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thexsilentxwordsmith · 9 months ago

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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Simon is struggling, he can't get off and he doesn't know what to do. As his sergeant you are one of the closest to him and can see something is up. An impromptu visit late one night might just be what he needs... And the way you are suddenly making him bow to your authority and turning his brain off might actually make him come.

Word Count: 6.2 k

Warnings:

Part 2 - Read Here

Lt. Simon Riley is frustrated out of his mind and he’s no longer able to hide it.

Something inside the stoic officer is causing him problems as a recent development makes him unable to reach the finish line when he’s touching himself, a secret that is causing a mental roadblock to his release… and he knows it’s making him a nightmare to be around.

Being his sergeant, the second in command and one of the few people closest to him, you are the first to notice the shift in his personality. Simon Riley has always been a man of very few words, but lately he’s been even more silent when it comes to everyone else, except for you. Every time you two speak he is short and harsh and blunt as if you are getting on his last nerve. It strikes you as strange since you’re not doing anything out of the ordinary from how you’ve interacted before.

Then there is his temper which seems to be on a shorter and shorter fuse these days as a week turns into a week and a half of no change in his attitude. Mix that with the visible tension he is carrying in his shoulders whenever you are near and it’s hard to ignore how drastic things have shifted.

Something is up, though exactly what it is you aren’t sure, but you are curious to find out and nip this shit in the bud so things can go back to the way they were before: you two being able to interact in a friendly manner.

It is the weekend of the nearly third full week this has been going on when you finally decide that enough is enough. The last couple of days he’s avoided you almost exclusively and that is it; whatever it is that has gotten between you is going to be hashed out here and now. Determinedly, under the cover of darkness at this late hour, you make your way to his room with the intention of staying until this entire thing has been fixed.

Simon sits alone in his quarters with his hand shoved into the waistband of his sweats, his hand palming around his cock, stroking up and down in hopes that this will finally be the time his body does what it’s supposed to. Things are progressing fine…that is until he is abruptly interrupted out of nowhere.

There is a knock on his door and it rings through the room; who the hell could be so bold as to bother him at this time of night just when he is about to give this thing another try? Releasing himself, he straightens up his clothing and grabs his mask, putting it on as he stalks over to the door ready to lay into whoever is standing on the other side. He savagely flings it open and immediately he can feel his blood rushing until he can hear his pulse pounding in his ears at who he comes face to face with.

“Do’ya know what fuckin’ time it is?” he questions agitatedly as he stares back into your unwavering gaze.

Nodding in acknowledgement, you try to let his bad attitude slide; your mission isn’t going to be deterred just cause he wants to instantly get pissy. “Are you going to let me in or not?” you throw your own question back at him with a huff.

He weighs his options in silence as you stand in the shadow of his door waiting for him to react and after a few seconds he reluctantly decides that he can’t just keep you waiting outside; he isn’t foolish enough to think that if he just shuts the door that you will go away. There are too many prying eyes that could see something if he doesn’t act and he doesn’t need any of the bullshit that could come from someone catching anything. Stepping aside, he allows you to enter into the room.

“Shut the door,” he barks and you make sure it is secure before turning back to face him. You may have been permitted to enter, but the space right in front of the door is about as far as you can go as his body blocks you from moving in further, keeping you stuck between him and the exit.

“What the hell are ya doin’ ‘ere?” he asks.

Staring back up into his eyes, you survey the curious look through his agitated glare. There is something there sparking in their depths, an unspoken need of something that he is longing for, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. “You’ve been in a mood lately towards me and people are starting to notice,” you admit after a moment. “What’s going on, hmm?”

Simon diverts his gaze from your scrutinizing one. “ ‘is nothin’,” he says hastily, not ready to confess to you the cause of his frustration. It’s not exactly something he wants to go revealing to everyone…especially not to the source of the problem.

Just from his reaction you know it’s definitely not nothing and his lie falls flat without gaining any traction.

“Well something has gotten into your craw,” you say as you lean your back against the door with your arms crossed across your stomach; you can’t move so you might as well get comfortable as you hash this out. “Whatever it is that you think I’ve done that’s gotten you in a foul mood at me, if you’ll just tell me, we can figure this out cause we can’t go on like this; it’s going to affect our work.”

All he wants to do is listen to your words, but his attention is being drawn somewhere else besides your face and it is getting hard to pull his eyes away. Why the fuck did you have to wear that god damn tank top? Christ it’s so tight he can make out the contours of your body without even having to try and at his height all he has to do is look down to have the perfect view of the top of those juicy tits popping out of the top. Not to mention your jeans which look to be painted on to your every curve. There is a stirring in his pants, the first signs of life between his legs. It’s getting harder to tell you that you should go.

“Not exactly somethin’ I wanna talk ‘bout,” he says hesitantly as he adjusts his stance so that the fabric of the long, gray sweatpants he has on won’t reveal anything.

“Come on,” you say, trying to appeal to the small bond you had before all this, “you know you can trust me. All I want to do is figure out what I’ve done so we can move on.”

This isn’t your fault and Simon knows it isn’t fair to put this on you as if it is. As much as he doesn’t want to admit anything, he knows that it will only make things fester more if he doesn’t say something, and all he has right now is the truth. “Ya haven’t done anything,” he denies your culpability in his actions.

“Then what?” You wait patiently for his reply.

He clears his throat. “Look, I’ve jus’ been havin’ a fuckin’ time… Christ… tryin’ to … uh… get off lately,” he grumbles as he begrudgingly admits to his predicament. “Some god damn mental block that’s got me…unable to…”

The sentence trails off with a displeased sigh of defeat, but in all honesty he doesn’t have to keep going; just from that tiny bit of information you can glean what’s going on, why he’s been so on edge, and what he is going to need to fix it.

Simon needs to come.

“Seems like something I could help with,” you say as the corner of your lip upturns slightly at the thought. “Why didn’t you just tell me? I would have come over; it’s not like… you know… we haven’t done things before.”

There is a pause. “Thought we agreed that those were just to let off a little steam and we were just gonna leave it be,” he says in that low, gravely tone that instantly has goosebumps prickling over your skin.

Simon has you there; a couple quick, adrenaline-fueled rounds behind the mess hall after a few high stress missions doesn’t make you two actual lovers, but that also doesn’t mean those meetings meant nothing…or that you would deny any chance you could get to have him again. You just can’t ever say no to him.

Besides, he should know that this is something you would be doing for the greater good, right? A distracted lieutenant could mean trouble for the entire team, not just you. So, if getting him off will keep him from being distracted it is worth it; that’s a good enough reason for you to remedy this.

But how?

There are several things you know about your superior officer and one of them that stands out among the rest in this situation is that he always has to be in control of everything in all aspects of his life. What if you took away some of that power? He says he feels like there is a mental block keeping him from climaxing, what if you just shut off his brain for a bit? Make the dominant become the dominated.

Simon was the one to turn your brain off those times past, perhaps it is time to return the favor. Mental blocks won’t be a problem if he is an overstimulated mess.

With a small thrust you push off the door and stand up to take a few steps closer towards him, drawing the distance between your bodies down to just a few inches. “Don’t you want to feel good, Simon?”

“Don’t know if this is a good idea, luv...” he still tries to deny himself even as he catches a whiff of your scent, that natural musk mixed with your perfume that drove him to lose his head those other times, and the fragrance conjures memories of the past that only make his pulse race more heatedly through his veins. He wants to come and he can’t deny that he wants it with you, but if he gives in and allows you to do this it may only make things worse.

You smirk and shake your head as you reach out to grab playfully at the drawstring hanging down the front of his gray sweatpants, lightly tugging on it so that the fabric puckers up. “That isn’t what I asked, Simon. Good idea or bad, that doesn’t matter right now. Do you want to feel good?”

Fuck, how pent up he’s been and with you standing here enthusiastically pushing to help get him off, how in the hell is he supposed to turn you away when now all he can think about is wanting to fuck you until neither of you can move? He knows this is a bad idea, but is unable to stop himself as gives in to your question with a short bob of his head up and down.

“Jus’ somethin’ ta take the edge off,” he says with a hint of desperation.

“Then let me fix that…my way,” you say as you shove him backwards towards the small sofa you see he has sitting up against the wall a few feet from the door.

Large, greedy hands begin to fill themself with your body before he’s even sat down, but that won’t do. That is still giving him too much authority. Simon is bigger than you and if you want to be the one to dominate this hulk of a man you are going to have to cut off his ability to use his body to his advantage.

“Hands off,” you bark as you take a step away.

You can see the immediate shift in your superior. Simon has seen you work with the new recruits and he knows the way you lead and how it demands respect, but being on the other end of it catches him unprepared on how to react and he stops dead in his tracks.

Giving him a second to calm down you step back in towards him. “This is no longer in your hands as doing it your way hasn’t seemed to work this far. What I think you need is for someone to turn that serious fucking brain of yours off for a bit and that’s what I plan to do. So, here’s how this is gonna go: you are going to keep your hands to yourself and use your words while I play for a bit or I’ll just call it a night and leave and you’ll be back to square one. Understood?”

Simon remains silent, unsure of where his voice has gone as he can suddenly hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. What is happening? In an instant the tables have fucking turned and everything he has known is flipped on its head. He isn’t used to giving away any bit of his control to anyone, especially not like this, but god damn does he have to admit that the visceral reaction he has to the way you are standing firm on giving him orders has his cock twitching as it stiffens.

He doesn’t know exactly what is happening inside him, but he wants you to keep going.

Standing there lost in the assault on his sanity, he isn’t aware you’ve moved until you have your hands under the edge of his mask and holding tight you pull it up off his stark features, discarding it to the floor before grabbing his chin and bringing his head down to make him focus on you again. Suddenly he can’t seem to intake enough air.

“I said, is that understood?” you ask again, with more firmness this time. “I’m gonna need you to say it - out loud.”

He swallows to coat the dryness scratching his throat. “Yes, understood,” he confirms.

You smirk. “Good. Now, take a seat Simon.”

Maybe this is something he needs after all; you’ve barely done anything and yet he’s chomping at the bit to have more. He desperately wants you to stay and he will do whatever it is to make that happen. Taking his seat on the sofa he places his hands on either side of his thighs against the cushion before looking back up at you with those warm, golden eyes expectantly.

“See, I knew you’d be good at this. You’re already doing so well for me just like the good little soldier you are, following my orders perfectly,” you approve and his stomach flutters at your praise.

Those dilated pupils track your form as you step up to the edge of the sofa and grab onto his knees, pushing them apart as you lower yourself down between them. Your eyes look straight ahead to the place you want to start at, that broad area just beneath his shirt.

“I think this needs a bit of attention, don’t you?” you ask as you pull your hands off his knees and bring them up without waiting for a reply.

Your hands splay open-fingered and wide across his chest, palms flush with his muscles as you drag them slowly down the rigid peaks and valleys of his abdomen over the soft fabric of his thin sleeveless undershirt until you can feel his pulse quickening under your fingertips. Reaching the hem along the bottom, you lift it up to reveal the broad girth of his torso: those beefy muscles lightly decorated with a thin layer of hair that travels down into the waistband of his sweatpants, a guiding path straight down to the final object of your mission.

You lean in as you lower your head down and he inhales sharply before holding his breath as soft contact is made from just your mouth with all that toasty, smooth flesh just below his belly button, caressing your lips against him repeatedly until his skin tingles. He jerks under the connection as you stick out your tongue and place the pad against him to run it around the indention right in the middle of his lower abdomen.

And suddenly he is vibrating under your lips as if he has been touched with a live wire. Every single embrace of your mouth leaves him reeling in the heat of pleasure until he feels like a puddle in your capable hands.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groans with a hiss as he looks down to maintain eye contact as you move up the length of his trunk with your licking and kissing and biting at his sensitive body, leaving a trail of heat everywhere your mouth touches. He knows you can feel his cock stabbing against your chest as you lean further over his body to get at his sides, but there is nothing to help it now.

Sharp teeth trail deliciously painful across his meaty hips like a razor blade over all that beautiful skin and old scars that are still a little numb and add an entirely new sensation to the mix. His abdominals clench under your bite as he takes in quick, short breaths until he is panting as your yearning mouth latches onto the thick of his hip as you suck in the muscles and bite down. Small grunts echo from his lips as you tease and tease his body until Simon can’t help writhing under you as he gets lost in the way you make him feel.

One of his large hands leaves the cushions involuntarily and palms the back of your head, fingers gathering the strands of your hair in the spaces between them to guide you as you move up his body, but unfortunately for him you are going to have to stop; he’s broken your rule by touching and you aren’t going to continue until he’s been reprimanded.

“What did I say about those hands?” you scold with your lips still against him before you pull away, the immediate lack of pressure making him antsy for you to come back.

Jerking his shirt off his torso to get the damned thing out of your way, your eyes dart around the room in search of something you can use to prevent him from disobeying again and it doesn’t take long for them to land on his leather belt just a few feet away. Reaching and scooping it up, you turn back and immediately hold your hand out to him.

“Sit forward and give them to me. Now.” you demand and Simon is compelled to follow your every word as if he has been placed under a trance, more and more eager to see where this leads.

Quickly you gather his wrists together behind his back and wrap the belt around them, slipping it through the buckle and pulling taut so they are bound together, but not too tight. You set the strap under him so he is forced to sit on the tail to keep him from being able to free himself. Satisfied with his restraints you rise to your feet and move yourself over him, kneeling into the cushion so that you are straddling his lap and sitting on top of his wide thighs, his cock resting between your knees.

“No touching,” you reiterate and he repeats the phrase, desperate to not have you stop again.

“No touching.”

“Good boy,” you say the moniker and hear the second he stops breathing as his eyes glaze over.

Never has anyone ever called him that before so it isn't until this moment that he knows what it's like and it triggers some innate part of his brain that now craves your praise as if he has always been starved for it. If his cock was tenting his pants before, it is nothing compared to now. Keep this up and he may come before he ever gets inside you.

Oh he likes that, does he? you think as you watch him completely fall apart at two silly little words. Best make sure to keep that in your back pocket to use again.

Everywhere you place kisses begins to burn until it feels like he’s on fire by the time you reach his chest and latch your hand around the back of his head, your fingers making the short hair tingle across his scalp. Brown eyes flit down to your lips as if willing them towards his face; he desperately needs to taste them, press his lips tight against them over and over until they are raw.

Yet you won’t give in to his soundless pleas. Denial is making him overwhelmed with the nature of his desire and soon his mouth is aching for you to break and give him what he wants. Instead, you tilt his head away from you so that your lips can connect with the feverish skin of his neck.

The sensation of his pulse racing violently against the skin of your mouth is intoxicating. Knowing that you are the one causing nerve ends to spark to life makes you feel powerful; that strong, stoic man is falling apart at the simplest touch. This must be what it’s like to be at the top and you cannot get enough. Never did you think you would have it in you, but now that you are here you can’t get over the euphoria of it all.

His neck is a mess by the time you’ve finished your work and you release him from under your teeth to lean back and admire how pretty he looks with your marks covering him to the sound of his heavy, ragged breathing. As your sight is drawn back to his eyes, you can see the depth of his desperate need swimming there as his slightly parted lips beckon you towards them.

Leaning against his chest, you bring your mouth closer until the space between your lips is only enough to force you to share air. His cock twitches against your leg as your lips ghost over his, but not giving in yet.

“What do you want?” you ask barely above a whisper.

Simon can feel the warmth of your breath on his lips as you speak and it is driving him insane. The ghost of your kiss can be felt across his mouth until the skin there is burning for you to break the tension. “Fuckin’ kiss me,” he says, his voice husky and dry with a slight rasp at the end.

You catch his gaze and smile with your eyes. “How bad do you need it, Lieutenant Riley? I want to hear the ache in your voice as you tell me just how much you want me.”

Biting his lip, he takes a calming breath that does nothing to the heavy pulsating beat of his heart. “I’m fuckin’ burnin’ alive,” he admits, a tremble in the start of his sentence. “Achin’ something’ fierce to taste ya again just like the last time. God damn ya tasted so fuckin’ good, sweatheart. Fuck, I need ta feel your lips on mine ‘fore I pass out.”

God, he wishes he could break his restraints and get at your lips, but with your combined body weight securing the strap beneath you both there’s no way he can pull it out; he’s been trying, struggling with the leather and getting nowhere.

Your lips are so close he can almost taste you and yet still so far that it physically hurts that they are not on him. He leans in closer, but you are quick to pull back so that he cannot even brush against them. His body squirms under the overwhelming tension of it all as you keep your mouth just out of reach.

“Tell me, because I’m curious,” you ask in a breathy whisper, “do you ever think about us fucking? Have you ever touched yourself to the memory of it?”

Cocky looks beautiful on you and Simon hardly knows what to do with himself. He bites the inside of his mouth in hopes that the pain will force him back from the brink of insanity, but he is no longer sane enough to even register anything other than the hazy euphoria course through his body like wildfire. You could ask him anything at this moment and he is so strung out that the only thing he can do is answer honestly just so you will give him what he needs.

“I…t-think ‘bout ya all the fuckin’ time,” he stammers out. “Don’t even know how many fuckin’ times I’ve stroked to the thought… I could even still remember the way ya feel wrapped around me for a while after, but lately the memory’s faded. That’s why…”

His hesitation drives you to believe that this is something significant. “Keep going,” you demand as your thumb strokes over the corner of his mouth over the remnants of a faded scar that leads down his jaw.

A strong throb through his cock, a product of his pounding heart, makes him choke on his words. “T-that’s why I can’t get off alone anymore,” he grunts through his heavy breaths. “And it has me fuckin’ outta my mind. Thought I’d not get another chance to feel ya again… and so I’ve been strugglin’.”

Now it all makes sense why all his aggression was directed solely at you: he had to be near the one thing he desperately wanted, but he thought he wouldn’t get to have anytime soon. It was eating him alive and he couldn’t relieve any of the pressure from it. Something about the way his needy voice hits your ears causes a stirring between your legs as your clit pulses.

“See, that wasn’t so hard,” you praise. “Now, how about we fix that, yeah? Give you a taste of what you’ve been missing.”

The building anticipation is more than enough to kill as you finally break the tension and collapse your lips together with so much passion that his eyes are rolling back in his head as stars sparkle behind his closed lids. You taste a sweet as he remembers and he cannot get enough. Time doesn’t exist anymore as the moist warm air from your breath mixes in his mouth, the urgent connection of your lips making them sting from the friction, the heat between your bodies making him pant.

That mouth of his is insatiable, stealing all the sloppy, frantic kisses that you allow him to have until your lips are burning from the abrasion. He barely remembers his own name by the time you finally pull back from him; all he knows is that you’ve stopped and it has left him feeling so fucking empty.

His eyes beg you to come back to his lips, but you have something planned that might take his mind off the absence of your mouth for just a moment. “Lean forward,” you instruct, “I need to get these pants off of me and I want you to be the one to undo them… with your teeth.”

There is not a moment of hesitation or a word that needs to be said as Simon dutifully complies with eager movements as he leans to rest his forehead against your lower abdomen, his teeth heading straight for the button on the waistband of your jeans. Grabbing onto the fabric, he pulls it into his mouth and secures it with his teeth as he tugs and uses his tongue to unhook the metal before he catches the zipper and pulls the tab all the way down.

You aren’t going to be able to keep this up much longer, not with how you can already feel that familiar warmth growing in the pit of your stomach as a damp heat gathers between your legs. Even in a position of submission he still makes your clit ache and as much as you are edging him, the denial is working on you as well.

