#or who won’t let go of the hope that Tech made it

[heyclickadee]

Hey howdy hey I just realized that Wrecker was watching out of the back of the tram car longer than any of the others were. Omega ran to Hunter, Echo was trying to get the car to stop, and Hunter was dealing with Omega. Wrecker, though, was just staring out the back right up until the moment they crashed.

Now, I think the reason he’s staring out the back is because he’s in shock and can’t do anything else, but. But. It’s possible that while he was standing there in shock he may have seen the shadow of something happening under the cloud cover. It’s possible.

[shina913]

Merger | KNJ, CSC

Merger

Pairing: Namjoon x Fem!Reader x Seungcheol

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: Smut; pwp; non-idol AU

Warnings: Threesome; porn with the barest of plots; cussing; alcohol consumption; voyeurism; fingering; clit play; breast play; oral sex; spit-roast(😬); handjobs; penetrative, protected sex; masturbation; multiple orgasms; pearl necklace; soft aftercare

Word count: 6.1k words

Summary: “Oh, so you guys are like a package deal then?”

A/N: It’s been ages since I’ve written and finished any WIP! This is probably the filthiest thing I’ve written--ever! It's completely indulgent, and since my moots and I have been kicking around the idea of a leader-line/crossover fic, I figured, why not? Thank you, @roaminginthenights and my Discord loves for enabling me!

Full disclosure: I’ve never written a poly fic before, so please be kind! Anyway, I'll shut up now. Enjoy!

You’re still shaking hands with Namjoon and Seungcheol, when you suggest getting celebratory drinks. They’ve just accepted your firm’s very lucrative offer to invest in their business, one you identified and insisted your firm consider. There’s still plenty of paperwork to complete, documents to sign, but for now, after securing the biggest deal of their lives, they (and you) deserve one night to bask in their success before the real work begins.

As a new partner at your firm who finds and manages ventures, you want to be seen as both an advisor and a peer. You aren’t just another representative of the new majority shareholder; you listen and care about their needs.

Just hours ago, they appeared as slightly awkward but well-rehearsed tech geeks, hoping to secure funding for their business. This more casual setting is exactly what they needed. And frankly, after a couple of drinks, you realized that you needed it too.

In a quiet corner of the bar, with loosened ties and rolled-up sleeves, your newest clients seem much more relaxed, blending in with the tech and finance crowd that frequents this part of the city.

Unlike the old crowd, Namjoon and Seungcheol stood out to you. They brought new energy and enthusiasm instead of the burnt-out, jaded-looking faces you usually saw. They had a spark that made you believe in their vision, making you excited to see where this partnership could go. It also didn't hurt that they were very attractive (objectively speaking), which was rare for guys in their industry.

“We can’t thank you enough,” Namjoon says. He handles operations for the business, led the pitch, and hasn’t stopped expressing his gratitude since you left the office.

“We promise you won’t regret taking a chance on us.” Seungcheol adds. He oversees the tech front and was quieter in comparison. He let the demonstration do all the talking for him, and you were very impressed, but now he seems to be livening up.

“Well, you guys made a convincing pitch. I think that the service you offer and your business model is unique and we see a significant untapped market for it. All you need is scale, and we’re very excited to be involved in that effort.”

Namjoon turns serious for a moment, “To tell you the truth, we’ve been used to hearing ‘no’ in the last few months, so we were shocked by your offer—I mean, we still are.”

You smile. “All you need is that one ‘yes,’ to get you going! I’m glad you both persisted and that we can be part of what we’re confident is going to be a huge success.”

“To getting rich!” Seungcheol roars, raising his glass, making you and Namjoon laugh in response. You then tap your glasses against his, echoing his sentiments.

Peering past the rim of your drink, you observe their banter and laughter at techy inside jokes you're not privy to. Outside the conference room and clearly more relaxed, you start to see their individual charm, which would knock the socks off anyone who stopped and paid attention.

