic knew they’d be pulled back on before he rounded the next corner – but for now at least, Orson could be smug in his little bit of power. The fact he could actually force the crew to remove them. He often pondered how this started. Tarkin, he had no doubt. Krennic wasn’t going to blame himself after all, he knew his uniform looked damn good. He just wasn’t fool enough to think this was respectful admiration. Eventually he reached the person who emailed him and, as predicted, it was an easy fix that Krennic could have done in less than five minutes on his tablet back in his office. The Director almost punished them on the spot for that, but by this time was already too pissed off with the situation to trust himself not to lose complete control. Not that that didn’t happen a lot, especially when everything was stalling – but today that was what everyone wanted. ‘If I see another bad attempt at ridiculing my uniform I’ll scream…’ Orson’s jaw was beginning to ache with the way he was tightening it. Half way back to his office, Krennic took a detour. By now he really was yelling at people – Orson was this close to drawing weapons and kicking them off the station, Project Stardust be damned. Desperately seeking respite, he wandered back to his quarters and as the corridors began to quieten, scuffled along in his boots, sulking. ‘What did I ever do to deserve this-!?’ Reaching the door to his room, Krennic gave a small smile – he would receive relief in here. Well at least she will be sweet... I can tell her my frustrations and she’ll sympathize… As Krennic keyed himself in and the door slid open, he realised just how wrong he could be. You were walking up and down the main room and studying yourself in about every reflective surface you could find. If this wasn’t you, Krennic would have blown it, and immediately all his irritations came flooding back. You were, of course – with access to his wardrobe - pacing around in his uniform. Full Intelligence white, rank bar included. Sure, the sleeves were rolled up – which pained him because it’d take an age to get those creases out - and the cape was a little long for you, but, you had the whole thing on, right down to the boots. Usually Krennic might smirk and call you out on wearing his clothes, after all you did look good in his tailored shirts. Any other day of the week he’d probably be pretty turned on right now. But NOT today. As the door slid closed behind him and beeped locked, you whirled around. The cape moved with you and your eyes fell to it; immediately distracted. Krennic’s uniform was gorgeous on him, but the feeling of power you got when wearing it for yourself was indescribable. You liked running your hands over it – the feeling of the fabric between your fingers very nearly bordering obsessive with your need to do it at every chance you could; it was so perfectly weighted that, in all honesty, the tailoring was a marvel to you. You always made a mental note to thank the designers and sewers for their impeccable work. (On Orson’s entire wardrobe, actually.) “Director.” You presented yourself and looked back to him, “What do you think?” Orson very nearly shivered, and if he wasn’t so pissed he’d probably have let himself. That was Lexrulian – and compared to everything else he’d heard today, was very nearly music to his ears. “What are you doing-!?” There was a snap in the undertone of his voice – agitated, to match the way his jaw tightened. You answered cheerily, nonetheless. “It’s Halloween. So, I’m you! I mean you could be me if you wanted, but I’m not sure the uniform would fit-!” You giggled slightly at the mental image of him in your tight black jacket – no, maybe it wouldn’t fit properly, but it might look really good. If only for a second. Although Krennic was glaring at you by now. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, is all this YOUR idea-!?” For a moment you looked innocent, “No! You mean the fact everyone else does it? I didn’t start it, but I felt I could damn well finish it. Besides, LOOK!, I can do it better than everyone else!” “No! No! Y/N-!” You scrambled up onto the table, and cleared your throat. It was clear to Krennic you’d been practicing, because you had his stance down and his mannerisms almost perfect. He was almost impressed. “The POWER we are dealing with here is immeasurable! Single reactor ignition would be just an inkling of it’s true destructive potential! And I will not fail!” He blinked slowly, thinking you were mixing up at least three of his previous conversations there. There was a long pause before Krennic stepped forward, pointing at you. “GET. DOWN! Do you have any idea how expensive that table was-!?” “Awwww, Orson, c’mon!!” “I’m NOT impressed, GET DOWN!” “Baaabe.” “Don’t whine..!” You backed up just out of his reach, even your best innocent eyes weren’t saving you today – he must have been furious. “But it took me so long, I’ve tried on all the variants, I tried on your dress uniform even-! And it isn’t complete without the cape, and the rain one doesn’t have a patch on the glory of this one!! I thought it wouldn’t drag if I put on my heeled boots, but that didn’t get the look right either! And it’s you – so, it had to be perfect…” Your eyes glittered gently as you tried to plead with him, “I thought if I did it properly, it might make you smile. That it might be more… respectful. I dunno I-” He cut you off, demanding, “OFF. THE. TABLE.” “Well, what are you gonna do-!?!” Krennic was quick on his feet, and even though you’d backed yourself up he still managed to grab your wrist and drag you down. You might have been in his uniform, but you were nowhere near his height; and you might have had his traits down, but you didn’t have his strength either. Meaning within seconds he had you shoved up against a wall – with a squeak – before his lips were on yours, wrists pinned by your sides. He might have been angry, but that only made this kiss hotter, and you practically melted into him. Orson was showing you absolutely no mercy – and you weren’t sure if you really deserved it, but you were at least a little glad of it. Eventually he pulled away from you; leaving you gasping and panting for breath. But you whined, wanting more from him. “Have I mentioned, I fucking hate Halloween.” Krennic had, many a time. Which is one of the reasons you wanted to do this, because he might feel a little better if you were doing it right. Clearly you were in the wrong ballpark. You thought about nodding in admittance, but thought maybe continuing to be playful would get you what you wanted. “Don’t think you did – maybe you did. You should remind me.” “Oh, I think I will.” His smirk was back as you let him run his hands through the fastenings of the tunic and unzip your pants. Oh, yeah, he wanted this uniform off bad. You bit your lip, “It does look sexy on you though, is it surprising everyone wants to copy it? I mean I like trying it on and taking it off.” Orson nipped your neck, eliciting a gasp from you; “Evidently I might too.” Then he chuckled at your sigh, running his hands over your warm skin, “That doesn’t make me hate today any less. I mean it’s hardly tribute, is it?” You tipped your head, “I mean, I tried.” “Oh, don’t think I didn’t hear that mocking tone.” He grazed his lips to yours, and it was hardly rewarding, you pined for more but he held you away from him – still immobilized against the wall, “Still, I’ll admit so much… you do look very pretty in white.” You did very nearly blush, but knew that his mind wouldn’t be going to something as virtuous as weddings or dresses; probably a different kind of white lace altogether. “Can I keep the cape at least?” Maybe he’d enjoy you wearing that and very little else. That would be like a ‘sexy’ Halloween costume, would it not? Even if it was just for him. Maybe that’s what Krennic needed if he detested today so much. He growled, kissing you again before you let him slide the jacket from your shoulders and it fell to the floor; “If you’re good, we’ll see.”