Placing your hand on the center of his chest you shove him back down into the sofa so you can remove your jeans painstakingly slow off your legs, doing the same to his sweats before climbing back on top of his lap to again straddle over him so that only a few thin fibers keep you apart. Your panty-covered pussy pushes down against the swollen tip of his cock straining against his boxers and you can feel the precum coating the tip soaking through the fabric as you press even harder over it.

Those thick limbs of Simon’s tense with an overwhelming need to touch, to feel your soft skin under his rough, coarse hands, to cling to all those deliciously full curves and every minute that passes only makes that need grow in intensity. There are no more thoughts, only sensations that overwhelm his consciousness now. You’ve edged him to the brink of insanity; his cock is so hard that he swears he is going to shred through his boxers if you don’t stop. He has to get at you.

You start to roll your hips over him in rhythmic waves, stimulating your clit off his tip until you are both a mess, and he jerks against the leather of the belt keeping him secure as if trying to break free. It’s time; he’s ready to be set loose.

Again you capture his chin in your grip and bring his face in close. “I can see you are trying to break free. What do you want?” you breathe the fierce words onto his lips. “Say it.”

“L-let me touch ya,” he pleads with what little dignity he has left, still struggling against his restraints.

You grind your pussy harder onto the stiff peak tenting his underwear and Simon grunts deep in his throat as his hips desperately rut against you to produce as much friction as he can. “But your groans are so pretty,” you moan as you roll your hips over him again and again. “Maybe I just want to keep you making good music for longer.”

Simon lets his head fall back as his eyes flutter closed; he cannot hold back those deep, guttural sounds that want to escape, summoned from the way you are grinding against him. “Christ baby, I need ta fuck ya,” he groans loudly into the silence with his mouth hanging agape.

Your pathetic little lieutenant, he does look amazing as a whimpering mess.

“You’ve done so good for me, Si,” you smirk, “I think you’ve earned your freedom.”

You get up on your knees and he lifts himself enough that you can wrench the belt out from under him and loosen the strap and he quickly pulls his hands out. They’ve barely been free for more than a few seconds before he is wrapping them around the sides of your face to aggressively drag it in so that he can overwhelm your mouth completely with his, taking the entirety of your lips and pressing his face against yours so hard that it hurts.

“God dammit, I’m gonna fuckin’ fill ya until ya can’t take anotha god damn inch,” he growls as he drives his fingertips into the bulk of your hips as he picks you up, carries you the few feet to his bed, and flips your onto your back to pin your smaller body down to the mattress with his as he crawls over top of you.

Wasting no time he reaches between your thighs and laces his fingers through the seam of your damp panties and rips them to the side out of his way as he shimmies his down just under the curve of his ass so that he can get his cock out.

“Can ya feel how fuckin’ hard I am?” he snarls as he aligns the head of his phallus with your entrance. “Ya see what you’ve done ta me? I’m a god damn mess. Now you’re gonna take it.”

“Yes, give it to me,” you beg, letting your tough facade fall away as you let him take the reins. “Make me take it, all of it.”

He prods against the tight opening as he readies to strike through and with a strong thrust he is inside you down to the base of his cock, the taut stretch around him that molds your walls to his shape nearly making him come just from the pressure alone. His eyes stay locked onto the point where he disappears inside your body as he waits to be able to watch it slide in and out.

“That’s it, baby. Fill me,” you cry out in adulation as that thick, veiny muscle stretches you out wide and fast, the pressure forcing your thighs to clench hard around his hips. Your fingers grip into his shoulder blades as you hold on for dear life, nails digging into his flesh as your body harshly adjusts to accommodate his girth.

Simon is trembling, struggling to regain some composure through the ragged breaths he takes. “God, I missed this so fuckin’ much,” he groans breathlessly and with such need that it gnaws away at your stability. “So tight, so wet, fuckin’ hell…”

It isn’t until he has calmed enough to start thrusting again that he realizes your hands are clinging to his back and now that he is in control again he rips them off and brings them up to keep your wrists restrained above your head, taking the opportunity to violently kiss your mouth and steal your breath away.

“My turn… no touching,” he snarls into your open mouth in mockery of your demands earlier. Two can play at this game and fuck does he want to return the favor.

His rough, hard thrusts shudder through the length of your body, shaking the bed along with you as his hips slam into yours while he punctuates each one with a loud grunt. He thrusts so hard it shoves his cock so deep into you he is nearly hitting the back of your cervix.

“God, ya feel so fuckin’ good,” his voice quavers as the pressure welling deep inside at the base of his spine radiates out through his limbs and threatens to burst at any moment.

It is a glorious mess that he becomes the longer he thrusts, drooling over your body as he can hardly function, going blind and delirious at the feeling of those tight, silky walls sucking him and fluttering around him. Those rough thrusts become more sloppy as his abdominals contract, his full body clenching as he grapples with holding on for as long as possible. The gauntlet of edging you put him through earlier leaves him in agony now.

“Keep your pace and come for me, baby,” you coax him through it. “Be a fucking good boy and come for me. I need to know I’m the one that can make you fall apart.”

Your mind is all static now, so lost on Simon’s cock that you cannot stand it. You are close, so close that it won’t take much more for you to come if he keeps this up and what better way to end this than to make him orgasm from the feeling of your walls clenching around him?

You focus everything on letting go and keeping silent so that the moment it happens he is taken by surprise and he will not be able to brace for it. Thrust after thrust he is trying to hold on to make sure you get yours, but he is losing it fast. Then out of nowhere your body shudders as you cry out and suddenly your body is squeezing him so tight that he can’t stop violently falling over the edge.

A roar is released from within his chest, his body writhing as he holds on to your waist for dear life while he hurriedly pries his cock out of you just as he burst his warm load all over your thighs, coating them in the sticky, milky white fluid. You grab onto his cock to stroke everything out as he trembles and grunts like a wild animal until he is dry and spent and only then do you let him go.

You melt like a puddle into the mattress as he finally pulls himself out from between your legs and falls down beside you, exhaustion flooding his body. Weeks of buildup have finally come to an end with an explosion. He turns to you, vision hazy as he relishes in the ecstasy of his high, and strokes your delicate cheek carefully with his rough fingers.

“Better than your hand, yeah?” you laugh, out of breath and dizzy from the flood of adrenaline and he chuckles along with you.

Simon’s body is still vibrating through the drunken stupor making his mind numb as he leans up onto his elbow as he pulls you against his chest so that he can connect your mouths again in a kiss that feels a lot like a thank you. With his mouth barely broken free of yours, you hear his whisper against your lips.

“I’m gonna need ya to do that again. ‘Cept next time, I wantcha ta fuckin’ make me really beg for it.”

Oh, I think you can definitely do that.

2K notes · View notes

hhoneylemon · 9 days ago

Text

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘩

dick grayson x hero!reader

summary: dick temporarily loses his hearing after a patrol

genre: fluff/slight comfort

word count: 1.2k

it was all a blur.

one moment, you’re fighting beside him. the next, he’s alone and blinking himself awake. he faintly remembers getting hit in the back of the head so hard that he could taste the color yellow.

dick doesn’t hear them. he can sense them, however, thanks to all those years in the gig. he turns as the thugs approach, sending a kick to the stomach of the closest thug, waiting to see who else would charge at him.

he doesn’t have to wait long. he wastes no time in beating a few of them with his escrima sticks, breathing hard when he sends another to the ground with a kick. his lungs and throat hurts. he can’t hear his breaths.

after punching the final thug a few times, he finally remembers he wasn’t here alone. a feeling of dread settles in his gut. he opens his mouth, roughly demanding where you are. he doesn’t hear himself, nor the reply as the thugs mouth moves. he curses himself internally; hearing loss. a possible sign of a concussion.

he drags himself out of the general area of the warehouse, searching separate rooms. he deals with the few thugs he comes across, but there are no signs of you. he’s beginning to panic. swiftly incapacitating people turns into bashing peoples heads into walls and floors. he’s more rough than he should be, less careful than he knows you’d wish he was.

upon finally emerging from the warehouse, he’s shown signs of your existence. there are a few thugs scattered about, already dealt with. he darts around in the shadows, being careful while also looking for you.

he almost screams for joy when he sees you in a small battle with someone. he’s immediately by your side, helping defeat a few other thugs who looked like they were about to gang up on you. you give him a quick ‘hey!’ as you punch the next thug, though you’re confused when dick didn’t reply to your greeting like he usually would.

the moment everyone else is dealt with, his arms are around you and the side of his face is pressed against yours. he lets out a shuddery breath and you make a noise of confusion.

“d? babe, you okay?”

he can feel your jaw move, but he can’t hear you. he lets out a noise of frustration, pulling away. there’s a look of despair on his face. you frown, cupping his chin with a hand.

“what’s wrong?”

his eyebrows furrow. what did you say? he shakes his head and points to his ear.

“i can’t hear.”

you tilt your head, giving a ‘huh?’ he breathes deeply, tilting his head to kiss your thumb.

“my hearing’s gone. i got hit in the head.”

you make a sound of understanding, then nod when you register the situation. you give him another hug, squeezing him. he quickly hugs back, gulping nervously. if he never hears your voice again, he’ll be gravely upset.

taking his hand, you begin leading him to the street. you can walk home, for all you care. or find a building with a fire escape you can climb to hop from rooftop to rooftop, either is fine. a kiss is pressed to dick’s cheek as you walk.

the usual chatter that’s shared after a patrol or mission is gone, bringing a sense of melancholy. all you have to comfort you is dick’s spandex-covered hand, which squeezes yours and makes sure you don’t have more than a few inches between each other. there are people in the streets of blüdhaven that pause and take photos of the cities defenders, though you’re left alone.

you find a building with a fire escape, pulling your boyfriend to the alleyway. he lets you climb first, following swiftly after you. together, the two of you run and leap from roof to roof until you make it to your apartment complex. he drops to the fire escape stairs and you follow him until reaching your window. breaking into your own apartment, you both climb into the bedroom.

you both strip and change into sleepwear; he grabs his tank top and sweatpants, stretching his arms. turning, he’s surprised to see you already on the bed. he didn’t hear the creak of the bed springs. oh yeah.

dick climbs onto the bed with you, settling onto his knees and cupping your cheek before kissing you softly. you place a hand on his thigh, sighing softly. he flutters his eyes at you and you frown.

“you’re so pretty.”

he gives you a look of confusion. you smile.

the two of you climb under the sheets together. he drapes himself atop of you, pressing his face against your chest. his arms wrap around your midsection, your own loosely wrapping around his waist. you peck the crown of his head.

“love you, dick. goodnight.”

he says nothing, though you didn’t necessarily expect him to. you stay awake a bit longer than normal, a sense of worry nestled in your mind, though exhaustion knocks you out regardless. dick takes much longer than usual; he’s used to sleeping to your heartbeat or your breathing, maybe the sounds of cars and such interrupting. absolute silence is frightening to him.

when dick awakes in the morning, he’s on his back with his arms flung at his sides. the room is illuminated by sunlight, the bed cold from the lack of his partners body. he groans, rolling over to hide his face in his pillow.

he heard the creaking of the bed springs.

he’s up within seconds, running down the small hallway to the kitchen. he finds you pouring a mug of coffee. he can hear the small hums that escape you, the sound of the coffee splashing into the mug.

as you put the coffee pot back into the machine, dick’s on you. he turns you, picks you up and spins you, places you back on the ground and attacks your face with kisses.

“good morning to you too.”

you smile, your arms wrapping around his neck. a sound that could be mistaken for a sob escapes your boyfriend.

“your voice is the sweetest sound on earth, babe. i, oh gosh, i love you.”

you laugh as he kisses your forehead, your cheeks, then captures your lips. his lips move desperately, as if he’d also regained his sense of touch. you smile, reaching a hand up into his hair and getting tangled in a few curls.

“well, i love you too. could i have my coffee now?”

he reluctantly releases you, watching you move with a small smile on his face. the moment you turn back towards him with your mug, he’s back to you. he gives you space to move your arm so that you can take a sip, though his hands find your hips and give them gentle squeezes.

you’d be annoyed that you weren’t able to sit if his face weren’t so pretty. a light smile carved with his lips, pretty blue eyes framed by long eyelashes, tan skin highlighted by the rays of sun that managed to leak through the kitchen curtains. with a sigh, you lean in to kiss his lips. he happily kisses back. you lean back and give him a teasing smile.

“have you even said good morning to haley yet?”

dick’s face drops. he immediately spins and skids to the living room a few feet away.

“my baby!”

you chuckle to yourself, watching as he drops to the floor in front of her. he’s such a dork.

masterlist

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #richard grayson x reader #gn reader #fem reader #male reader #nightwing x reader #batfam x reader #nightwing

356 notes · View notes

simmerandwrite · 5 months ago

Text

electric touch (part 1)

Pairing: Bucky x medical team! reader

Summary: Getting a spot on the field medical team was your dream. And your closest work friend Bucky Barnes finally asking you out? That was the cherry on top of your good news. Now all you had to do was pass your training week. Seems easy enough until you’re faced with someone who doesn’t want to see you win.

Warnings: abuse of power, verbal abuse, physical assault, some PTSD (but none of these are because of Bucky!!!!)

Wordcount: 7k

Part 2

Notes: hello! Are you hungry for a lil slice of ‘who did this to you’ pie with a big dollop of protective Bucky Barnes on top? Dig in!! I aim to be as nondescript as possible for the reader but I will note reader is shorter than Bucky and wears glasses. Thank you for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts! please consider reblogging, it helps my work reach more lovely people here on Tumblr. <3 merci!

---

Your regular lunch dates with Bucky started unintentionally. In fact, your friendship with Bucky had started that way – very unintentionally.

In retrospect, you couldn’t believe you had been late on your first day. You had intentionally set extra alarms to make sure you got to Stark Industries early.But you couldn’t control the inconsistencies of the New York subway system. When you skirted into the training room, only one seat was left – beside Bucky Barnes himself.

It was funny to think that the mandatory onboarding applied to new Avengers, too.

Of course, you knew who he was – the former Winter Soldier – but you didn’t realize he had to sit through the boring health and safety discussions and HR seminars like everyone else. When the first lunch break arrived, you turned to him and asked if he wanted to join you for lunch at the burger place down the street.

Initially, it looked like he was fighting off the urge to decline, but then he said: “Sure.”

Your conversations were very stilted in the beginning, which you didn’t mind. But as the week carried on, you felt the foundations of a friendship.

(He told you, later, that he appreciated your kindness that first day. That he had been really fucking scared to sit in that room with strangers judging him. He liked that you treated him like a normal person.)

It had grown organically since then – but you were simply just work friends. Your roles at Stark Industries slash The Avengers Initiative didn’t always overlap, but you did occasionally see him in the halls or if he happened to be by medical when you were working. Then, one day, you saw him eating alone in the cafeteria and you dropped down across from him to catch up.

Then lunch turned into a routine for you both. Typically on Wednesdays you’d sit together, if Bucky wasn’t on a mission or you weren’t on the night rotation. Sometimes Sam or Steve or some of the other nurses joined you, but secretly, you liked when it was just you and Bucky. Sometimes it felt like he preferred it that way too.

“So, guess what?” You sat down on the chair across from him, your tray knocking against his. He slowly moved his eyes from the pages of his book – he almost always had his nose in a book at lunch, regardless of the company – and matched your smile.

“I take it you got good news?”

You searched his face then frowned. “Wait, do you already know? That’s not fair.”

“Sam showed me the roster.”

A groan rumbled from your chest. “Boo.” You tipped your head to look at him as you paused. “Can you just pretend you’re about to hear this for the first time?”

Bucky smirked, putting down his book and politely stacking his hands to give you his full attention. “Sure. Start again?”

“Guess what?” You repeated, rolling your eyes.

“I’ve got no clue, doll. What?”

“You are looking at the newest member of the field medical team!” The chair legs squeaked as you danced in celebration.

“Congratulations,” Bucky replied, a wide smile crossing his face. He reached out and offered his fist, which you met with your own. You knocked your knuckles into his twice then wiggled your fingers at one another - a silly secret handshake you had invented together over a Taco Tuesday lunch one day, mostly out of annoyance to Sam.

You deflated afterwards, though, as reality set in. “Hopefully I can make it through training next week. It’s going to be hard but.. I can do hard things.”

Bucky reached over and grabbed your hand, holding it for a moment though he quickly pulled back. “You’re going to do great. You wouldn’t have been picked if you weren’t capable. You’re more than ready and, well, uh, I’m proud of you.”

You smiled, glancing down to where his hand had briefly made contact with yours. It felt.. hot, for some reason. You resisted touching the skin there. This had been happening more than you wanted to admit recently – a new spark when you saw him, when you touched. You thought you had easily avoided the possibilities of a developing crush on Bucky but.. something had been brewing for you. And maybe the same was happening with him, too - when you thought about how he looked at you, how considerate he was…

You wouldn’t know with any certainty unless you asked and you were way, way too scared to ask. Ruining your friendship may not be worth it. Especially if you were joining the medical team that would accompany the Avengers on some of their missions. What if you made it weird? What if you went on one date and it was terrible and your friendship never recovered? What if you asked Bucky out and then he laughed in your face and –

“We should go out and celebrate,” he cut you off.

Wait. Was his voice shaking?

You met his eyes. Was he nervous? “I still.. I have to pass the training.”

“I know,” he nodded. “And tomorrow I leave for.. an undisclosed location for the week. So. When I get back and you’ve crushed the training and have the new job title, let’s go out.”

“Just you and me?” You asked, swallowing hard.

Bucky took a deep breath. “Yeah. If you..”

“Like a date?”

He closed his eyes, face scrunched up. It was cute. “Yeah, like a date, sweetheart. Just you and me.”

Okay, well, okay. Yes. Okay, that answered your question. You supposed the risk was being taken either way. There. He did the thing before you could even talk yourself out of it.

You smiled, nervously adjusting your glasses. Oh my god. You hadn’t even answered. With eyes wide, you reached for him. “Yes, that sounds.. that sounds wonderful. I’d love that.”

He grinned, squeezing your hand. “For a second there, I really thought I screwed all this up.”

---

Bucky couldn’t believe it had taken him this long to finally just do it. Asking you out had been at the top of his list for a long time and although it scared the shit out of him, this follow-up feeling of anticipation had been totally worth it. Now he just needed to get through a grueling mission with a sweet reward at the end – a date with you.

You- the first stranger who treated him like a regular person. You - who cared so deeply about your job. You - who seemed to always hear his snarky comments and always laughed, giggled, snorted, at them. With a smile that could make his entire body warm up.

You. He couldn’t wait for that damn date.

A date was the scary next step. But he was tired of waiting and tired of denying his feelings. And thank god you had reacted just as positively. The foundation of your friendship was so important to him but he had a feeling things could be even better. He prayed he wouldn’t fuck it all up.

When he showed up at the compound early in the morning to get on the jet, Bucky was surprised to see Sam prepping in the pilot’s seat.

Sam jumped in with an answer before the question even left Bucky’s lips. “Natasha had to join Clint on the Belize mission, last minute. So it’s you and me, pal.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. Though he wasn’t mentally prepared for a week with Sam, he could handle it. Bucky was certain he could handle anything that he faced this week, knowing it was your face on his mind keeping him going.

As you crossed his mind again, another thought surfaced.

“If you’re here, who’s taking over the training for the med field team?” Bucky reached for his phone then cursed. They were going dark for this mission so he’d left his phone in his locker. Although he had sent you a message after he got up that morning, he wanted to reach out one last time and send some extra reassurance your way.

“Don’t worry,” Sam knocked his shoulder, standing up to do a final check of the gear. “Your girl is in good hands.” Sam added in a wiggle of his fingers in Bucky's direction.

You weren’t Bucky’s girl.. yet. He didn’t feel bothered by the term. In fact, he loved it and so badly wanted you to be okay with him saying it some day too. Though it was still worth correcting Sam. It didn’t seem fair to put a label on something without consulting you first. Not to mention Sam’s teasing about you and Bucky had been going on for months and Bucky did not want to indulge him.

“She’s not mine,” Bucky replied, scrubbing a hand down his jaw.

Sam carried on. “Boone is doing the training protocol instead, but I’ll manage the final evaluations next week.”

A quiet groan escaped Bucky’s lips. “Boone is a jackass.”

“I don’t disagree that he can be a bit too self assured - but he has proved himself in the field and will be a great mentor to this cohort.”

“Wasn’t he one of the agents Steve benched a few months ago - after his annual physical? What’s the term they used - he was doping?”

Sam sighed. “He was clean but a couple of his buddies were thrown out. But Boone is good, Buck. She’s gonna be fine.” With a final glance at the screen between them, Sam clapped his hands. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

---

When you applied for the job at Stark Industries for their medical team, you weren’t entirely sure what the role was going to entail. Your years of working as a nurse at the busiest emergency room in Chicago had given you plenty of experience with, well, everything and anything imaginable. You were always prepared for the unexpected.

What you hadn’t expected though was the pace - it was significantly slower than you imagined. Most of your days revolved around small visits from agents for anything from minor injuries and lacerations to annual physicals. On occasion you’d support when the Avengers came in, but usually they worked directly with Dr. Cho or the other on site doctors.

You figured the cure for your unrelenting desire for more was to get on the field medical team - a group of agents and trained nurses who accompanied the Avengers or other strike teams on missions, acting as a resource for any injuries to civilians and team members alike. Not every mission needed a team and sometimes it would involve last minute travel, but you didn’t mind.

When your application for transfer was finally accepted, you couldn’t get over how excited you were. You had been working hard for months getting into better shape, especially your stamina. Sure, maybe you could do a bit more when it came to targeted strength training but you had qualified on the initial testing to even get into the training level, so you’d be fine.

You could do this.

Truthfully, you were really excited about it. And Bucky had sent you the most encouraging message before he left that morning and you just.. You knew you could do this.

Bucky's words echoed: “...you wouldn’t have been picked if you weren’t capable. You’re more than ready and, well, uh, I’m proud of you.”

You were going to do this well and you were going to make yourself proud, too.

Most of your excitement depleted when you walked into the gym though. You joined the rest of the agents in the training group and braced yourself when you saw Agent Nathan Boone standing with his tablet, calling out names for attendance.

“Wilson had to suit up as Falcon and jump on a critical mission this morning so I’ll be running the training program this week,” he explained as he sized up his group, which included you plus another half a dozen training agents.

Without a doubt, Boone was the worst replacement for Sam you could think of. Boone exuded a confidence you couldn’t quite wrap your mind around, given his frat guy personality. Hiding behind his smarmy grin, linebacker build and perfectly coiffed hair - he was a real jackass.

You tried not to let your mind race as Boone walked you all through the upcoming week of training. You’d be going over everything from basic self defense skills to hand to hand combat strategies to overall endurance drills. Then he explained that next week it was Sam Wilson who’d be doing the final evaluations.

“So let’s prove to him you’re all a good batch, okay?” Boone’s demeanor shifted as he got into his coaching mode. “Let’s start with a warm up run. Onto the treadmills.”

This wasn’t your first interaction with Boone, though you weren’t sure he would remember you.

During your first few weeks you’d been responsible for doing the annual physicals for most of the agents. It had been a very repetitive (and boring) assignment, until some anomalies came up in the test results. A few agents, including Boone, had weird things flagged on their blood and urine tests - mostly markers that indicated steroid use. Which was completely against standards for agents and employees at Stark Industries.

One of them, some bulky aggressive asshole, tried to convince you to look the other way but you had ultimately reported it. The fallout caused a huge uproar between the medical team and the agents, with the consequence coming down on a handful of agents who were fired due to drug use. Boone had escaped that fate somehow, passing his re-test with perfect results. And even though HR promised you it was a sealed case, you were always worried it had left a bit of a target on your back.

Nothing had come from it. The next round of physicals you assisted with didn’t involve any of those field agents and no other concerns had been flagged. Everything seemed back to normal.

In fact, you had seen Boone once since that whole controversy. A few months ago you passed him flirting with one of the admins in your department but you kept your head down and ignored him. That was it.

Hopefully the week of training wouldn’t be soured by your history with him but you figured it was safest to go in with an open mind.

Thankfully, by the end of your run, as you were moving onto some basic tactical drills, he continued treating you just like everyone else. Generally firm and distant overall, but nothing strangely out of the ordinary. His barked orders were delivered to everyone evenly. If he had any recollection of your connected history, he didn’t bring it up.

The first day of training had been tough, especially since you still had a few extra hours of work to log afterwards. When you returned to your reporting station in the medical wing, you had to really settle your mind down and talk your way through the unkind thoughts racing around your brain.

You could do this.

The second day focused exclusively on muscular endurance, which wasn’t really your strong suit but you managed to keep up with the group all the same.

Boone had the entire cohort going hard - with a lot of tough but constructive encouragement coming from him along the way. When one of the other trainees dropped their barbells, it seemed to irritate Boone immensely too. He let out a few curses as he helped them pick the weights back up then apologized for his reaction but the flare of anger was evident.

When you were all heading back to the locker rooms, it was one of the other agents muttering about ‘roid rage’ that raised a red flag for you.

It was during the third day of training that you felt the first tug of resistance with Boone. It was small things that you couldn’t help but file away. The way he delivered supportive commentary to everyone else in the group but only gave you critical feedback. During one of the practical scenarios, he undermined all your answers.

“I see why you’d think that way if you’ve never done this before but I can tell you by experience, it wouldn’t work. Bit of an amateur way of looking at things, actually. You need to do better if you’re going to be in the field with experts. Are you sure you passed the interview for this role?”

He said things in a way that didn’t always seem personal to you, but he certainly delivered them in a condescending tone.

But, maybe, well, maybe you were just reading into things. You were feeling tired already and not really sleeping, so your focus was a bit off.

Yeah, you could do better, strategize better, think things through in a better way.

On the fourth day, after a morning of weapons training and spending time at the range, the session moved onto sparring drills. It was quite basic - Boone walked the group through easy to follow hand to hand techniques, spending time here and there with each person to adjust their form.

Everyone who qualified for the med team had to pass certain physical testing standards already. You had been working hard in the gym for months to get your mind ready, though you knew you weren’t very experienced in anything related to defensive techniques.

When he got to you following one of the scenarios, there was a firm frown on his face. “You need to be less in your head.”

You nodded, flexing and stretching your hands out. “Okay. Uhm okay, well, do you have any tips on how to–”

He was quick to cut you off. “Figure it out. I don’t have time to teach you critical thinking skills.” Following a sharp finger snap, he pointed directly at you. “And what’s with the glasses?”

“Ran out of contacts this morning, but I can do without them if I need to. Its–”

“They’re a safety risk.”

He didn’t care for your explanation or offer you any other advice, instead just muttering something as he moved on and tapping something into the tablet. None of his feedback had been helpful. Christ, you figured maybe it was worth starting a list to consult with Sam about following your evaluation instead.

You just had to get through one more day with Boone. You were tired - down to your bones, from the physical and mental work during this week.

But it was nearly the weekend and that meant next week was approaching. Most importantly, the training would be done and you would have a real date with Bucky on the books, too. You couldn’t wait.

---

The last training day was mostly a culmination of everything you had gone over from the week. There was more endurance testing, some strength and performance work and the day ended with more sparring and situationals.

You knew this was the light at the end of the tunnel. And when everything was wrapping up, you were relieved to finally be done with taking instructions from Boone, too.

Until his final speech. “You’ve been a great group and I would say most of you are ready for next week. Wilson will be impressed.” After a few more notes and instructions for the following week, he dismissed everyone. As you headed back towards the locker room, he called your name.

That made your stomach drop. He waved you back over towards the mats.

“I just wanted to give you a heads up,” Boone started slowly, eyes glancing around the empty room before he looked down at his tablet screen. “Here is the report on your training this week.” He turned the device so you could read over it.

After the first line, you took it from his hands. “Wait - what?”

“I just don’t think you’re ready.” Boone crossed his arms. “You’ve got the medical knowledge, sure. But the rest of it, even if you had another two months to train, I’m doubtful.” He took the tablet back and continued scrolling, as if he hadn’t just delivered such a disappointing blow to you. “It’s up to you whether you still want to do your test with Sam next week, but if I was in your shoes, I’d tap out.”

You swallowed hard, head tipped slightly to the side as you took in what he was saying. “That doesn’t make any sense. I kept up with everyone here this week.”

“This is a controlled environment; I don’t think you can hack it in the field.” Boone shrugged. “Like I said, you’re more than welcome to do your evaluation but I don’t think this will impress The Falcon enough to solidify your spot on the field team.”

“Good thing you’re not in charge of this decision then,” you bit in return, taking a step back. It felt like he was egging you on and you didn’t like it. Even worse that you were alone with him in the gym. “I don’t have to prove shit to you.”

“You don’t have to, or you simply can’t?” He countered, tossing the tablet to the side as he crossed his arms. He sized you up, eyes drawing up the shape of your body. “Let’s try something.” He motioned to the mats. “I’ll give you another chance to change my mind about that report. Maybe I misread your abilities and intentions.”

You knew the right thing to do would be to walk away and ignore how he was antagonizing you. But a tiny voice in the back of your head kept reminding you that you were good, that you had earned your place here. That you needed to show him that.

No, you didn’t.

Yes, you did.

You took a deep breath and stepped forward, placing yourself in the middle of the mat. “Fine. Let’s do it.”

Boone laughed, standing in front of you. He scanned you over again. “Scenario. You’re in the field, there’s a civilian who needs medical attention. You’re alone with them as everyone else explores the area for threats. But, it's night time, it was a busy bit of action and –” Boone reached over and pulled your glasses off. “And you lost your glasses in the chaos.”

Before you could protest about the logistics of this stupid scenario, he threw them to the side.

You shook your head and immediately stepped back. “What the fuck?”

“Maybe you should have worn your contacts today.” He replied and this time, there was something more at the edge of his words. Something unsettling.

This was a bad idea. But he was waiting for you to reply, to call his bluff and tap out. You growled to yourself and stayed.

“The civilian has a broken limb so you’re on the ground beside them.” Without even hesitating he placed both his hands on your shoulders and shoved you down to your knees.

None of this made any lick of sense. This wasn’t a scenario you’d end up in. You wouldn’t be alone or you’d call for backup.

He continued without a second thought, moving to stand behind you, placing his hand on the crown of your head. “And someone comes at you from behind – now you’re compromised and so is your civilian.”

You sat there on your knees, chock still. A red flashing light was going off in your mind but for some reason, you stayed.

A low, grumbly laugh escaped him. “See? Not only are you a terrible nurse but you have no fucking instinct—”

You immediately swung your leg up to hook behind him, not sending him down to the ground but gaining enough of your own momentum to plot out your next move. Planting a foot, you lunged forward and grabbed his waist, pulling him towards the mat.

That really set off whatever anger had been simmering in him. The next thing you saw was the training mat as your face and torso were being shoved against it.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Your shouting felt useless as your body writhed under his weight. Your cheek dragged across the plastic mat as you moved, burning against your skin. “Get off of me, you—”

“Defend. Yourself.” Boone barked back, adjusting to grab your arm. He gripped your elbow, then twisted your wrist behind your back. A jolt of pain rushed down your shoulder. “Took me a few days but then I remembered your face.”

You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut. “Please just stop. What is—why are you—”

“Three of my friends, my brothers – you ruined their lives, you know that? They lost all their job prospects, they have fuck all left because of what you did. You know, we need that stuff - to keep up with supersoldiers. There is nothing fucking wrong with some pharmaceutical help. If I’m backing up Captain America, I deserve the boost.” With his knee pressing against your back, he leveraged himself to sit up a bit straighter. But his grip on your wrist remained, growing tighter and tighter. “If you had just turned the other way and ignored those tests—”

“I was doing my job,” you mumbled back at him. “They were the ones who broke the rules and—”

His voice hadn’t quite grown to shouting but the intensity grew. “And you are the one who suffers now, alright? And you sure as hell aren’t joining the field team. I’m going to make sure of it.”

---

All Bucky wanted to do when they got back to the compound was text you. It was late Sunday night but he didn’t care.

After the grueling week he and Sam had, Bucky took comfort in knowing soon enough he’d get to see you. He wanted to know about everything from last week - from training to everyday life, he just wanted to talk to you. Crossing the threshold from friends to something more was scary but during his long, sleepless nights, you provided a strange sense of comfort to him.

Without doing a dang thing. Just knowing you made him better, inspired him to be better and to be present.

“Hey,” Sam tugged on Bucky’s arm before he headed to the locker room. “Medical check first. Then you’re free to send your little smiley face emojis to her.”

Bucky grumbled but didn’t have the energy to argue with Sam. The mission had gone well but hadn’t been the smoothest for either of them. While they both returned unharmed, Bucky knew coming down from these sorts of weeks properly was important.

Finally, after a clearance from the nurse and a quick shower - Bucky was turning his phone back on.

He dismissed all the messages from Steve and an Avengers group chat he liked to ignore then finally found his way to his conversation with you. Seeing a slew of your thoughts over the course of the week made him smile.

You: good luck this week - come back in one piece, please <3

You: made it through day one and two, turns out my five-story walkup apartment is good for my cardio skills after all lol You: remind me of that next time I complain about the stairs

You: day three has proved that I do need to work on my upper body strength You: wanna be my personal trainer? ;)

You: miss you, hope everything is going safely You: this week has really kicked my ass

Your messages did peter off by Friday and although Bucky longed for more, he assumed you were probably just tired after the long week. Plus, the training wasn’t for the light of heart. Sam had shown him the schedule and although it was standard, its intensity was intentional. Not that Bucky doubted you - he knew you’d been preparing as best as you could since you had shown an interest in joining the field team months ago. But that could really exhaust someone by the end of it.

And tomorrow you had to power through a final evaluation with Sam too, so Bucky hoped you got to spend the rest of the weekend resting.

He dropped down onto one of the benches and planned his response.

Bucky: hey doll, made it back safe and sound Bucky: in one piece, I promise :) Bucky: can’t wait to hear about last week, I’m sure you did great Bucky: good luck tomorrow, I’ll come find you after the eval Bucky: sweet dreams

---

Bucky felt a little bit silly, lingering outside the training gym. At least he wasn’t pacing, that would have been an even worse look. He leaned against the opposite wall to the doors, arms crossed.

Something just felt a bit off for him and, well, finally seeing you would help ease his mind. It was just strange – the lack of communication. Sure, he had sent his message quite late the night before but he assumed he might hear something back from you during the day.

But no, it had been radio silence. He could attribute it to your needing to prepare for your evaluation but that didn’t seem like enough of a justification. In all the times you and he had been friends, you always managed to send a reply.

He would just have to settle for an in person update, following your testing with Sam. Five other agents exited the gym by mid afternoon, but you never showed up at the door.

Sam did eventually emerge, tapping quickly against his tablet. He came to a halt when he spotted Bucky waiting, arms now tightly locked behind his back.

Bucky looked over Sam’s shoulder, trying to glimpse into the gym before he met his eyes. “How’d she do?”

Sam let out an awkward laugh. “Well, she didn’t show. She sent me an email earlier saying that she was sick.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed slightly. “Oh.”

“I know, weird. What’s even more weird though is that when I said we could reschedule her for another date, she tapped out.” Sam raised his shoulder to shrug then showed Bucky the screen.

Bucky scanned over the message and frowned. It was true. Your reply to Sam was short, explaining you didn’t want to reschedule and declined any further interest in the field team. That was it. You were out.

“Given how she sent me a five-paragraph essay explaining how excited she was to join the team, this seems out of character.” Sam tucked the screen under his arm and patted Bucky on the shoulder. “Give me an update after you talk to her.”

“What makes you think—”

“Oh, I already see your wheels turning. You’re doing the math on how quickly you can get to her place.” Sam called after him as Bucky turned to leave. “Let her know I can reschedule her anytime!”

---

You knew you couldn’t ignore Bucky forever. It was just.. it felt like too much, thinking of a way to reply. After what happened with Boone on Friday, every single thing in your life felt like climbing the steepest mountain.

It was absurd how quickly things had escalated. You should have just walked away the instant Boone brought up your evaluation. Getting on that mat with him was really fucking stupid and.. here you were.

You could barely remember how you got home Friday – dazed and confused and numb. After Boone finished screaming and you had stopped trying to fight back, you curled up on yourself. You fought back tears over the humiliation and pain, hands shaking as you grabbed your things from the locker room. One ridiculously overpriced cab ride later and you made it home to your studio in Astoria.

Then you cried in the shower and all the way to your bed - where you stayed as long as you possibly could on Saturday, dousing yourself in painkillers just to try and stay asleep.

You knew you needed to go to urgent care, or even just an emergency room - somewhere you could afford the x-ray. You had never broken a bone before but you had seen plenty of hand fractures during your time working in triage. You couldn’t make a fist, your hand was bruising up towards your wrist and the pain was excruciating. The image of Boone stomping on your hand and wrist as you tried to crawl away was imprinted in your mind…

You were stuck on the climb though. The mental battle of trying to figure out the best lie to tell the admitting nurses anywhere was daunting. Christ, how would you explain this?

You had to - you had to tell someone. The way Boone had flown off the handle, how he attacked you verbally and physically, he couldn’t get away with it. You knew the right thing to do but… fuck if you weren’t scared. He had made it pretty clear he’d be keeping an eye on you. And there was no way you’d be able to do your test with Sam now.

If you reported him, you’d probably have to get HR and the police involved and what if he denied everything and—

You ended up in a helpless loop every single time.

Saturday came and went. You only left your apartment to visit the nearest drugstore for a new compression bandage and more pain medication. Sunday passed by just the same. You skipped your normal spin class and barely spent time outside of your bed.

The pain in your hand was growing worse and worse. You had to use your left hand to send Sam and your manager messages - because even just moving your right hand made your stomach swirl. And the guilt about not responding to Bucky was growing bigger and bigger too.

How could you explain it? Boone had pressed your buttons and you pushed back and look what happened. How could Bucky be proud of you now?

Your phone had buzzed mid afternoon, just after you were supposed to be doing your session with Sam.

It was Bucky - worried and asking if you needed anything for whatever illness was plaguing you.

You ignored it.

When he called, you ignored that too.

You were balled up on the end of your couch, eyes glazed over as another episode of your favourite show loaded up on Netflix. You knew you needed to eat something, that the pain medication on an empty stomach was a recipe for disaster. But… you couldn’t get up. Laying perfectly still with a bag of frozen vegetables on your hand was the closest thing to relief you had.

Then, someone was knocking at your door. The noise made you gasp, though you couldn’t move. You could ignore the noise along with everything else. It was probably just your downstairs neighbour back to complain about your TV again and –

Whoever was at the door knocked again, this time calling out your name.

You recognized the voice.

Bucky.