--- Thank you very much for reading! It’s been a while since Krennic has been posted too, I’ll admit! 🙏❤

2/16 down!

#Mysticaltimemachinewench #Orson Krennic #Ben Mendelsohn #Director Krennic #Orson Krennic x Reader #Rogue One #Rogue One A Star Wars Story #Oh my god here we go again...#C'mon Orson don't act like you're not a /little/ proud of her!#Director Krennic x Reader #149 #Linzi Writes #linzi writes requests #Smol Bean Drabbles

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punksarahreese · 4 years ago

Note

“Shh, it’s ok. I know it hurts.” for chronic pain prompt ❤️

Hehe <3

CW: pain induced panic, surgery talk, vomiting mention, opioid mention

***

"What’s on the agenda for today, Doctor Bekker?" Connor’s voice was annoyingly chipper for it being six in the morning, and Ava told him so before answering his question.

"CABG on a 64 year old with coronary artery disease, check up on my ICU patients, and a routine pacemaker battery replacement."

"Busy," he nodded, "You’re here early and you don’t have a little psych resident shadow; where’s Reese?"

"She’s not my shadow," Ava rolled her eyes, "Off today, but knowing her she’s still doing case work from home."

"Kid’s dedicated, I’ll give her that."

Ava didn’t have a chance to reply before Connor’s pager went off, calling him down to the ED. He was disappearing down the hallway in seconds, gone without a farewell. Not that Ava really cared; she did have things to do that were a lot easier when Connor wasn’t hovering.

Forty minutes later she was in the ER, grafting a coronary artery with a vessel from the patient’s leg. CABG surgeries were easy, all muscle memory at that point. It was almost soothing to Ava, a repetitive process that let her focus on familiarity. The fellow she was supposed to be mentoring was barely helping, not that she really minded; but it was something to mention to Latham if he didn’t step up his work ethic.

"Doctor Bekker," a scrub nurse had picked up Ava’s phone when it went off, "Text from Doctor Reese."

Ava glanced back at her, "If it was urgent she would call, just leave it for now." Sarah knew she had surgeries that day and wouldn’t mind a late reply. She nodded and let Ava get back to her job, the surgeon falling back into the rhythm of familiarity she had between her and the instruments.

"3-0 prolene," she was just about to close the pericardium, getting ready to finish the surgery now that her graft was working well. That’s when her phone rang, the nurse once again saying it was Sarah.

"Alright, bring it here," Ava let her answer the call and put the phone up to her ear, "Hello?"