He called your name out again. “Listen, I don’t care if you’re sick. I just want to make sure you’re alright. I grabbed some soup from that place I was telling you about.”

You sucked in a deep breath and pulled yourself up off the couch. You really, really wanted to see him - just the idea of his smile made everything feel a bit better. But then you couldn’t hide anymore and… hiding felt safe.

“I’m okay,” you finally replied as you got approached. “Feeling better but I might be contagious, Buck.”

You sensed some relief from him as his feet shuffled on the other side of the door. “Sweetheart, I.. I can’t even get sick, okay? I just need to see you.”

“My apartment is a mess.”

“I don’t care.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Bucky, I’m.. I’m not at my best right now.”

“I don’t care.” He said your name once more. “Please.”

You pulled up the hood of your sweatshirt then reluctantly reached for the door knob.

---

When you finally opened the door, Bucky was relieved. But when you immediately turned away to return to your couch without a word, his relief felt misplaced. Something was wrong. Your sudden weekend illness and dropping out of the new job training weren’t adding up to anything that felt good.

He was worried.

Bucky had never been inside your apartment before. There were a handful of occasions after work or some happy hour thing when he dropped you off but this was new. He liked the idea of seeing your home but he wished it had been different circumstances.

Home was a little studio, with a compact kitchen ahead of him across from the door. Beside it was a cozy living room area separated from the bed and windows, divided by a short bookcase. It was so very you and Bucky wanted nothing more than to just be there with you, scan over the books you like and curl up together on the couch.

But it wasn’t the time to daydream. Instead, he stepped into the kitchen to deposit the takeout bag, retrieving the soup before moving to where you were curling back up in your blankets.

“How are you feeling?” He took another step closer but stopped when you leaned away from his approach. He took a seat opposite you and extended the container in your direction.

“Yeah, I’m.. okay,” you replied with a shrug. “Thanks for the soup.” You took it from him, reaching across yourself awkwardly with a shaking hand, and rested it on your lap.

He took the moment of silence to get a better look at you. Behind your glasses, your eyes were swollen, as if you had been crying. Bucky watched you carefully maneuver the spoon and it wasn’t lost on him you were favouring your left hand. In fact, your right arm was barely moving.

“Do you need anything else? I could run to the pharmacy..” He trailed off as his eyes shifted to your coffee table, which was littered with an array of pill bottles. Mostly painkillers and what looked like a melting bag of frozen peas. And tucked under the table was… a half empty bottle of wine. Not exactly the type of self medication for a stomach bug or the common cold.

You closed your eyes, taking another taste of the soup before gently moving it to the table. “I think the worst of it has passed. Just.. tired now, I guess. I’ll be back at work tomorrow.” You smiled, just barely, then it disappeared as your eyes shut.

Bucky considered that the perfect opportunity to change the subject. Your name left his lips. It was quiet. You peaked one eye open to look at him.

“What happened last week?” he asked.

You laughed, though it came out quite empty. “Just five very intense, rigorous training days. I wasn’t great but.. I managed, I guess.”

Bucky cut to the chase, though he couldn’t predict your reaction. “So how come you’re not doing the final evaluation?”

A long sigh escaped you, rolling your eyes before leaning back again. You stared at the ceiling. “Should I just start adding you to all my correspondence with Sam?”

“Don’t be mad at Sam,” Bucky replied. “I asked him and he only told me because he was worried.”

You laughed again, with more of your body. The same emptiness remained and this time it seemed to cause you pain. You winced, swallowing an uncomfortable look on your face as you turned to peer at him. “I’m not mad at Sam. I’m mad at..” You shook your head. “At myself, I guess.”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter, alright? It’s over and I missed today and–”

“Sam offered to resch–”

“Bucky, it doesn’t matter!” You snapped this time, cutting him off.

Bucky shook his head. Something else was going on. He had never seen you like this before - despondent and… broken. Sure, your friendship had rarely escaped the walls of work but the foundation between you both was solid. He had seen your ups and downs, and you had seen his too - recalling bad dates and ranting about missions and laughing over lunch and all of it.

He knew you. The person sitting across from him, it wasn’t you.

“Sweetheart, please tell me what’s going on.”

Your eyes were closed again, head shaking. “Nothing is..” Your lip trembled. “Maybe you should just go..”

Bucky stood from the couch, but he didn’t move to the door. Instead, he crouched right in front of you. “If that’s what you really want, I’ll go, okay? I’d never stay if you didn’t want me here. But you opened that door for me. You could have already sent me away, soup in hand. I’m here right now because I care about you.” He said your name again, like a plea for you to look at him. “I can help, okay? Whatever is going on, I can help. Let me help, please.”

Your breath picked up, intertwined with winces of pain as you adjusted on the couch. You crossed your legs then moved your arms carefully, using your left hand to tear away your sweatshirt. Finally, you opened your eyes and extended your right arm to Bucky.

Despite being wrapped in a compression bandage, the swelling was evident on your fingers. Bruises littered your hand too and continued upwards to your t-shirt line.

Bucky dropped to his knees, looking from your face down towards your arm. He whispered out your name, desperately trying not to fill in the blanks without getting more information from you. “What happened?”

You simply shook your head, swallowing whatever response was trying to escape.

“Can I–” He motioned to your hand, cautiously reaching for it. You didn’t move, allowing him to unwrap the bandaging. You winced at the touch and change in pressure, eyes clamping shut again as you breathed deeply.

Bucky skated his fingers along the side of your forearm, down towards your wrist and hand. Light shades of purple and blue decorated your skin but the swelling was what concerned Bucky the most.

“I’m worried something is broken.” You finally said quietly, letting out another groan of pain as Bucky flipped your hand over to assess the underside.

He wanted to reply with ‘yeah, no shit’ but figured that wouldn’t be helpful. If you hadn’t sought out medical attention by now, there was probably a good reason. You were smart, a nurse who could easily figure out her own symptoms. But something was stopping you. Embarrassment, guilt.. Maybe fear?

Bucky was gentle as he held your hand. Christ, his mind was racing. “What happened? Did you fall? Did something go wrong last week?”

You shook your head.

Although there was one giant fucking obvious glaring answer to his next question, Bucky wanted to hear your response. Maybe you had fallen or dropped something on it this weekend. Maybe you had crushed it between a door or something, anything else than someone hurting you. Because the thought of anyone doing that, inflicting any intentional harm –

Bucky sucked in a breath and looked back at you. Your lower lip was already trembling again. He had to ask. He didn’t want to, but he fucking had to.

“Sweetheart, who did this to you?”

“I should have walked away, Bucky. I..” You immediately trailed off, head shaking again as you tried to collect yourself.

With you, Bucky would be patient. He would always be patient. A few moments ticked by as he waited, still holding your injured hand in his.

“It was supposed to just be a routine scenario, a test sort of thing I guess. But he was… he was volcanic. The anger erupted and he - he.. Bucky, I was just doing my job, it’s not my fault his friends lost theirs an-and he got so mad. I tried to get away but he just kept going.”

He said your name quietly. “Take a deep breath for me, okay?” You did, breathing in tandem with him a few times as you steadied yourself. “You’ve gotta tell me a name, please.”

After another deep breath, you nodded. “It was Boone.” You closed your eyes. “I think he’s taking drugs, steroids–again and he just.. I shouldn’t have engaged him at all. And I tried to get away once I realized he was freaking out..”

Bucky stilled, lips pulled into a straight line. “Hey, look at me.” He waited for you to meet his gaze. “This isn’t your fault.” God, he wanted to say so much more but the simmering anger below the surface was bubbling up. And that wasn’t important. You needed an x-ray and real medical attention. Then, maybe he could face the rage coursing through his bones. “Sweetheart, we’ve gotta get this looked at, okay?”

Reluctantly, your head shook. “I know. I just.. I don’t want to have to go to urgent care and explain what happened. I should have already gone and I feel so stupid about the whole thing and-and–”

He placed his free hand on your knee to stop you. “Okay. It's okay. I think I know where we can go. Let me make a few phone calls.”

---

PART 2

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #protective bucky barnes #story: electric touch

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chandralia · 7 months ago

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Toga saying she loves both boys and girls explicitly, that she loves differently, was ridiculed/abused for FOR loving differently, saying she wanted to be like people around her instead. Twice suggesting her villain name be Carmilla? (THE FIRST LESBIAN VAMPIRE)

Ochako calling herself strange for wanting to save Toga, reaching out and leveling, speaking in a way only Toga can understand, telling her she’s the cutest girl in the whole world, and offering to give Toga her blood for the rest of her life??

Deku saying “I’ve spent my life chasing after you,”“you’re my image of victory,” that he “can’t imagine a world in which kacchan doesn’t exist,” “kacchan and everyone else” over and over again, LOSING HIS MIND WHEN ONLY KATSUKI’S INJURED, being told to control his heart three times (COUNT THEM: THREE) over Katsuki?? Kudou having to use Katsuki to motivate Deku? “their feelings become one” just from locking eyes…???? Deku’s world shifting when Katsuki’s alive again, looking at him in awe (the way he’s only ever looked at him).

Katsuki risking his life for Deku repeatedly, thinking of only him before death, having to imagine Deku in danger to further his quirk, being targeted because he’s the closest to Deku (VERBALLY STATED BY SHIGAFO), avoiding medical care at every turn to get to Deku, always reminiscing about their past, A MISSED HANDHOLD, imagining their future together and breaking down crying in front of Deku at the possibility of that being ripped from him, saying he wanted them to keep doing this forever?

“that’s just how shonen is, everyone’s gay but no one’s canon” SHUT UP PLEASE. we quite literally do not know what Hori is or isn’t allowed to do. He’s been vocal about fighting for what he wants in his story, and even if it is an executive or editor saying “no you can’t do this” look what he’s managed to do so far.

not to mention THREE canon trans characters, toga correcting overhaul at misgendering. kendo saying “I just want to be me” when talking about gender, the entire side plot with discrimination and people fighting for acceptance, Hori reading and approving all the stuff that happens in the light novels/team up missions, AND thanking/praising those authors for knowing his characters so well.

His assistant (nstime23) openly shipping bkdk, drawing fanart of them, blatantly using their ship name, WHILE STILL BEING MUTUALS WITH HORI.

and the reception???

Hori does not live under a rock. It’s not an “oopsie he made it gay on accident” thing, and it’s not done maliciously either.

sharing what I’ve said before because I’m tired:

#I haven’t ranted like this in a while but YEAH #queer-coding is NOT queerbaiting.#a lot of these aren’t even coding they just ARE queer lol #bkdk #dkbk #bakudeku #dekubaku #:’)#ktdk #togachako

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pomefioredove · 16 days ago

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Can I have number 20 sugar cookie with marshmallows and chocolate chips?

malmal... I've missed him

order #20, sugar with marshmallow and chocolate chips

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ something untrue

tropes: roommate AU, fake dating characters: malleus additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu

In your defense, it was only one lie.

Just one, insignificant, little white lie!

And you thought Malleus would understand. That one boy from potionology just wouldn't give it up, following you around, grabbing at you, asking you out no matter how many times you said no.

He had cornered you, demanded a reason you wouldn't go out with him, and you had panicked.

Just one lie.

It wasn't so unbelievable- you and Malleus already spent so much time together- and even if it was, the boy was too shaken to say it.

He hasn't bothered you since.

You had washed your hands of the whole affair, and then patted yourself on the back for your thinking.

Guilty as you felt for using your closest friend as jerk-repellent, it was only one lie, and Malleus wouldn't even know!

...But... apparently...

Everyone else would.

That little jerk told his little jerk friends about it, and they told theirs, and one of them told his lab partner, who told Cater, and now...

...Well, now, you're "dating" Malleus.

He just doesn't know it yet.

And it's made your temporary living situation in Diasomnia a little awkward. For you, anyway.

"Pleasant evening," Malleus says, looking at the foggy sky. Not a single star, and yet he's just as enchanted.

You nod, tongue-tied and quiet.

You had invited your friend on this walk to talk to him about the lie, and now you can't even talk at all.

"You're quiet. Is something bothering you? Are you cold?"

Malleus is looking at you now. Your eyes avoid his, and you pretend to admire the crumbling, mossy stone wall you're walking along.

"...No,"

"Are you feeling unwell?"

"No,"

"We can turn back, if you would like,"

You bite your tongue. You're grateful he doesn't bother with technology or gossip. The rumors haven't yet reached him. Malleus is, somehow, the very last person to know that you are "dating".

"I'm alright. Just... uh, thinking about potionology class,"

Which is sort of true, in a confusing way.

"I see. Are you struggling?"

You sigh. "Yes," with more than just that.

"Hm. Perhaps we can study together," you meet his eyes again. He's smiling. It's sweet. "It would be my honor to assist you in whichever way I can."

He's sweet.

You can't keep lying to him.

You swallow your fear, and look at him, refusing to let yourself shy away now.

"Malleus," you say, firmly. "A few weeks ago I... said something untrue about... you. I shouldn't have. And I'm very sorry. I know it's wrong to lie, and I shouldn't have done it, but- well, I told someone that you and I are-"

You hesitate.

"-romantically... involved. Dating. It came out before I could stop it, it just feels- felt right- I-I'm sorry."

He stops. And for a long moment, he says nothing.

You can only imagine what's going on behind those piercing green eyes. Is he mad? Is he offended? Is he hurt? Have you just completely ruined your bond with the only friend here that loves you unconditionally-

"Child of man," Malleus says, his tone soft but serious. You feel a chill go up your spine.

"...Yes, Malleus?"

Again, he says nothing. Though, this time, he only seems to be looking for the right words. He cradles his chin in his palm, looking at you with softened eyes but a raised brow, both gentle and confused.

And then, he speaks.

"Are we... not already dating?"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #malleus draconia x reader

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aealzx · 1 month ago

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_______________________

Update Post

Prologue | AO3

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_______________________

The excursion in the Batcave hadn't set Danny’s recovery back as much as he'd thought it would, which he was grateful for. He’d missed dinner that day, having slept through it after they had given him additional medication to keep his fever under control. But the next morning he'd still been able to join a few people for breakfast, even if it was a little later than most. It was also a little quieter than usual, with the heavy topic from the previous afternoon weighing on people’s minds.

“...Are you sure you’re still feeling better?” Jazz asked, noting how Danny was absently nibbling on the toast he had with a light cream cheese forgotten on the side.

“Hm?” Danny voiced, twitching his head to look at her before fully registering what she’d asked. “Yeah, I’m okay,” he assured, giving her a brief smile. She didn’t seem convinced though, so he gave her a little more. “I’m just lost in thought, Jazz. Yesterday was… a lot.”

“You mean the part about Raven saying you were probably murdered?” Jason asked, strangely having stayed at the manor that night and stuck around that morning. Cass had ended up starting a hushed conversation that he had adopted these kids as his responsibility since they had shown up closest to his usual patrol grounds, but he wouldn’t comment on it.

“Yeah… Yeah that’s probably the big thing,” Danny agreed with a grimace. Man this guy was blunt. But, also maybe the best one to be commenting about something like this. There were a lot less people around too, maybe it was safe for him to satiate his earlier curiosity. “...I guess out of everyone here you’d … probably understand the most?” Wait, Danielle had said Jason had died before, but she hadn’t said it was murder. “U’unless it was something else that…” Okay this was a lot more awkward than he thought it would be.

“...No, you’re right. I was… murdered,” Jason confirmed, toying with his own cereal for a moment. “But it wasn’t anything crazy magical like you. Just a crowbar and bomb. That and we all know the guy that did it. Piece of shit.”

“Oh…,” Danny responded quietly, thankful that Jazz was decidedly staying quiet and allowing them to converse. “I don’t… Hm… I’m not sure which one I’d prefer honestly,” he admitted with a weak chuckle. “I mean, electrocution is no fun, hurts like a bitch, but… But at least it wasn’t drawn out.”

“...That’s a fair point,” Jason agreed, “I imagine it’s not the part that’s got you so distracted though.”

“...... No… It’s not,” Danny confirmed, lowering his toast as his brows pressed together in smothered guilt. “I…” It was hard to say it aloud, but of anyone he felt like Jason wouldn’t judge him for his thoughts. “S’she said that someone who was there would’ve had to have had the desire to s’sacrifice me or whatever. A’and at the moment I was more angry that she would imply that Clockwork had lied to me, that I - that something had happened that took away my ability to choose. But also… I don’t like what it implies about…”

Jason was quiet as he listened patiently for Danny to voice his thoughts, the words confirming ideas he’d had as well as keying him in on what was bothering Danny. But when he fell quiet before being able to finish voicing his concern Jason filled in what he could guess the worry was. “About who was there with you…?” he half asked, half stated.

Danny flinched when that fact was put in the open, but now that it was it made it easier to add details. “...Sam and Tucker were the only ones there with me.”

“Oh!” Jazz suddenly burst, raising her hands in realization and reaching over to grab Danny, “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry, we forgot to tell you!”

“What? What!?” Danny sputtered, startled by his sister’s outburst.

“Sam asked Raven about that last night before they left. She was worried that her and Tucker being there could have been seen as them trying to murder you, but Raven said they couldn’t have just been present, they would have had to know about the sacrifice being a payment for the ritual kind of thing and clearly had the intention to kill you,” Jazz rambled quickly. “Sorry! I didn’t think that was what had you so distracted. We were going to tell you last night when you woke up, but you slept through the night.”

Danny had to stare at Jazz in silence while that whirlwind of facts got smashed into his brain. So they had already cleared up that Sam and Tucker hadn’t accidentally murdered him, but forgot to tell him? Well, it was only a few hours later, so maybe he shouldn’t be upset. At least it clarified for certain that his friends hadn’t secretly wanted to kill him. But then it brought him back to the major question that had yet to be answered. “Then who did?!”

That one Jazz didn’t have an answer to, and reluctantly let Danny go to helplessly raise her hands in a shrug. “I don’t know? Maybe no one did? I mean- Mom and Dad couldn’t possibly have accidentally done magic, right?” she attempted with a weak laugh, betraying her own discomfort with the idea that their parents had accidentally done something more dangerous than they’d ever thought.

“No, I think they did,” Danny countered easily, a little miffed.

Jason raised a brow after that, curious what else Danny had realized. “Care to elaborate?” he asked, half because he wanted the answer and half to give Jazz a chance to process what Danny had said.

Danny did not actually want to elaborate, he didn’t want to pull up memories of that afternoon again. But he did realize it was important, and therefore forced himself to answer. “The portal… After drawing that diagram out yesterday, and remembering some things, I realized Raven… might have some merit to what she’s saying,” he admitted, pouting a bit reluctantly since he’d been so ready to discredit her before. “The portal didn’t turn on when I went inside it. It was when I put my-... put my hand on the wall. There was a switch that I knocked, and I realized… it was located at one of the concentration points I drew on the diagram. So I probably completed the circuit by accident, and made it so the stupid ritual thing was complete,” he explained, absently raising his left hand as he recalled the memory.

“...Oh….,” Jason grunted, having not expected that. So this kid’s parents probably really had accidentally mixed science with magic, and Danny had ended up half killed because of it. But despite that, Jason was curious. “Okay… so maybe someone did want to kill you, maybe they actually didn’t. It really sounds like happenstance from what I’ve heard. Does it matter if someone wanted to kill you?” He already knew the answer, but he was curious if Danny would surprise him and actually admit it didn’t matter.

“Of course it matters!” Danny sputtered, bringing a fist to the table. “I want to punch them in the face for ruining my life for the past two years! Do you know how hard it is to get into NASA? I just wanted to be an astronaut and go to space - the literal coolest thing ever to exist - but now my grades are shit and I’m barely passing highschool because of all these ghosts and people think I’m stupid because of it!”

Jason couldn’t help it. After staring at Danny with slightly wide eyes in shock at the outburst, Jason couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. Though part of it was because Tim had just walked into the dining room and nearly dropped his plate of breakfast and cup of juice after also being startled at Danny’s outburst. Danny was about to get cross with Jason for laughing, but only spared him the lecture when he also noticed Tim there.

“Oh- Sorry- I didn’t mean to startle you,” Danny apologized quickly.

Tim just sighed, grateful only a little of the juice had spilled onto the floor. “It’s fine, just give me your napkin,” he directed, setting his breakfast on the table and reaching out for the requested object. Once he had it, wiping up the spilled juice was a quick task, and he was sinking into the chair next to Danny with another sigh. “You’re not stupid, by the way. If you really need the academic records for the job you want, just test out. I’m sure you’ll be fine, and get flying colors. I can get you a study packet if you want,” he commented casually, taking a large bite out of a sausage.

Not only was the comment unexpected, but it also sounded like a flat out lie from someone who had no idea what it was like to struggle at school. “...Yeah, sure. I’ll get right on that,” Danny scoffed sarcastically, going back to nibble on his toast.

“Danny…,” Jazz hushed gently, sympathetic and immediately ready to comfort him.

“I’m serious,” Tim enforced before she could say more. “Well, I dunno how you are with english or something like that, but you’ve got great math and science aptitude.”

Danny just stared at Tim incredulously, not buying it.

So Tim threw a hand in the air and rolled his eyes. “You just recreated a complex concept schematic from memory within a 90 to 95% accuracy range on the measurements and functions, while high on morphine and fever,” he pointed out. “Also, if you’re any good at being a vigilante like everyone has been implying, you’ve got to have great problem solving skills. And that’s hard to teach.”

Danny was now openly staring in surprise, because he hadn’t realized he’d done anything that Tim said. At least, not when phrased in that manner. It wasn’t like he could discredit Tim’s words either, they had all been there as he’d drawn the schematic. “I…” He should probably say something, but he couldn’t think of a single response other than to stare blankly in surprise at the table in front of him.

It caused Tim to sigh again, slumping into his hand and rubbing his brow. “Honestly, if there’s anything you’re dumb in it’s self awareness. I’d switch out a dozen of the interns in engineering for you in a heartbeat.”

Okay, so maybe Tim wasn’t actually pulling his leg, or trying to prank him. If Danny’s cheeks weren’t already red from illness they would definitely be from embarrassment as he shyly sank down in his chair.

Jason laughing that hard wasn’t helping either.

_________________

Okay I'm gonna fully admit this chapter was unplanned and full of stuff I actually didn't think I'd get to include 'cause I just could not figure out how to naturally include them in conversation in the previous chapter or any future scenes I could think of at the moment. But then I started working on this next chapter and within the first paragraph was like '......oh..... oh it all fits rather nicely right here actually. |DDD'

So that was fun XD

And then this took awhile to actually post because I hyper fixated and wrote about 11,000 words for this fic of just scattered, disconnected scenes for future chapters all the way to about the end @ v @ I'm excited.

In other topics, I had a request/question if Conner Kent would show up, and I wouldn't mind giving him a cameo, but I am very confused about what his personality is like. 8'DD Can someone info dump on me about him and his relationship with other characters? There's one that had a black t shirt with the superman symbol and he's like this angsty angry guy that I honestly don't find all that interesting and would be hard to write. But then there's this flashy leather jacket flirty boy with a different flavor of angst and fun that I find a little more interesting. But I'm curious what the DPxDC fandom seems to favor more. Are Conner and Clark dad and son relationship? Does Conner get along with Jon? He's friends with Bart, Tim and Cassie yeah? Feel free to link me to google docs, or recommend movies or comics to me |D This boy is a little harder for me to figure out than the other characters.

___________

Tag list: @galaxy-sharks-and-bottled-ships, @starscreamlover, @nerdynonnativenarnian, @dragongoblet, @megacharizardx99

@bellathecatastrophe, @cj-ghostemoji-destielpie, @asexual-insomniac, @wolfeyedwitch, @tkiesai,

@fanaroff, @raven1508, @nebulainajar, @serasvictoria02, @oliocelottafanfics,

@honeysuckletook, @omniithe-deer, @wolf-under-the-stars, @gingernutcalo, @that-random-fangirl,

@op-sys-chaos, @kirasigncomics, @ehobep, @paranoid-ira

#my art #writing #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #phantom rogues #long post #mentions of death #trauma #mention of murder

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kryptznnn · 2 months ago

Text

♡- Between Us

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

➸ INTERESTS; - na'vi!neteyam x fem!omatikayan reader

➸ BACKGROUND; - You and Neteyam were completely polar opposites. He was hardworking, focused, careful, and of course responsible, as he was to be the future oletekayan of your people. You however were reckless, careless, and lived your life to the fullest; you were free, and he admired that from you. Whether it was your strong heart and spirit or your carefree lifestyle, something was drawing him towards you. How will things go once he realizes your sudden closeness with his younger brother and distance between your relationship with one another?

➸ WARNINGS; - wc.3.4k, fluff, heated tension, kissing, idk couple shit, oneshot

➸a.i; - back w another banger !! gotta say thank u to consistency and not procrasinating as a uni student!!

ˋ°•*⁀➷ˋ°•*⁀➷ˋ°•*⁀➷

You stood and watched from afar with your closest friend; Kiri, as her older brother was in the forest, on a 'date' as his father had described it with a girl around your ages.

The situation was humorous honestly, as you were all a group seated by the lakes in the village, she approached Neteyam, introducing herself and her interest in him and wanted to get to know him more as she expressed her interest in him.

You couldn't quite remember her name, Cela't probably. Honestly, she had earned your respect, her boldness was admirable and flattering, obviously taking everyone by surprise. Of course, you and Lo'ak shared your 'oohs' to which Neteyam had rolled his eyes, gotten up moving elsewhere with her and talked to her more in private.

You watched as they said their goodbyes to one another, but not without a hug being shared, to which you eyed Kiri, and she did the same to you. Right after she walked off, he shook his head, waiting for her to reach a distance far enough before he cupped his hands over his mouth.

"You guys can come out now! I know you're here" He shouted, you froze and looked over to Kiri yet again, she only shrugged. Before you were able to make your appearance Lo'ak and Spider peered out from the bushes a few feet beside you.

Well, it seems as if you two weren't the only people with nothing to do and were curious to where this date would lead too. They walked over to Neteyam, sharing laughter and stupid jokes, then small talk. You took it as the perfect opportunity to walk in, you quickly grabbed Kiri's hand and walked over to the boys.

"Soo how did it go?" You asked, standing in front of Neteyam, who was partially surprised to see you and his sister, both with large smiles plastered on your faces with eager eyes awaiting his answer. He placed a hand over the back of his neck and shrugged.

"She's nice and respectful, I think you guys would like her, she said she's willing to meet you all." He said hesitantly, looking at everything else other than your eyes, he physically couldn't meet your gaze.

In all honesty, he never wanted to go out with her to begin with, he didn't want to get to know her, what she likes, how she feels about certain things, how many family members she had, none of it. He had no reason to explore and go out to see other women when he had already had his mind set on who he wanted.

He wanted you.

Neteyam knew who he was from a very early age, and everyone else did too. He was collected, but also compact, whenever he had his mind made up nothing could change it. So, when he had his mind made up on you it made things all the more difficult to be around you. He'd rather save himself from the awkwardness of it all.

"Buuuuuuuuuuuut" Lo'ak added, poking his brother in the arm who quickly swatted his hand away.

"But I don't think we'll go anywhere further than being friends, I don't see her in that way" Neteyam responded, now folding his arms with a hint of guilt on his face, you scoffed and shook your head.

"Why not!! She's pretty, tall, nice, and she seemed to really like you, friend zoning her is crazy!" You said, throwing your hands up in the air, the others nodded their heads in agreeance. Followed by Spider and Lo'ak calling him a 'skxawng' as you and Kiri laughed in response.

"Because he likes someone else, duhh! Like so deeply madly in love, I mean it's written all over his fac-" Lo'ak cut himself off, slapping his hand over his mouth wide-eyed. Spider and Kiri both shushed him as you looked to them all in confusion with your mouth agape.

Neteyam froze and gritted his teeth at Lo'ak, who repeatedly apologized over and over for his stupid slip up. So, it was true, you were surprised of how blind you were to not even realize it.

He liked someone else,

he was in love with someone else

madly in love.

You took a deep sharp breath and said your goodbyes to the group, quickly turning around and walking away making your way back to your family's hut, tears threatening to pry out your eyes and soak your face. Lo'ak quickly pushed past the others and caught up to you immediately knowing something was up, speed walking side by side with you.

"Damn you walk fast as hell hold on" he said, grabbing your arm attempting to slow you down, you just shrugged him off and rolled your eyes. You stopped walking and turned to look at him, eyeing back to the group and especially Neteyam.

"Don't make things more awkward than they already are" you whispered to him, then grabbing his hand and walking further away from the group deeper into the forest. Lo'ak immediately understood the reason as to why.

Their father had raised each of them to have keen eyes, as something he learned back in his days when he lived with the sky people; 'lip-reading' is what it was called, and honestly you didn't like it. It was useful at certain times of course you couldn't complain, but you hated how much of an invasion of privacy it felt like.

Where you two hid the group could still see you, well more specifically Neteyam, who hadn't removed his eyes off of you since you had turned to walk away.

"I can't see what they're talking about, Lo'aks' back is facing here" he spoke, irritation in his voice. Kiri only shook her head as Spider attempted to pat his shoulder, to which he couldn't really reach towards their height difference and patted his back instead.

Neteyam was more or so surprised at first, seeing you and Lo'ak spend most of your time together, you were Kiri's best friend, and it was sure Lo'ak already had his own.

He tried to pry a reaction out of sister of course, asking if it had bothered her how much time you and Lo'ak have spent together the past couple of days. Of course, to his dismay she only shrugged and said she didn't mind, and it was almost destined for the two of you to become close in such a short period of time.

You two were just another version of one another in all honesty. Same personality, same integrity, same attitude, and same careless free living. This saddened Neteyam, he always wondered whenever you were alone with just him were you ever that happy, and what is it that Lo'ak had that he didn't.

Your positive attitude and confidence is what made him realize what he felt for you. At first it was admiration, which he explained to his father on their early fishing trips before his maturing stage. The way he described you and how his face lit up his father could already tell where this was headed, but he just told him they'd have this topic of conversation when he was older in nearly a decade.

Now when he described you, he was unable to hide his smile and bashful face. As he spoke in a loving tone all it took was Neytiri and Jake to share a glance to know what Neteyam was feeling.

It was love, and not just any ordinary family, or platonic friendship kind of love. It was a romantic kind of love, the kind of love he described that he 'wasn't able to see anyone else beside him other than you' kind of love, and he's felt like this ever since.

"Y/n, seriously, you need to talk to him" Lo'ak spoke, placing his hands on your shoulders, you only shook your head.

"And say what exactly?? You're insane!! 'Hey, I really like you and have had a crush on you for a while, but I just found out that you like someone else. I just wanted to get my confession out of the way and move on bla bla.'" You shouted in a whisper, making a fake talking hand to mock yourself and Lo'aks' idea, he sucked his teeth.

"It's not what you think okay? Just give it a shot please, you're in over your head you won't get rejected." He yelled in a whisper back to you, you rose a brow confused by his words, what did he mean you wouldn't get rejected?

Unless if

"Neteyam has feelings for me?" You asked, Lo'ak just gulped, nodding his head then cursing at himself. "So, you knew this whole time about us both and didn't say anything?" You asked again, now becoming upset by his actions, feeling played. Lo'ak threw his hands up in a way of surrender shaking his head.

"It wasn't my business to tell, it still isn't, which is why it's so important you two talk okay?? I thought the closer we got the easier it would be for either of you to just jump off the bat and say something, but no one has, so go." He said, placing his hands down and on over your shoulder, completely unaware that the others had all left to return back to their hut, all except Neteyam of course.

You smiled at Lo'ak, moving shortly to the side then giving him a large hug and thanking him, before walking back to the site everyone was, hand in hand.

You quickly let go of Lo'ak and walked over to Neteyam, a big cheerful smile on your face as you grabbed his hand. He wore a sad expression on his face seeing the short moments of intimacy between you and his younger brother.

Neteyam was used to the expression of jealousy, he's worn it before and has seen what it does to other people, but it wasn't what he was feeling now. Right now, he felt pain and betrayal, from you and more importantly his brother, who knew how he felt. Now thinking it was some sort of competition or challenge now for love, for his love, and it felt like he was losing.

"We must go, I have something important to tell you, let's go to the hallelujah mountains, niwin." [quickly] You spoke with excitement, now pulling Neteyams hand, he straightened his sad expression and looked over to his younger brother who was preparing to part his ways back to the hut as well. Giving his brother a thumbs up and winking, mouthing the words 'you got this bro' before leaving.

Neteyam's head had now turned back to you, who was leading him through the opposite of the forest towards where the ikran's rested. He took this initiative too truly examine your face and excitement radiating off of your body. It reminded him of when you two were children, always doing things you weren't supposed too, sneaking around late at night to the hallelujah mountains or special spots underneath the tree of souls.

He was always left in amazement by how you created the most beautiful or adventurous things out of nothing, or maybe your caring and sweet personality when it came to interacting with children such as his youngest sister. Every single thing you did drew him towards you, and he could hardly understand what went through your mind, but that's what he liked the most, the fact you were unreadable.

"We should go to our favorite spot there c'mon, wake up your ikran so we can go" you whispered in a frenzy, practically buzzing all over. He only laughed softly while looking at you, letting go of your hand and petting his ikran softly, whistling to it while you looked up at the night sky and the stars from above, shining so brightly.

He slowly walked over to you, placing his hand out for you to take before making your way to his ikran, stepping on slowly after he was seated, sitting behind him and placing your hands around his torso, holding him tight.

He only smiled, deep down missing this feeling. The scent of you and the feeling of your head resting on his back while your hair tickled his upper back and lower neck as you two flew into the night sky to the hallelujah mountains.

Truth be told, through the entirety of this your heart was racing. How could it not, you were excited, anxious, concerned and confident. All of your emotions mixed so quickly you couldn't tell which one you were feeling. You were also worried that Neteyam would've been able to hear your heart beating out of your chest, so you took a deep breath to keep your composure.

"Is this 'serious talk' about what you and my brother were talking about? In the forest earlier?" He asked, turning his head slightly to the side to see you, you propped your head up and turned to him, resting your chin on his left shoulder.

"Uh yeah, kind of? It's a long story, but um.." you lead on, not sure what to say next. You didn't want everything to come out now, you wanted to wait for the perfect timing. "All I can say is that it's about how I feel, and you can't know until we get to our destination." You said proudly, slipping a quick joke of how you wished you could pat yourself on the back, to which he laughed at.

ˋ°•*⁀➷ˋ°•*⁀➷ˋ°•*⁀➷

You walked over to the small cave you and Neteyam had explored as children, claiming it as your own. You had cleaned it and decorated it with one another of treasures you had gotten from each of your adventures and your several 'near death' experiences from being so reckless. Fortunately, Neteyam was there every single time to save you, to where you two would laugh about the matters afterwards.

"Za'u, niwin, we have to clear the air." [come, quickly,] You spoke, grabbing a large cloth and draping it over yourself to stay warm, as you gave another one to Neteyam, to which he thanked you and smiled in return.

He wasn't sure if you could tell, but his heart was beating loudly, and quite harsh, as if ready to burst out of his chest. He kept fidgeting his fingers, and trying to steady his breathing, but his mind was rushing to millions of questions.

Were you going to tell him about his brother? Did you like his brother? Did you know he liked you? Did you know how much he likes you? Is something wrong with you? Your family?

His heartbeat was ready to deafen him, thumping so hard in his ears he genuinely believed his brain was beginning to ring as well.

"I've wanted to talk to you for such a long time now, I always pictured how this would go or what would lead up to this moment, but I never thought it would happen this way.." you stared, smiling to yourself as you picked up one of the shells Neteyam had brought here a few years back off the walls of the cave and fidgeting with it.

Maybe he would've felt something was off with you or your confession, or not believe what you were to tell him as you were the first person to encourage him to go on his date with someone else. If you really like someone you wouldn't push them to go find something in someone else, they wish to see in you, that's obvious enough.

You licked your lips and swallowed, parting your lips to speak, but hesitate.

Just spit it out, spit it out

"I've thought about us, and our friendship for a while Nete..." You said, still keeping your eyes locked onto your hands and your new 'toy' that helped you relax your nerves a little. Stopping the pounding coming from your head and hands, which were previously trembling. "I feel drawn to you, in a way I can't really explain. I do love being your friend, and I love all of the memories we've shared with one another, but I feel like there's something else there." You spoke with your eyes shut, now no longer fidgeting your fingers. Your cheeks had flushed madly to a point only Eywa would know, you felt your entire body tense up and heat up.

It's over, you did it, you spat it o-

Your thoughts were cut off by a pair of lips meeting yours, snapping out of your trance you open your eyes to only see Neteyam pulling back from you, wetting his lips. Your mouth was left agape, you didn't expect this to happen.

"I'm in love with you Y/n, I have been since we were children, even before we found this cave and stashed all of our memories in here. I see a better version of myself through you, even though our personalities and responsibilities are complete opposites it's only drawn me to you more and more with each passing day. I don't think my feelings will ever change for you unless if they're getting stronger and honesty, I don't want them too. When I saw how often you'd be with L-"

You cut him off, removing your shawl and coming up closer to him, closing your eyes and kissing him passionately. You didn't want to hear anymore, you didn't want to keep talking or going around bouncing back and forth, you just wanted him. You wanted to hug him, kiss him, console him, hold him, love him, and you wanted him to do the same to you.

Before you were even able to pull an inch away, he had already dived back into action, placing a hand over the back of your head and upper neck, bringing your lips back to his and kissing you passionately. You could practically feel him smile through the kiss, making you smile as well.

Within seconds you two pulled away, both out of breath, hands over your chests trying to catch it. You placed a hand over Neteyam's chest, slowly climbing off of him as he watched you intently, placing a hovering hand over your back in case you toppled over.

You both looked at one another and smiled, then burst into laughter, hugging one another tightly. Although this confession hadn't gone how either of you predicted, the outcome was worth it.

"You cut me off, skxawng" [idiot] he joked, to which you chuckled, shaking your head and placing it against his broad chest.

"It's easier to show than tell, plus your speech was all sappy you would've made me cry" you added. You earned a chuckle from him as well as he wrapped his arm tighter around you.

Eventually after some time you two had accidentally drifted off to sleep, but only for a short time, as you jumped up and woke him, telling him it would probably be the best time to return back to the village as everyone else was probably worried, he nodded in agreement.

ˋ°•*⁀➷ˋ°•*⁀➷ˋ°•*⁀➷

"Tìfnunga, they might be asleep" [quietly] Neteyam spoke, placing his index finger over his lips, you nodded as you tip toed lightly along with him to the entrance of his hut, hand in hand.

He tugged your hand lightly, as you looked up at him, just to smile and feel your cheeks heat up. He slowly opened the flap entrance to find all of his family, and yours, seated inside eyes set on you both.