The strained voice that answered made Ava’s heart drop, "A-Ava..."

"Sarah?" She didn’t want to say anything to hint to the people in the room that there was anything wrong, though her brain was immediately running through every worst case scenario.

"I... I’m s-sorry... to bug you."

"Don’t be ridiculous," Ava’s tone was way softer than her words, "What’s up?"

"Hurts-" a rough breath cut her off, the squeak that proceeded it making Ava wince. She hated hearing Sarah in this much pain, knowing it must be really bad if she was openly admitting to it.

"What does?"

"C-chest. Can’t... stop it."

"Sarah," Ava could feel her own heart rate pick up as she still jumped to the worst conclusion, "Do you need to come here?"

A long pause was followed by a forced, "No."

"What do you need?"

"I-," Sarah was clearly crying, whether it be out of pain or frustration, "You- please, Ava."

"Can you wait thirty minutes? I’ll need to scrub out and drive there."

"Y-yeah. I’m okay."

Ava didn’t believe that, especially not with the stifled sob that had preceded Sarah’s claim, "Okay, I’m going to hang up now; I’ll be there as soon as I can."

"‘Kay..."

She gestured for the nurse to hang up the call, thanking her. Ava shook her head when she asked what was wrong, everyone in the room clearly curious.

"Doctor Reese is just having some car trouble, I need to go pick her up," she lied smoothly, "Doctor Maxwell, you’ll close."

The fellow looked at her in alarm, clearly not expecting anything of the sort. He began to protest but Ava stopped him, holding out the forceps with a pointed look.

"When I was in your year I would jump at any chance to do a surgery. You should be honoured that I trust you to finish this one. You know how to close a sternotomy, Maxwell; you’ve done it before."

He sighed and let her pass the suture needle, looking at Ava with worry. She promised him he would do just fine, insisting that there were enough people around to make sure he did well. This was surgical resident work, he could do it.

After that, Ava quickly stepped away from the operating table and half-rushed to the scrub room. She didn’t want to worry anyone by being too hasty but she herself was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. She ripped off her gloves, tossing them into the biohazard waste with her gown before going to wash her hands. It took all her willpower to avoid breaking the bar of soap out of anxiety, frustrated that her girlfriend was in pain and she wasn’t there to help.

By the time she had scrubbed out and shoved her scrub cap into her pocket, a nurse had brought her phone out to her and asked if everything was alright.

"Just fine," she replied without hesitation, "Don’t want to leave Doctor Reese waiting, it’s cold out and her car’s heater stopped working."

It was obvious that the other woman didn’t believe Ava but she knew better than to press the matter. She let Ava leave, going back to scrub so she could help Doctor Maxwell finish the surgery.

Ava made it down to the ED in record time, stopping only to grab her bag and coat from her locker. She found Connor near the nurses station, going over a chart with Natalie.

“Connor, I need a favour.”

He looked up at Ava’s voice, immediately confused because she had reverted back to her no-nonsense attitude but was unable to keep the worry off her face. The surgeon passed his tablet to Nat, saying he would be back before leading Ava off to a quieter part of the ED. It was clear in her body language that she was stressed, her shoulders tense and hands shaking slightly.

“What’s wrong?”

Ava shook her head, “Personal issue, I’ve got it. Can you cover my post-ops? And the pacemaker surgery, I left Maxwell to close my CABG but I’m afraid he doesn’t have enough brain cells to do my rounds properly.”

“Ava,” Connor tried to grab her wrist to keep her attention, “Is it Reese?”

She sighed, hesitating, “Yes. Do you have this or do I need to ask Latham?”

“I’ve got it,” he replied immediately, “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know. I need to go, Connor.”

With that she turned to leave, barely remembering to thank him for covering for her. Her brain was running on sheer anxiety at that point, hoping Sarah was okay. She didn’t want this to be a bad pain flare because her girlfriend didn’t deserve that. Still, a part of her was hoping that’s all it was; scared at what the alternative could be.

She made it to their apartment way quicker than she should have, very thankful she did not get pulled over. She knew better than to speed but her only thought at the time was that she needed to get to Sarah.

“Sarah?”

A barely audible sound came from their bedroom, making Ava drop her bag at the door and head in that direction. She wasn’t sure what she expected to find, but somehow she was completely unprepared for the sight. Sarah was slumped on the floor, head resting against the wall as she curled into herself. Her hands were pressed against her upper chest, as if that was somehow helping ease the severe pain she was experiencing. The strain on her body was evident, her curls were an unruly mess and eyes bloodshot from crying, reddened cheeks streaked with tears as she looked up at Ava with a pitiful look.

“I-I’m s...sorry.”