No words were shared at the moment, everyone's eyes glanced to you, then your lover, and then your interlocked fingers that couldn't be pried apart by anyone else no matter how hard they tried. Then they all looked at one another, nodding in agreement as you and Neteyam looked over to one another.

Then a sudden outburst of cheers began, everyone 'woo'-ing or clapping and calling out their battle cries out loud, you only shook your head and laughed, now hugging Neteyam's arm as he laughed as well.

"Thank Eywa it's about time you two returned we've been waiting forever!" Lo'ak spoke, throwing his hands up in the air as Kiri shook her head and pointed her thumb at him.

"This bigmouth told everyone you two were gone and that he had spoken to you, and said we have to celebrate when you come back" Kiri said, her index circling the room when she mentioned the word 'everyone', making Neteyam smile.

"The only time my baby brothers' mouth hasn't gotten me in trouble" Neteyam joked, pointing at Lo'ak than thanking him, who accepted his gratitude, then immediately scoffed after realizing his backhanded comment.

Now this is a life you could get used too, all you ever wanted with the person you've always wanted.

ˋ°•*⁀➷ˋ°•*⁀➷ˋ°•*⁀➷

✴🕷 please do not copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any works submitted by me. all works are originated and all other pictures used within those works are online images. thank you!! @kryptznnn

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dindjarindiaries · 1 month ago

Text

Risk & Reward

character: Hunter (The Bad Batch)

prompts: "Are you asking me out on a date?" / "I'm not drunk enough for this." / "I think you should kiss me."

warnings: alcohol/drunkenness

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

You couldn't understand why you had ever resisted coming here. For once, the boys had actually been right; 79's was the place to be between missions. And no, it definitely wasn't the alcohol talking.

How much had you had, anyway? Most of your glasses had already been taken away, and those that hadn't were starting to blur together...

You were mindlessly giggling at Wrecker jostling a disgruntled Crosshair around when a familiar, low voice cut through the noise in your isolated corner. "Alright, we've had our fun. Time to go."

You let out a long gasp and turned towards Hunter. His brow wrinkled with concern as his stare met yours, and your foggy brain could still process him checking you for signs of distress before you stumbled off your stool to approach him.

"Hunter!" You laughed and threw your arms around his neck, pulling him in for an embrace that, in this state, felt totally natural, despite the fact you had never, ever greeted him like this before. "Hi!"

"Uh..." Hunter politely tapped your back with both his hands, "hey."

"We missed you." You stepped back and patted his tattooed cheek twice. Hunter's brow shot up in response to the gesture. "Where've ya' been?"

Hunter's gaze flickered between you and the rest of the squad who stood behind you. "I've just been doing the rounds, keeping our relationship with some of the regs... amicable enough."

Doing sergeant duties on a night off? Yeah, that was classic Hunter behavior.

"Of course." You huffed and gave his shoulder a playful punch, but it barely made contact with your current lack of depth perception. "Do you ever just relax, Sarge?"

"That's a good point," Wrecker chimed in from behind you.

You whipped your head around to nod and point at him. "Exactly, Wreck, thank you!"

Hunter let out a heavy sigh, drawing your attention back to him—though his stare was on another one of his brothers. "Tech?"

All Hunter had to do was hold out his hand, and his brother provided him with his datapad. Tech pushed his goggles up his nose to hide his smile as Hunter read whatever was written on the vidscreen. He closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose. His free hand pinched the bridge of his nose as he handed the datapad back to Tech.

"And all of you let this happen?" Hunter reopened his eyes to stare vibroblades at his brothers.

"Who am I to set someone else's limit?" Crosshair sounded completely unaffected by his alcohol intake, even if the sly smile he wore was evident in his tone.

"That's another good point!" Wrecker added.

"I was too preoccupied with making note of everyone's intake," Tech responded. "It's fascinating, isn't it?"

A muscle in Hunter's jaw flexed. "Yeah, that's one word for it." He glanced at you and nodded. "We're gonna head back to the ship."

Hunter reached inside a pocket on his belt and set a hearty amount of credits inside Tech's outstretched palm.

"Pay the tab and meet us there when you're done." His brow furrowed at the three of them. "For your sake, make sure I don't have to come drag the rest of you outta' here."

Wrecker saluted. "You got it, boss!"

Hunter let his glare linger on them even as he set a hand on your back to guide you to his side. He then eased you forward, keeping his hand where it was until you were steady enough.

That moment never came.

Hunter's sigh was quieter than before as he slung one of your arms over his shoulders and wrapped the arm he had closest to you around your waist.

"I knew this was a bad idea," he muttered.

"Yeah, well, I used to say that too." You nudged him the best you could in your current position, which saw you practically resting all your bodyweight upon him. "But I'm glad I let 'em finally convince me, because I had fun! Do you know what that is, Hunt? Fun?"

Hunter huffed. "You're asking me that question?"

You shrugged. "I just really wish you'd been with us tonight." Your voice was low in your sudden embarrassment, which was dulled more than it should have been thanks to the haze that clung at the edges of your senses.

Hunter looked over at you before he let out a softer breath. "I'm sorry." His voice also lowered as he went on. "That's not the reason why you had so much, is it?"

You didn't say anything. Hunter took your silence as your answer, judging by the way he tightened his grasp on your waist.

After a few heartbeats, you spoke up again. "It's okay. You can make it up to me later by letting me take you back here. Just us."

Hunter's steps slowed beside you, but you didn't take much notice in your drunkenness. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

You bobbed your head. "Semantics." You spared a glance over at him and smiled. "Unless you have no problem with it, in which case, yes. Yes I am."

Hunter's gaze glittered with amusement and something else you couldn't catch in your haze, but his tone was dry. "I'm not drunk enough for this."

"Hmm. Shame." You giggled and swayed into him. "Could've fixed that if you actually stuck with us tonight."

Hunter at least chuckled at that. His hand on your waist gave it a pat as he nodded. "Next time."

You looked at him with wide, excited eyes. "So there will be a next time?"

Hunter raised an eyebrow at you. "Don't push it."

It wasn't much longer until Hunter was easing you up the steps of the Marauder. The drunken haze was beginning to morph into one of slumber, making your eyelids flutter as you leaned more and more into Hunter. He, of course, was unaffected by the additional weight.

But that didn't mean he wasn't going to comment on it. "Hey, you can't go to sleep yet."

You groaned dramatically and pressed your face against his armored shoulder. "Why?"

Hunter set you down in one of the chairs and headed towards the supplies. "Because." He reached into one of the crates and grabbed a canteen. "You need to drink a whole one of these first."

You wrinkled your brow as you took it from him. "Or else what?"

Hunter crossed his arms and stayed where he was, unshaken. "There isn't another option." He nodded at the canteen. "Drink it."

You narrowed your eyes even as you took your first big swig from the canteen. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and leaned back in the chair. "Can I at least get a reward for it?"

Hunter's brow rose. "For keeping yourself healthy?"

You rolled your eyes. "Whatever you wanna call this."

The corners of Hunter's lips started to rise as he humored you. "What did you have in mind?"

You stared at him, racking your mind for something as you drew another long sip from the canteen. But staring wasn't giving you an idea—at least, not an idea other than the deepest, darkest secret you weren't sure you wanted to confess right now. That was the thing about letting yourself loose, though. Those secrets were also going loose, too.

So, as you stared up at Hunter and studied the parts of him that had taken up permanent residence in your mind, you let that secret slip as if it was nothing more than an innocent suggestion.

"I think you should kiss me."

Hunter looked as if he was experiencing every single stage of shock all at once. His head whipped over his shoulder towards the open hatch of the Marauder, his senses no doubt reaching out to make sure you were still alone for the time being.

All the while, you continued drinking the water nonchalantly. He hadn't said no to your suggestion yet, so... if you kept drinking it...

"That's not a good idea."

You frowned as you returned Hunter's gaze. He was harder to read, now, his expression steeled the same way it was whenever he was trying to make a hard decision on or about a mission. It meant he was purposefully cloaking something from you, and seriously contemplating something.

But that didn't make the sting of his words any easier to take.

You deflated, and because everything was still running loose, you knew Hunter could tell. The canteen lowered in your grasp as your arm fell towards the floor.

Hunter knelt in front of you. "Not right now."

He was gentle as he took the canteen from you and brought it back to your lips himself. You followed his direction without much effort, tilting your head back to let him provide you with more hydration. Hunter continued his thought as he did so.

"Not like this."

You blinked innocently at him after you swallowed. "Like what?"

Hunter gave you a pitiful once-over. You winced in embarrassment.

His hand rose to your shoulder. "How about this. When you can actually walk on your own again, you can have the reward that you want." He mumbled the next part under his breath. "If you still want it then."

You perked up at that. "Really?"

Hunter nodded. "Really." He held up the canteen between the two of you. "But you have to finish this."

You snatched the canteen from him and chugged the rest of its contents. When you finished, Hunter's eyes were widened, and he released an impressed chuckle. You held out your arms to him.

"Help me walk to my bunk?"

Hunter huffed and nodded. The rest was a blur after that, but the memories of it all danced across your mind through the night until you woke again with your usual clarity—and a surprising lack of a hangover, thanks to the sergeant's insistence.

You swung your legs out of the bunk and stood. Only one other bunk was empty, making you smile as you easily walked your own way towards the cockpit.

Hunter swiveled in the pilot's chair to face you, hardly concealing a smile as he watched you close the distance over to him. You stood over his chair, crossing your arms as you gestured back towards the bunks.

"I walked here on my own."

Hunter rose an eyebrow. "You did." He sheathed the knife he'd been playing with before you walked in.

Your gaze flickered to his lips. "Can I have my reward?"

Hunter hummed thoughtfully and turned back to the controls. He lowered his hand over a button that caused the cockpit's door to close behind you, making you smile even before he stood to meet you where you were.

"It was well-earned."

And then his hands were on your face, his lips were on yours, and you were experiencing a whole different kind of drunkenness—one that was a million times better than any other.

#me: *has 1.5 drinks* me: it's time to write this prompt #tbb hunter #the bad batch #tbb hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #prompts #dindjarindiaries

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mind-intheclouds342 · 3 months ago

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Helping Daisuke!

(I don't know why but i think you all gonna think that the way i write its pretty funny and weird, it's just so different making it in spanish.

My first language isn't english and i'm trying my best doing this for the first time!

I hope that at least you can all enjoy it a little bit)

This is pure fluff

You thought you were going to have a horrible experience on that ship, but a light was there to brighten your days.

After finishing high school, you weren't quite sure how your life was going to keep going or what you were going to do.

Your parents were very worried about you, immediately urging you to do different things that only ended up putting more stress on you.

Until they achieved this, and you accepted, you needed to escape from them and have time for yourself.

You never imagined that one day you would reach space, it was something unreal for you.

The fact that they hire people with no experience at all it seemed so strange, but you didn't complain too much about it or think of it.

You ended up being Anya's intern, who was in charge of the nursery.

You liked her a lot, she was so calm and sweet with you, and you felt secure having another woman on the crew.

At the beginning of the trip, you were extremely focused on learning as much knowledge as possible from her, where the medications were located, CPR techniques, how to perform a routine check-up, and other things.

In any case, you kept a certain distance from others, feeling defenseless in front of everyone else since they were older than you and had the necessary experience to do their jobs, while you only felt like an intruder.

But not with him.

Daisuke had gone through a situation similar to yours, ending up as Swansea's intern, helping him with mechanical work.

But you two hadn't exchanged a word until that day…

Swansea: "Hey (Y/n), I need you to help me with something, and it would be better if you bring your emergency kit"

You had been alarmed immediately upon hearing the man call you, but you nodded to accompany him; he certainly looked upset, making you wonder what had happened.

Swansea: "I couldn't find Anya, you were the closest one to ask for help, because I need you to fix this idiot soon."

He mentioned, pointing at a Daisuke sitting on a box, thinking about what had happened.

You immediately noticed the drops of blood on the floor, you began to carefully examine the boy's body until you found that he had a piece of metal embedded in the palm of his hand.

You tilted your head, analyzing the wound for a moment; it wasn't large, the metal was cylindrical and of small diameter.

"How did that happen?"

Swansea: "Ask the fool, I don't wanna here, if I keep seeing him I'm going to smack him"

He ran his hand over his face in frustration before leaving.

You couldn't help but smile, noticing that he was truly worried about the boy.

You approached and sat down in front of him.

Daisuke looked up to see you, and his eyes soon began to search for something else to focus on.

"I'm going to need you to lend me a hand."

You said, extending your hands, hoping he would do the same.

Daisuke: "Really, it wasn't as stupid as the boss says! Seriously, I was doing something very, very important"

He began to speak nervously, to which you just kept staring at him, waiting for his hand. Defeated, he finally handed it to you.

"So, what was that totally not silly and super important thing you were doing?"

Daisuke: "As you can imagine! Swansea couldn't fix inside the ventilation ducts for obvious reasons! I wanted to help him and I climbed up! But… I fell and my hand got stuck as you can see… It was for a good cause!"

"Mmh"

You hummed, focused, watching the swelling around the metal, and touched the boy's fingers, making sure it hadn't pierced any tendons or bones.

Daisuke: "Does it look very bad? It doesn't hurt as much as you might think"

"It's going to hurt."

You warned him, leaving him confused, when you put on a glove and ripped the metal off, making him let out an extremely high-pitched scream.

Both of them stood there, surprised by how he had shouted, the boy immediately turning red.

"The good thing is that it didn't go through anything important, you were lucky."

You began to clean the wound carefully.

Daisuke: "Great… Great… Soooo… what things are you into?"

You raised your gaze curiously for a moment at his question.

Daisuke: "I need to talk to distract myself from the pain."

"What do I like?… Lemme see… I like watching series… Listening to music… Read… Normal things, I guess? Nothing extraordinary"

Daisuke: "Those are awesome things! What kind of series do you like to watch? Oh! What's your favorite music genre? I can teach you some awesome songs! Do you like movies? I love action movies! Ka-pow!"

You couldn't help but laugh a little at his enthusiasm while you were already bandaging his wound.

"You're going to have to take good care of yourself and we'll do some check-ups from time to time, okay?"

Daisuke: "You mean like dates?…….I mean! Medical! Medical dates!! Medical appointments?"

You were surprised by that and smiled at him, raising an eyebrow, starting to understand what all that nervousness was about.

"We can also have dates, if you like, although it will be difficult on the ship, but if you're okay with a day playing cards and watching the screen, then I think we can make it work."

Daisuke: "Are you serious??"

You could see how her entire face lit up with your suggestion.

"I'm not going to deny it, you're cute, and you're the only one my age, I feel much more comfortable with you."

Daisuke: "Eh-? Seriously, is that all you see??"

"…You have never spoken to me! How could I like anything else about you if I don't know you?"

Daisuke: "It's just that talking to girls makes me nervous… I was afraid of saying something that would make you think I'm an idiot-"

"Okay, so… What do you like about me?"

Daisuke: "…That you're my age… and you're pretty…"

You crossed your arms at his vague answer like yours.

Daisuke: "How handsome do you think I am? The most handsome one in the crew, am i rigth?"

He smiled, running his hand through his hair, making you laugh.

"The second one, I would say~ but Captain Curly is too old for me."

Daisuke: "I didn't want to know that! Lie to meeeee!"

He stayed, and you could only laugh more, to the point where you accidentally started to snort, covering your mouth trying to stop laughing.

Daisuke found that even more adorable and magnificent, his cheeks flushing even more, thinking that he might have a chance with such a sweet girl who laughs at his silly words and actions.

"Remember, no matter how much it itches, you mustn't scratch it, okay?"

You indicated to him after you had caught your breath and stopped laughing, you had to return to the infirmary to leave the emergency kit you had taken.

Daisuke: "Got it!"

He brought his hand to his forehead and smiled at you.

You returned the smile and approached him to leave a kiss on your cheek before leaving.

He stood in place for a few seconds before jumping up, shouting with joy, raised his hand wanting to high-five someone, but realizing he was alone, he high-fived himself.

Something he immediately regretted but it was worth it.

Anya: "Oh, (Y/n) was looking for you"

"I was helping Daisuke, he had hurt himself, here I bring the kit to put it back in place."

Anya: "Yes, it had a very nasty wound"

"…How do you know?"

Anya: "Well, I was the first to see it but Swansea suggested that you should see it to test what you've learned, I'm sure you did great."

You let out a chuckle upon hearing that, so Swansea took it upon himself to help you talk to each other, he really do cares about Daisuke.

#mouthwash #mouthwashing game #anya mouthwashing #mouthwashing #mouthwashing x reader #daisuke mouthwashing #daisuke x reader #swansea mouthwashing

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eluxcastar · 8 months ago

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Dottore giving child reader a check up

── ୨୧：il dottore & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: nobody scares you more than the Doctor, and that's why you're wholly betrayed by Father tricking you into getting a check up right under your nose, but perhaps your worries are exaggerated by rumours

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, child reader, he's a lil soft (cause if he's not poor kid might explode on site), reader is mute, reader is also autistic (but tbh you don't have to read it that way), not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 2.9k

idk what possessed me to write this I just has the thought and decided it had to be done. I got in the zone and wrote it in a few hours 😭 this is kinda loosely based off one of my characters but ambiguous enough I think to be read as a reader insert. little ball of anxiety with legs reader hehe. they come from the house of the hearth so every instance of father refers to arle

You can't think of a single person able to scare you nearly as much as the Doctor can, whether it's the daunting trip to find him wherever he hid this time or the fear of knowing he tried to bargain with Father to have the more unimpressive children—as some would call you—shipped off to him to become experiments.

Father won't allow him to get his hands on any of you, but it hardly eases the fear that he may disregard Father's warning and decide to pluck the first child he comes across up and feign ignorance when she realises they've disappeared.

Father personally entrusted you with this letter, so you cannot turn back as you make your way to where she said he should be.

The sleepiness might manage to numb you to the danger by the time you arrive and make it easier to stomach his presence, but most likely, he will only frighten you awake, and it will worsen with the shock to your system.

There's no turning back now and no declining when Father asks you to take letters, which she says are of great importance. You can't treat letters like this lightly, even if you fear the recipient.

Knowing who is behind it makes the door all the more daunting. Doors that separate you from Harbingers always make you nervous as it's not every day you find yourself faced with one armed only with a letter and shaking hands. If it were anyone else, you could've knocked in a heartbeat, but you pause to gather your bearings before raising your hand to knock.

One two, three…four. Spaced just as Columbina taught you to, and then you wait.

Several seconds pass in silence before you hear footsteps from inside, then a voice calling out to you. "The door is unlocked."

You reach for the handle, cautiously cracking open the door just enough to peek inside. Your eyes travel across the room from your left to your right until you spy Dottore seated in a chair facing away from you. He hears you, evident in the way he turns to look at you as you work up the courage to step inside and leave the door ajar behind you.

"It's you," he remarks, the closest to acknowledgment you expect to receive. You are about to make your way to hand him the letter when he interrupts you. "Close the door."

The door is always closed here like it's trying to keep someone out, but there's no one here that he would dread seeing who would knock and accept that the door is locked. He must not be trying to convince anyone of that, and if he was, maybe he'd lock the door for real and leave everyone stranded outside instead of talking.

Dottore makes you nervous. You don't know what he thinks or why, but you probably don't like it. It's the only reason why he would be here right now. Normal doctoring wouldn't get him far as a Harbinger, and the sounds you've heard coming from his lab are enough to deter you from wondering too much.

Instead, you quietly spin yourself around to push the door closed before returning to your endeavour of handing him this letter from Father she entrusted you with.

"Who is it from?" he asks, a question you remember him asking before too. You concluded that he's trying to gauge how eager he is to read it, and your answer will set his mood for the remainder of your stay.

You turn the envelope over to show him the seal on the back, which you hold out to him. The mark of the House of the Hearth—Father's seal—is displayed so that Dottore can glean the answer from wordless actions. He accepts it from your hand with a stifled eagerness, the hopes of something he'll enjoy written there held back by the knowledge that, in all likelihood, it's a trivial matter.

The moment the letter leaves your hands, you retreat to the safety of the door, where you stand beside the frame to await a half-hearted reaction or collect his response. Father is always happy when you return to the House to inform her that Dottore sighed when he read her letter, even if she regards the news with her usual stoicism. She despises when he bothers to send something back to her, but she never tells you why, as usual.

He collects something off his desk just out of your sight, hidden behind him, and the sound of paper tearing follows. He drops the twice-folded paper into his hand, then unfurls it to read the contents.

You wait in silence, nerves evening out as you rub the sleep from your eyes with the back of your hand. Sleepiness does help you occupy yourself if nothing else.

Then, you are interrupted by a snap of his fingers and a motion of his hand to usher you closer.

Keeping him waiting will only make him mad, though you're sure not enough time has passed for him to pen any cohesive message in the minute or two you spent waiting.

You look up in anticipation nonetheless, expecting him to hand you something or tell you something so when he reaches toward you, it doesn't alarm you.

Not until he grabs you beneath your arms, picks you up, and sits you down on the table, much closer to eye level with him.

"Arlecchino has her concerns about your sleeping habits and your seeming lack of will to speak," he begins, reaching behind you to grab something you barely follow before he has it in his hands. It's only a light, small and thinner than the torches at the House.

Your mind races with every question you can think of as you try to find a way off this table back to the floor, but the only way out is blocked by Dottore sitting in front of you, unsympathetic to the fear in your eyes when you stare at him. You could swear you hear your heartbeat thrumming in your ears in a quickened rhythm.

What was written in that letter? Was it about you? It takes only a brief glance down in search of the open letter to realise exactly what makes this delivery so important. Father tricked you into coming here to see the Doctor after you so eagerly declined her previous offer to go willingly. You catch glimpses of your name in Father's handwriting and little else as it blurs into a messy sea of details, but you always recognise how Father writes your name.

You know better than to assume this is punishment but rather the manifestation of Father's worry as you keep oversleeping lately and need one of the older children to fetch you from the comfort of your bed. The idea that habit would land you here, presumably getting a check-up, might've inspired you to prize yourself out of bed a little earlier had you known.

Dottore seems to gauge your trembling as an obvious sign of fear, though a twitch at the corner of his lips is your only indicator, as you can't see his eyes beneath the mask. "Her explicit concern was whether or not you're ill." He rests his hand against your knee— they're cold, yet you almost expect it. It doesn't mean you especially like it. You can only interpret the action as a skewed attempt to comfort you. "As long as you're healthy, I see no reason to keep you longer than a simple check up."

He's not a real doctor, is all you can think, and he doesn't know what he's doing.

You have no choice but to steel yourself for whatever pain you're about to be subjected to. It might hurt, but you have no way out, no way back to Father, so you can curl up in a ball at her feet and ask why she would subject you to this torture—

"Don't tense your jaw," you suddenly hear, realising his finger taps your knee to grab your attention back from dreamland. "Open your mouth," he instructs you, and rather simply at that. It's something you can follow without getting scared he'll hurt you somehow.

He shines that light at you, inspecting something, though you can't say what. A slight tilt of his hand and, by proxy, the light he's holding is your only sign he's looking at anything.

The light is off before you know it. There was no pain at all, not even a hint of discomfort beyond what naturally arises from your ever-present anxiousness.

Dottore moves to set the light beside you, then appears to change his mind as he offers it to you. You take it from his hand and click it just as he had, the light coming on again. Another click, and it's off. Holding it just like that, an object of clicks and ridges and a light you can play with, is enough to give you something to at least take your mind off the fear of getting hurt.

"Lift your head."

This time, compliance comes easier as you tilt your head up until the point his hand stops nudging you, and instead, he presses his fingers against your throat. It's light enough to feel only slight pressure; it doesn't hurt, but you don't like that feeling. Your thumb brushes over the exterior of the light, smooth against the pads of your fingers and satisfying to touch. You pull away before you can come to your senses and stop yourself, but he lets go the moment your discomfort flares, and you do the closest you can to telling him no.

Your breathing begins to even back out seeing his hands so clearly in the air in front of you, away from you, not touching you. It's silent reassurance that what you just did counts enough as revoking his permission to touch you as anything can.

Dottore doesn't feel like dealing with the fussy child that trying to force it would invoke for a mere favour to the Knave.

Instead, simply asking you like the fully grown child you are seems much more efficient. "I'm going to ask you a few questions, all yes or no," he begins. "They're all simple enough you can answer without speaking."

You interpret the ensuing silence as Dottore waiting, expecting you to nod or shake your head, and you quickly offer a nod in agreement.

"Do you know if you're able to speak?"

You consider his question carefully, unsure of the answer. Your hesitation prompts him to rephrase the question.

"Are you able to make any noises at all?"

You nod. You know the answer to that.

"But not speak in full words?"

Not words. Words don't work. You shake your head.

"Would that be because you're physically unable to?"

You shake your head. You've spoken before, but each time you try, especially here, something robs you of your voice before you get the chance. You know you can talk, just not here like this.

"If not physical, then there's nothing wrong with you," he concludes. It feels sudden like there should be more, but he stops so quickly. "Nothing that I can fix," he promptly adds. That explains it.

Why not? He doesn't answer, unable to hear the things you don't say. To him, you remain as starkly silent as ever and as difficult to treat as you have been the past few minutes. You suspect he came to some greater conclusion between when you first walked in and now but neglects to share with you what it is.

You must look unsatisfied or just confused as he pauses to stare at you. You look away first, eyes drifting back to the light in your hands.

"Arlecchino only wanted to know if something was physically wrong with you," he says, briefly looking down at the letter as he skims a particular section again. "Your poor sleep may be the result of insomnia, or whatever is causing the mental block that also prevents you from speaking."

Mental block? Nobody ever told you about anything like that.

You eye him curiously, though you again remain silent, watching him while you think he isn't looking back. It's easy to look at him as long as you don't consciously think of the fact that he's staring at you behind that mask.

Dottore holds his hand out expectantly, a motion of his fingers telling you he wants you to return what you have in your hands to him. You do so, but not without a sadness-driven hesitance to accompany it.

"None of the things you're describing imply a physical problem, but a paranoid 'parent' overattentive to the wrong facets of what could be wrong with an orphan." You don't like the way he says that as if he's speaking ill of Father, but like always, you keep your mouth shut. "If you couldn't speak because of a physical injury, you would have presented with one when you arrived at the House of the Hearth—not now. Trouble sleeping and an elevated heart rate, shortness of breath, intense panic and your tremors are more likely the symptoms of anxiety."

That's a lot of words, but as he quickly lists every example, you seem to become conscious of it. Mental block, anxiety. Those are the two things you've been told that sound like explanations. You look down as if on instinct, hands held in front of you to investigate his claims that you're shaking. You are. Before your eyes, your hands are trembling, though you can't say why. You look back at him to see if he has anything else to say.

You thought your sleep troubles weren't the same, the result of bad dreams, but supposedly not. Dottore doesn't know anything about that, does he? No, he can't. You never told him, so he can't know. He knows lots of things he shouldn't, like your heart racing when you're scared or how you feel like you can't breathe at times.

Dottore clicks the light on again, shining it down at your hands resting in your lap. He circles it in place, and your eyes follow. It clicks off again after a few seconds. "Distraction helps anxiety," he says, then sets it down on the desk beside you. "Do you know why you can't sleep?" he asks.

Yes. You nod. Dreams. On nights when they're at their worst, they keep you awake long past bedtime when all others have gone to sleep. By breakfast, you can be so tired and sleep-deprived that dozing off over your food is the only thing you can manage.

You half expect to sit through another round of questioning before Dottore finds the one that clicks the pieces perfectly together in his head, just as he did in the first round.

Instead, Dottore stands, and his hands find your sides to hook you under your arms. Your feet are back on the ground before you can fuss any more about how much you do or do not like it. With you out of his way, he flips the paper Father wrote her request to him on.

"If you know the answer, then you're free to go."

That's it?

You stare up at him for a moment, perplexed by the surprising lack of pain compared to the abundance of fear you felt. It should have hurt, but it didn't, and now you don't know why you were so against coming here in the first place. Dottore spared five or ten minutes of his time, which he already didn't want to give you, and is sending you on your way without injury,

You can't see his face as he's turned away, writing something down that you can't make out. If you took a guess what it is, it's probably about you, just like the first one was. Still, you can tell why Father is so annoyed to receive letters from him. You don't recognise your name when he writes it. You don't recognise anything he writes. His handwriting is awful.

He folds it and slips it back into the envelope it was given to him in. That's not proper etiquette, but something in the way he practically shoves it into your hands tells you that he doesn't particularly care. So long as it gets from him to Father, it doesn't matter how it gets there in his eyes.

"Give that to the Knave." That is his final instruction. You're very used to following those kinds of instructions by now, having heard and executed them many times. They're second nature to your mind.

You nod, pinching it between your fingers to keep the paper from falling out of the open envelope. If Father's was critical, so is this one, and you'll get it back to her quickly—more importantly, safely.

You can't help wondering why it felt so much easier to have someone briefly look at you and ask a few questions. The older children make it sound torturous and barbaric, like being used as a lab rat to spite Father for her refusal with his only opportunity to access the children of the House.

Perhaps seeing a doctor to ease Father's worries isn't as scary as you believed.

#✦ — scenarios.#✦ — fluff.#for anyone wondering #yes this is extremely self-indulgent #because the little doctor-fearing child in me needs to be soothed #by a scarier doctor LMAO #dottore #il dottore #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader

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temmtamm · 4 months ago

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Hello! Could you do yandere Pines family x female reader. (Mostly targeted to stanford pines) Can you do it where the reader (the reader is in her mid-20s) was traveling through gravity falls. But her car broke down, so the reader managed to stop at a motel (if gravity falls have one). The reader looks around gravity falls while she was there. And went to the mystery shack, and that's when standford meets the reader. He was love struck. So obviously, he started to stalk her, etc. Till he finally talks to the reader. After a while, the pines family has been noticing his strange behaviors (more than normal), so they went to investigate (mostly dipper and Mabel), and they realized they too really liked her. And started to see her as a graunty. Stanley comes in to see what's up and realize he also likes her too (as a little sister) and all of them try to get the reader to date/relationship with stanford. But the reader finally mentioned she was leaving soon. And that just...broke them. You can come up with the last part, okay?

Hii ^^ friendly reminder that I do not do gender specific asks, but I will gladly do this concept using gender neutral pronouns!!

Yandere Ford (+ twins) Headcanons

Okay, so I don’t think Ford would be a hard guy to impress, mostly because he had been away from human society for three decades and hence, grew accustomed to other dimensions customs, including their appearances.

That is both to say that you are something very new and exciting for him, both in the ways of fashion and what-not as you don’t exactly look like what people did in the 70’s-80’s, and you’re the first human he’s seen that was a romance-able option.

Things to note about Ford is that he is awkward, not all that socially aware, and he has no conversation skills to save his life…but, another thing to note that he is self obsessed. Ford is narcissistic as all his life he had been praised for his intellect. So, he is convinced he can use his intellect to woo you over, he just needs to study you.

He doesn’t like to call it stalking, only bad people stalk. He’s not bad, he’s just…collecting data. He’s not stealing, he’s just collecting samples, you get the point.

At nights, he lies awake thinking of you, over analyzing your twos relationship. He worries he is turning into a freak of nature, an obsessive monster that will end up destroying you and everyone else he loves. He’s afraid he’ll end up like Bill.

But…when he talks to you, when he watches the wrinkles form in the crows feet of your eyes from how much you laugh at his jokes, how well you take care of the twins, all his worries melt away.

He will never end up like Bill. He’ll make sure of it. He doesn’t want to destroy, he wants to protect. It’s the intent that matters, right?

Well…Stan doesn’t exactly think so. He gets worried seeing Ford hover so closely around you, always analyzing, always watching. He doesn’t want to lose his brother. It might be a bit selfish, but he just got Ford back, he doesn’t want you taking Ford away to god-knows-where once your car gets patched up.

So, he starts asking around, asking to see if Mabel and Dipper noticed Ford’s new attitude.

You see, another thing to note is that Mabel and Dipper don’t have a good home life. It’s not out of reach to assume that they had gotten sent to the Mystery Shack during summer while their parents got divorced, and in such a troubling time with a collapsing home life, they latched onto the closest thing to a family they had, which was you and Ford.

Ford had been Dipper’s ideal for a long, long time, before Dipper even really knew who Ford was, and hence, he’d be estatic to have him as a father figure. And Mabel?? Well, she has this unique ability to bond with almost everyone she meets, but especially you. You don’t chastise or make fun of her for being boy crazy, or liking pink, or being the ‘dumber’ sibling. You just let her be a kid and have her fun.

So, the two cover for Ford.

What do you mean he’s going out late?? He must just be getting used to his new life back home.

What do you mean he has a collection of your clothes? He’s keeping it for you…to wash.

He bought a perfume/cologne with your exact scent?? Obviously, it’s an early birthday present.

Hell, the two might even try to convince Soos to stall the fixes on your car, with Mabel in particular winning him over, saying it’s for ‘love’.

They, along with Ford, aren’t that willing to part with you. Won’t you just stay a little longer?? They barely got to know you.

C’mon, just stay…

At least let them pretend they have a happy family, at least for a little.

#fanfic #fanfiction #yandere x reader #yandere #romantic #platonic #platonic dipper and Mabel #yandere ford pines #yandere gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls stanford #gravity falls fandom #gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls #temmtamm

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hazbinshusk · 4 months ago

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husk x fem!reader. a sequel to the fic in which you catch husk humping your pillow. the bartender, ashamed of himself, has been avoiding you now for days - at least as best he can while stuck behind the bar. so, what else can you do but take to sitcom logic in order to level the playing field between the two of you? featuring: masturbation (afab!reader), exhibitionism, and a gob-smacked (and very aroused) husk. 1.4k. tagging @irkimatsu because they requested the original fic :) * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Hey, can we talk? Please?

Husk’s phone is perhaps one of the least utilized in all of the ring of Pride, rarely considered and seldom used. Texting isn’t his thing, and who would he need to call? Just about everyone he still associated with was here in this damned hotel, and it wasn’t like he wasn’t easy to track down stuck behind the bar every day. So, while he kept it charged as per Charlie’s gentle request (and Vaggie’s dryly given order) that all staff are contactable while they’re out recruiting, he barely ever spared it even a glance.

But now…

Now the damned thing is burning into his periphery, and has been since you sent him those texts three hours ago.

A flash of your wide eyes and flushed cheeks passes through his mind and he frowns, reaching blindly for whatever bottle is closest. His claws wrap around a whiskey bottle and he tugs the stopper out of the neck, swallowing down three long pulls of burning liqueur.

“Ooh, somethin’s got kitty all twisted…”

Husk looks up disapprovingly as Angel Dust arrives at the bar, settling himself gracefully onto his usual stool with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. The bartender tosses the stopper onto the bar, taking another swig. “Don’t.”

Angel pouts teasingly, accepting the glass of the same that Husk pours him. Usually he’d prefer something sweeter, but its late and work was long, so the hard stuff will work just fine. Besides, whatever is twisting up Husk into an angry little pretzel is so much tastier. He knocks back the drink, setting the glass back down in front of his friend. “Aw, what’s wrong, Whiskers?”

Husk growls quietly – a warning for Angel to shut the hell up – which the porn star, of course, ignores. He pulls another glass out from under the bar, pouring the two of them another drink. Angel’s eyebrow shoots up again as Husk’s own glass is filled almost to the rim.

“This got anythin’ to do with the way you’ve been avoidin’ our other favorite resident the last few days?” Angel asks knowingly, and Husk almost chokes on his drink. Had you told him what Husk had done? That you’d found him humping your fucking pillow like some kind of creep? That he hadn’t fucking stopped even when you’d walked in? How he’d cum like a fucking pervert while you’d watched?

“Don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“I’m talkin’ about the tasty little sinner you’ve been gettin’ all heart-eyed over since they moved in.” the spider says pointedly. He takes another sip of his drink, exhaling the burn slowly.

“I ain’t—”

“I ain’t blind.” Angel points out. “And if I gotta watch her ass mope around the hotel for one more day because you’re avoidin’ her, I’m gonna lose my damn mind. She’s no fuckin’ fun like this an’ if I’m expected to stay sober in this place imma need the two o’ ya to do ya fuckin’ part. An’ I’ve always liked a romance a helluva lot more than a drama. Or, ya know, at the very least a good age gap porno.”

Husk snorts despite himself. “And here I thought you were worried about someone other than yourself for once,”

Angel grins. “So?”

The cat glances surreptitiously towards his phone. “I ain’t avoiding her.”

“No?” Angel notices, and the fucker manages to snag the phone before Husk can stop him. He smirks at the lack of password and opens it with ease, the screen still settled on the messages you’d sent him hours ago. “Oooh… what’cha got to talk about?”

Husk’s face burns despite himself. “Fuck off.”

“Sure.” Angel shrugs, tapping out a response and sending it before Husk can stop him. He tosses the phone back to the swearing feline, shooting him a wink as he stands to leave. “But only so you two can ‘talk’.”

Husk flips him off as he goes, a growl rumbling out through gritted fangs. He glares after the spider until he’s out of sight, his ears falling low as he glances down at the phone in his paw.

Husk: I’m off in ten.

“Shit.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Husk swallows heavily as he stands outside the door to your suite, rubbing a hand through the fur at the side of his neck. He should just keep walking, head back to his own room, and drown his embarrassment in whatever booze he can scrounge up in there.

Hell, maybe you might not ever forget what he’d done, but with enough alcohol, maybe he can.

He sighs, fishing his phone out of his pocket to re-read the response you’d sent him only minutes after Angel’s text.

Come see me in my room?

Husk groans to himself before finally raising a fist and knocking hesitantly on the wood of the door. “Hey, it’s… it’s me.”

“Come in.”

Your response comes immediately, and Husk’s ears twitch forward at the breathy quality in your voice. He hesitates a moment longer before finally turning the knob and pushing open the door.

And his heart stops, blood rushing into his cheeks and lower.

You’re laid out on your bed, propped up on the pillows so you can meet his gaze through heavy-lidded eyes. Your hair is disheveled and your face is flushed, a sweet, almost innocent pink staining your cheeks. You’re all but naked, a bra of red silk wrapped around your chest. One of the straps is hanging off your shoulder, the cup sitting low enough that husk can see the dusky skin of your nipple peeking out from under it. Knees bent and legs splayed wide, you bite your lip and whimper with your hand between your thighs, two fingers pumping eagerly in and out of your wet, wet pussy.

And you have one of his bowties wrapped around that palm.

“Hi…” you whine as you slip your fingers out of you to instead tease over your clit, your hips bucking up into your hand. The red silk of the tie is stained with your cum, soaked in it, and Husk’s lips part, his breath coming heavily.