“Hey,” Ava was on the floor with her in an instant, “Do not apologize, Sarah. I’m always here for you.”

“I just-“ another shooting pain had her crying out, “C-can’t...”

“I know, I know,” Ava soothed as she wiped a stray tear off Sarah’s cheek, “Is it normal chest pain or do you need to go to the ED?”

Ava hated that, that she had become so accustomed to chest pain where people had to ask. The normal amount of pain should be zero but for her girlfriend it was always there, lurking and waiting to make things worse.

“N-normal... costo. B-bad.”

“Okay,” Ava was a bit reassured that it was rib pain and not heart related, “How bad, love?”

Sarah’s breathing was shallow as she tried to respond, shaking her head when she couldn’t get the words out. She reached out for Ava, looking at her with a mix of pain and frustration.

Ava was there in a heartbeat, drawing her into her arms as gently as possible. She leaned against the wall to support them, letting Sarah adjust herself and decide how much contact she wanted. She didn’t hesitate to press into her girlfriend’s body, arms wrapping around her neck as she hid her face in her shoulder. She was clearly seeking comfort in the only way she could at that point, needing Ava because nothing else was helping.

“Did you take your painkillers?” Sarah had a prescription for tramadol for this kind of episode but she had a habit of not taking them even if she needed them. She didn’t want to become dependent on opioids, so she found herself saying that she would save them for a worse day. Even if she was having the worst pain flare of her life, Sarah was hesitant to medicate. Ava understood that, but she also knew that it would help immensely in this case.

“T-tried...” Sarah wheezed, “T-threw up... couldn’t... too m-much pain.”

“Okay,” Ava nodded as she smoothed down Sarah’s hair, “We can try again later. Can you take a breath for me, darling?”

Sarah looked up at her with teary eyes, trying to do as she was told and breathe evenly. It only make things worse though, the deep breath causing her chest to clench painfully. It made her cry in frustration, just wanting to be able to calm down so she could sleep. She wanted this to end, she didn’t want to live like this anymore.

“Sarah,” Ava’s voice was far away as she got lost in her pain-fogged brain, “Sarah, focus on me, okay?”

She did try, shifting a little to face her girlfriend. Ava’s hands found her face, holding her cheeks gently to keep her attention. She tried to reply, an apology on her lips again for being such a handful, but all she could manage was rough cough. It was all too much, she just wanted to sleep.

“Ava...” she couldn’t stifle the whine that followed her coughing fit, the involuntary action only jostling her rib cage more. Ava saw the way she was becoming increasingly more frustrated, which only made her cry harder; the amount of pain she was in clearly causing a major mental toll as well.

“I’m sorry, Sarah,” Ava said softly, pulling her a bit closer. The brunette just slumped back into her arms, giving up on trying to be strong. She couldn’t do it anymore, it was only making the pain worse. Ava knew that and she assured her she didn’t have to be strong.

“I’ve got you,” she promised, “It will pass, baby.”

It was the pained sob that escaped her after that that broke Ava’s heart. Sarah had her face buried in her neck, hands clutching at her scrub top for any semblance of security. The way her body shook and subsequently flinched at the painful movement made Ava want to cry too. Sarah didn’t deserve this; she shouldn’t have to deal with this. Still, she had to be strong when Sarah couldn’t be, it was the least she could do.

“Shh,” she soothed, “It’s okay, darling. I know it hurts.”

They stayed like that for God knows how long; it could have been hours or mere minutes. Sarah just remained pressed against her girlfriend, silent except for the occasional stifled sob if the pain got too much. Ava held her a little tighter every time, speaking reassurances and pressing gentle kisses to her head and face. It made them both feel helpless, not being able to get through a flare like this any other way. Ava would take Sarah’s pain away in a heartbeat if she could, so the fact that all she could do was watch this happen made her feel sick. She just kept promising Sarah it would pass, because she knew it would. If she could calm down and sleep she might be able to get some rest, let her body heal from the self inflicted inflammation it was battling at that moment.

Sarah tried to focus on Ava’s words, the low tone of her accent always soothing her. It still hurt, she felt like she was suffocating, but it was more bearable like this. When she could be in Ava’s arms, surrender to the pain, and let someone else be strong for her. Ava couldn’t make the pain go away, but she could be there to make Sarah feel less alone. That was something she was every grateful for, even if she couldn’t express it in the moment.

#haha I’m sad <3 #this is 100% me projecting because I wish my girlfriend was here for bad flare days 😔#long distance is wack #but at least reesker have each other 😌💕#chicago med #sarah reese #ava bekker #reesker #my aus #chronic #spoonie!sarah #my-writing #ask #anon #this is unedited :/

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