“Hi,” he replies softly, the hint of a disbelieving smile touching the edge of his lips. “You…”

“Fuck…” you moan quietly and Husk curses at the sound of it. He doesn’t want to blink, to miss a second of what you’re doing in front of him… for him. “Fuck, Husk…”

He groans as you slip your fingers back into your cunt, your other hand coming up squeeze at your breast needily. He can see your nipple harden and catch between your fingers, and the door closes behind him with a quiet snap as he steps further into the room, enclosing him in the heady scent of your arousal.

Any nerves you felt over this plan have melted away with the expression on Husk’s face, the soft silk a teasing friction against your clit. You have to force yourself not to close your eyes, thrilling in the way his pupils have all but eclipsed his irises as he watches you. Husk clears his throat, his breath shaking. “Didn’t… didn’t have to do this, doll.”

“Always do it for you,” you confess, voice reedy, and God above if those words don’t go straight to his dick.

“Fuck, sweetness…”

“Feels so good, Husk,” you murmur needily, rolling your hips up against your hand. The sound of you fucking yourself, the wetness of your cunt and the breathy moans that escape you are more addictive than anything else Husk has ever sampled, and his cock aches with the need to feel that tight heat wrapped around it. “Fuck, it feels good…”

“God, you look so pretty, baby,” he breathes, and you swear, you could get drunk off all these pet names. “Such a pretty thing…”

“Please, Husk…” you whimper, humping up into your hand, and you moan needily as you watch him palm his cock through his pants and squeeze. He exhales a groan, eyes rolling back for a second. Your other hand leaves your breast to instead join the other between your legs, your thighs clenching around your hands as you fuck yourself onto your fingers and frantically rub at your clit. “God, fuck, please. Please…”

Husk feels like he could pass out when he replies, “Cum for me, sweetness.”

A few more moments and your hips lift off the sheets. You cum with a broken, drawn-out moan of his name, eyes squeezing closed and your thighs shuddering with every wave of your orgasm. The bowtie is soaked, dripping with your cum, and Husk can’t help the fleeting thought of wearing your scent around his neck. He exhales a curse as he watches, transfixed, and God does he want to bury his face between those quivering thighs and taste that ambrosia between your legs.

Fuck.

You’re beautiful.

#husk fic #husk #husk x reader #my fic #hazbin hotel x reader #husk hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel

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cursedcola · 2 years ago

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Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul (here!), Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia(Pt.1)(Pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. Note: These are all if he is the one proposing btw. I've been thinking about maybe programming a small fan-made mini-otome using these ideas. Just for some practice for school while also being self indulgent hehe

Riddle Rosehearts

Very traditional, but this is expected. He asks your closest of kin (a cat, to his horror) for permission to propose. Regardless of Grimm's answer, there is already a ring that's been purchased. This is merely formality

He comes up with an elaborate plan to execute the 'perfect' proposal. Riddle maps it all out and runs multiple drafts by his childhood friends. Everything must go perfectly - or else you might not accept. Is it likely that not presenting you with exactly 12 red roses with the spikes trimmed and arranged with 6 sprigs of baby's breath will be the reason you decline? Likely not. Will he chance it though? No.

Despite all his planning, he is a nervous wreak. Our red prince is great at masking it though. He plans an entire evening down to the last detail. You both go to a upscale restaurant that serves your favorite cuisine under the pretense that you're celebrating an amazing jab offer Riddle received the day prior. There's dinner, dancing, a romantic atmosphere, and delightful conversation (he prepared conversation topics in advance in case he felt nervous).

Oh look, there just so happens to be an outdoor garden to take an evening stroll through. Would you like to go?

Of course you would, and he asks you to wait outside as he visits the restroom. After you pass through the back door, a nearby waiter slips him the bouquet of twelve roses that he dropped off in the morning. He counts them, checks the stems, the ribbon holding them together, and with a relieved sigh he reaches into his pocket.

Riddle nestles the engagement ring within the core of the center rose, and for a moment his anxiety quells. He looks through the outside door's windowpane, and sees you patiently waiting for him while admiring the garden lights. The anxiety returns, but he's ready. With a knuckle-white grip on the flowers, he passes through the doors.

"My Rose...My apologies to have kept you waiting. There was a matter of great importance to attend to - pardon? No! Not that- ugh. I was not in the restroom! Only you would make such a childish remark on such an important day...No, do not apologize. I was not referring to my career. Perhaps these flowers will provide some clarity? I hope they are to you liking."

When you notice the ring, he gently takes it and gets down on one knee. Riddles heart rattles against his ribcage, and his the mask of calm falters. He holds out the ring with one hand, and the other lightly trembles as it reaches for yours.

"Would you do me the honor of becoming my spouse? I promise that you will be cared for dearly, and that I will work tirelessly to become a husband that you will be proud of. I swear this vow to you on the Rosehearts name."

{Riddle's ring is a mix of new and old. Tradition dictates a diamond for a wedding ring, but he knows better. Riddle wants you to think of him every time you see this ring, so he chooses to stray. Three rubies sit nested in diamonds. The color of his hair, which you love to poke fun of so much. It represents how he is willing to consistently change while still holding on to his core values, all so he can become a husband worthy of you}

Trey Clover

A simple man, and therefore takes a simple approach. The depth of his proposal lies in the timing. He does not know when he will be ready to commit, or how to tell if you are ready to as well.

Trey puts proposing off for the longest time. He acts in baby steps. The idea toys with him for months, until one day he convinces himself that he is ready. After that he slowly begins to look at rings, and think of ideas. He wants to be original, but would that overwhelm you? He would sooner die than do something tacky like a public proposal at a concert or event...but is that something you might want?

If there is one thing Trey is certain about, its that rejection would break him. He knows that your relationship would never be the same if he proposed too early, or if he managed to royally screw it up. He's not a fan of attention. This is awful. Oh Great Sevens it's a pressure that he never dreamed of having to undergo.

But if he doesn't propose...would you? Are you waiting for him? what if you're thought process is the same as his?

Completely out of character for Trey, he ends up proposing on impulse. He woke up one morning and saw the ring tucked away in his sock drawer. For the millionth time he had to face the "I should just do it," thoughts and decided to act on them

The day is new, neither of you had work, and a quick glance over his shoulder proves that you would be soundly sleeping for at least the next hour. So what's he do? Trey puts on his nicest casual clothes. Nothing formal, but also nothing that is sloppy. Then he marches downstairs and starts to make breakfast. He decides to prepare tarts, a reminiscence of your days as students and where you first met. As he arranges them on a platter, he places the ring inside one made with your favorite flavor. It peaks out just enough for anyone to notice, and with a huff Trey steps back to admire his work.

His hands are slightly clammy, and quickly moves to busy himself in fear he might chicken out. It helps for a time, until he hears your footsteps approach the kitchen, followed by a sleepy 'good morning' and arms wrapping around his torso

He steels himself, and turns over in your arms to kiss the top of your head. With a nervous laugh, Trey gestures to the platter of fruit tarts and smiles at how the sight of food causes you to perk up. Like clockwork, you reach for your favorite flavor and quickly notice the metal chunk inside

He reigns in panic as you dig the ring out and eye it with a quirked brow. A moment of silence passes before it clicks, and you whip to gawk at him with the largest bugeyes he has ever seen. Wordlessly, Trey takes the ring, wipes off any crumbs with his shirt, and takes your hands in his

"I'm sorry to spring this on you so early in the morning. It must be quite the wakeup call, huh? Haha...The truth is, I've wanted to give this to you for such a long time. I simply did not know how. I had a burst of courage this morning, and am honestly running on pure adrenaline. I love you...I want to spend our lives together. Will you marry me?"

{Trey's ring is a single pearl on a gold band. He feels that the ring should reflect it's wearer, and you are one of the most naturally beautiful people he has ever seen. There is beauty in simplicity - in seeing things as they are with no modifications. You do that for him, and he loves how your relationship is authentic}

Cater Diamond

Marriage? Huh. See, in the past that was a no-go. Very constricting and he didn't enjoy the idea of getting linked to someone in that regard. An s/o with no legal binding? Sure. It's just a title anyways, right? That kind of thing shouldn't matter in the long run.

Except it did end up being relevant, and now Cater wants to beat himself up because he explicitly told you once things were getting serious that he wasn't interested in marriage. You were fine with doing either and left the decision up to him. Very nice of you to be so nonchalant , and now he knows that marriage isn't 'off the table'. There is a chance.

A chance that requires him to both propose and take back his initial stance. Which is kind of humiliating. The take back part, not the proposal. Cater is confident that he can blow you away. He doesn't need shoddy internet advice, or to to do extensive research to be perfect. Nope. It's all in his noggin. He knows you like the back of his hand and therefore can concoct a speech to woo you easily.

So what comes first, the chicken or the egg? Does he try to casually tip you of that he's interested in getting married before trying to propose? No. That would be incredibly dull and ruin the element of surprise. Cater always hated those crappy half-baked romance films where the loser male lead is all 'oh honey I promise I will propose. Just give me time,' because hello???? You spoiled it??? Also don't make promises that you don't plan to keep, douchebag. How dull.

He decides that it's all or nothing. Cater spends an entire night online shopping for a ring. He already knows all of your sizes...don't ask how or why. Anyway, ordering is a cinche. Just ignore his eyebags the next day and his snappy attitude. He can't even whine about how tired he is because that would mean he has to say why he didn't sleep and -EUGH. He is torn between his two loves. Complaining for attention, and wooing you for attention. It's rough.

It comes in the mail, and after checking the package he decides to seal it back up again. It looks untouched thanks to his skills. Then, he sets up the living room to look like he is filming a video for his magicam. Specifically an unboxing video, and makes sure to let you know that it's from one of your favorite companies.

You take the bait, and he asks you to join him. Even if your camera shy, he insists that for just this one video you hop on. He might be a bit tricky and give you ideas about the product in the box (making sure to align them with a hobby or fandom that you're into). He sets the camera to record, plops down casually at your side, and hands you the box cutter. Go crazy.

Cater can't help but giggle when you open the box - just to pull out another small box. You eye it cautiously, now suspicious that this might be a prank. He urges you to open the box, and you do so while holding it at arms-length away from your face.

The ring's gem sparkles in the camera light, and he watches amused as you pull it closer. With a shaky hand, you take it out of the box and inspect it. With the way you side-eye him, Cater can tell that you're wondering if this situation is a cruel prank...

"Tada~~ You like? -- WAIT! Before you get upset just let me explain! There is no video. That was a lie, and I'm sorry for it. I surprised you good though, right?...ahem, uhm. I'm not pranking you. If you feel the same, then I want for us to get married! I know what I said before, and I take it back. The time we have spent together made me realize that I only felt that way - well, because I was unable to imagine liking someone enough to share my life. At least until I met you. So...do you want to marry me?"

{A diamond for a diamond. Diamonds are reflective. They glitter, and are clear. They are also viewed as the best choice for a ring, but in actuality they have are not. They're only considered perfect because of marketing. In actuality, they're quite the opposite. This same reasoning applies to Cater - and you understand. Yet, you still love him. The diamond represents himself, and the heart shape is to remind you how much you mean to him}

Deuce Spade

He may be young, but he is not stupid...alright. Deuce is not always stupid. Sometimes? Yes. He makes poor decisions and lets his emotions get the better of him.

This? Not a poor decision, and he will never EVER think twice about it. From the moment the idea entered Deuce's head, it was decided. HE would become your husband. Nothing would stop him.

It began during his final year at Night Raven College. Graduation approached, and everyone was excited. Everyone, except for one person. You. He didn't notice it at first, being too hung up over how he actually managed to do well in school. Get this, he even became Heartslabyul Drumhead after Riddle graduated! What an honor! His mother was proud of him, and he was proud of himself! He had career aspirations, plans to get a home back home, and even a lovely s/o to flaunt. Life was great.

What...do you mean? That you're not going back with him? The Queendom of Roses is such a beautiful place! He's certain that you'll love it and can become adjusted. Why do you want to stay at this academy? Was three years not enough?

Deuce has never gotten mad at you before. A little miffed, sure, but never frustrated. He didn't like it. Not these feelings, or how he failed to notice that you planned this from the start. He was so wrapped up in his own happiness, that he failed to see that you felt troubled over his assumptions. It stung. In a moment of weakness, he left you alone, scared that he might raise his voice at you.

He needed to think. Alone. Thankfully he moved past sharing a room with Ace when Deuce became Housewarden. His phone rang many times. Some calls from you, Ace, his mother...for once, Deuce didn't think her advice could help him. Not when he was so confused.

He thought over his dreams for after college. They were the same that he had since prior to enrolling. Nothing changed...except for you and the other unexpected friends he made along the way. It began to settle within him that the unpredicted parts were more important to him than what he initially planned. The image of him as a successful worker, on his own, and being successful were all hollow if they didn't include you. Deuce wasn't upset that you planned to stay at NRC, he was upset that you didn't plan to stay with him.

Or did you? He interpreted it as such in the moment, but he's not so sure. All Deuce knows is that you're his best friend and the love of his life. If you stay here without him, will that change? He doesn't want to find out.

The next day, he's determined. It's impulsive, this he knows. Yet it's what feels right in his heart and Deuce has always trusted his gut instinct. This choice is entirely on him. No one's advice to excuse it if you don't reciprocate, and yet he isn't afraid. He might not have a ring, or fancy offerings. All he has is his love to offer, and a willingness to work around any obstacle. The hurt from the night prior sill aches in his chest, but he has done difficult things before. The pain merely serves as a reminder for how he hurt you, and what his future might be like if he doesn't act.

He finds you before breakfast. When the first rays of sunshine peak over the horizon and the air is still moist with morning dew. You lingered in the hall of mirrors, specifically near the portal to Heartslabyul Hall. Your presence startled him, and he nearly headbutt you from the speed he was going through the portal. Were you...planning to visit him? His heart shuddered in a mix of guilt and happiness. Even after the way he behaved, you still cared.

Upon closer inspection, you appear just as disheveled as him. He must have caused you a great deal of worry...damn it. He can't even be mad at himself. Not with things as they are.

Before you have a chance to speak, he hushes you. Deuce's jaw sets in determination and he reaches into his uniform pocket. He pulls out a paper ring. One that children often give each other on the playground when playing family. He then gets down on one knee, and holds it out with both hands.

"I am sorry. I never intended to hurt you, or push my ambitions on to you. I simply love you more than anything else, and was afraid that you did not want to be together anymore. I was afraid...that being apart would take away what we have. I realize that I was wrong. I didn't see it happening, but being with you has caused me to develop dreams beyond what I initially planned. Nothing I imagine feels right, unless you are in the picture. I don't have a proper ring prepared just yet...but will you marry me? I promise that no matter where we are - for better or worse, I will make you happy. I swear it!

{Your initial ring is made out of his most recent homework assignment. It's frail, and one drop of water will break it. However, he meticulously folded it and it is the byproduct of many imperfect prototypes. The paper ring truly represents who Deuce is. It's rushed, fragile, and full of love}

{He chooses a vintage ring. With both of your initials engraved on the center, he hopes that this ring attests to a promise no matter where you both are. It's rose-gold, not as bright as pure gold but still beautiful. The mixed color represents the different worlds you both come from, as well as your melded life}

Ace Trappolla

Ace tends to get comfortable, and when that happens it is difficult to ignite change. However, he is also headstrong. More than many give him credit for. So once the problem is identified, it's only a matter of time until he does something about it. What he does isn't necessarily always the best solution, sure; however, when threatened he will indeed act.

Initially Ace did not plan to find love. For a long time, he rejected it and passed his feelings off as a small crush. You're attractive, he's a man, a lil of this and a lil of that - who wouldn't feel a little heart throb once in a while? It only became an issue when you became one of his best friends. It felt like he was betraying you with these thoughts. They became a problem.

His first solution was to repress them further. Like stated, he noticed a problem and so he acted. Was this the best choice? No. It ended in a dumpster-fire. Any time another student even remotely expressed interest in you, Ace felt threatened. He couldn't spend time at your side without indecent thoughts popping up. Not like 'that' (geez, get your mind out of the gutter people), but more so domestic. Ick. What was happening?!

He couldn't hold it in, and his confession will forever be known as a feels-dump that started with you sharing half of your grilled-cheese with him because he missed lunch.

Yeah. Humiliating. Ugh.

Now you're his partner, of a long time. A very, very, very long time. Years post graduation. You both have settled into life together, so why tack a title? It's not like those mean anything, right? Everything was perfect as is, and weddings are expensive. You never brought it up either, so why worry?

Well, those titles do mean things in the eyes of the law. Ace never thought to get documentation about emergency contacts and whatnot updated. So when hit his head and got a concussion when jogging? The hospital wouldn't let you in. Not until he woke up, which was the longest four hours of your life.

You didn't express how much it bothered you, but words weren't necessary. The muted panic that you tried to hold back was enough. He expected you to enter his room angry, but instead all he got was defeat. That sight alone hurt worse than the leg.

The event got Ace thinking about things he hadn't in a long time - like marriage. He got too comfortable after letting the thought go once. To him, you were already irreplicable. Years do that, and he's certain that you feel the same way about him. If his young self could see him now...pah, he was such a turd. All 'I don't need anyone,' and empty words to play tough-guy. Little did he know that the person he would need the most in life was only a dimension-hop away haha.

It's that simple, really. No panic or nervousness. Ace decided definitively that he was going to marry you, and it only took years of being an airhead to figure it out.

He spends the night in the hospital for surveillance, and the staff is kind enough to prove you with a cot to sleep on. He stubbornly drags it next to his bed, and once you're sleeping soundly he 3slips a bandage over your ring finger to take the measurement

He planned to go buy the ring instantly after being discharged, but you wouldn't leave his side. Nagging about bed-rest and taking it easy...ugh! He needs to do this thing! No, he can't tell you about it. It's a secret!.....ugh, fine. One more day. Just because he loves the attention.

The next morning after, he's excitedly going to the nearest jewelers. He doesn't have a particular ring in mind, but he's done some research! It's the idea behind the ring that's important anyways....alright. Maybe he'll call up Cater.

Ace does nothing extravagant. He sticks to comfort. You, him, both eating dinner while watching a movie on the TV that evening. He quickly scarfs down his meal within the first 10 minutes and runs to your shared room after ditching his dishes. Stashed in his wallet, he pulls put the ring and hides it in his palm.

Ace tries to be smooth. He dims the living room lights, and sits down closer to you than before. He moves to take your hand with the one holding the ring, and sneak it on to your finger.

It fails, obviously. Who wouldn't notice someone trying to shove a piece of metal on their finger? You pull away on instinct, and the ring falls between the couch cushions. He freaks out for a moment and sifts through them as you continue to eat between giggles. Only when he holds the ring up in triumph do you quiet down.

"Not so funny now, is it? - Nah, just kidding. It was pretty funny....although I wanted this to be a bit more romantic. Eh. It's fine. From the look on your face, I'm guessing that you know what this is?...Uhh. Yeah. I thought it was a good time, y'know? We've been together so long that I already do think of you as my partner. I think you feel the same? Feel free to jump in if not....but, yeah. I love you. A lot. I'd really like to make it official, and I'm sorry it took me so long to get the guts to ask. Will you marry me?"

{Tradition is for chumps. Ace wanted to get something fun and eye-catching. Many suggested otherwise, but this felt right. Your relationship has never been conventional and never will be. Hell, screw 'conventional,' because it's perfect as it is and so is this ring. He knows that this ring will draw your attention, and that's all he cares about}

End Note: None of the ring pictures are mine. I pulled them off of google images because - well, I had ideas and tried to find rings to match them. I write fanfic, not weld jewelry.

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