You shift in your seat, leaning just a tad closer to Namjoon—close enough to catch a hint of his scent, but with enough distance to keep things semi-professional.

“So! I feel like I've been going on and on about how we like to work with our portfolio companies. But what about you guys? Tell me more about how this partnership works,” you ask, gesturing between them.

To your surprise, Seungcheol clears his throat and answers first. “We complement each other well. Joon is more articulate than I am, while I’m more comfortable working on the technical side of things.”

He seems shy, often hiding his face when laughing as if to avoid drawing attention to himself. Yet, his confident demonstration today—and the obvious technical expertise behind it—suggests that he’s more self-assured than he initially lets on. He may not talk as much as his counterpart, but when he does, he demands that you focus on him and nothing and no one else. With those dark, deep-set eyes and plush lips, you wouldn’t even think of diverting your attention elsewhere.

…Unless Namjoon was in the same room.

“Cheol is quicker at troubleshooting and debugging,” he says. “He prefers rectifying things right away, figuring things out as he goes. My approach is more theoretical. I prefer to take my time, gathering more information, maybe drawing things out a little longer than they need to be…”

Namjoon had your full attention from the moment he introduced himself. He had a boyish, dimpled smile that could make anyone swoon—a stark contrast to his tall and broad frame. He was mostly formal during the presentation but unafraid to go off on smaller tangents that showed his passion and kept you hanging on his every word. At certain points, you wished he would keep going, especially with that deep, rich voice of his.

However, as the night progresses, Seungcheol gradually draws your attention toward him as well.

“Let’s just say that Joon likes to play with his food, while I just want to get right to it and eat,” Seungcheol says, tipping his glass to his partner and winking playfully at you.

Your jaw drops at his unexpected comment, surprised by how bold it is. Normally, you'd think something like that would be out of line, but instead, you’re amused by it.

Little by little, you start to pick up on the subtle nuances in Seungcheol’s behavior. He has this laid-back attitude that contrasts with Namjoon's more reserved demeanor. It's fascinating to see the differences between the two, and you can't help but be drawn further into their intriguing dynamic.

Namjoon clears his throat, giving Seungcheol a subtle warning. “Uhh… please excuse my friend here. He offers the most colorful analogies.”

You wave him off. “I think he’s pretty funny, actually.”

“Why, thank you!” Seungcheol beams, takes it as a compliment then takes a sip of his drink.

“Besides, we need a little humor to get through the day, right,” you add.

You see Namjoon’s shoulders visibly relax. Your carefree reaction seems to give him a sense of relief.

With that awkwardness out of the way, you press on to get to know them better. You feel there's something more about them you can't quite put your finger on. Against your better judgment, and maybe due to one too many drinks, you’re dead-set on finding out.

You switch tact to keep the conversation going. “Has anybody ever pulled one of you aside to offer you an individual deal?”

“It’s happened before, but we’ve always turned them down,” Seungcheol replies.

Having been friends for over a decade, Namjoon nods in agreement. “Cheol and I have this pact—it's either both of us or neither of us.”

They’re young, business-savvy guys who haven’t lost their earnestness despite the ruthless competition. But the skeptic in you decides to test their ‘pact.’ “Oh, so you guys are like a package deal then?” you tease.

Seungcheol lets out a low laugh. “Yeah. Something like that.”

The look he gives you after he says it makes the words sound naughtier than they seem. But you brush the comment aside, keeping your thoughts PG since this is still technically a business meeting. Though, if you’re being honest, Seungcheol’s responses have been toeing the line between professional and provocative. His comment about preferring to eat his food rather than play with it makes you curious about what other colorful analogies he can come up with when he does cross that line. Frankly, you hope he would run through the entire spectrum.

Namjoon gives him a furtive look. “What he means is that this business wouldn't succeed if one of us walked away. It's better to hire both of us so you can get the best possible return on your investment.”

You scoff in disbelief. After years in this industry, you know that somebody is always looking to get ahead, as long as the price is right. “You mean to tell me that you’re perfectly fine settling for a 50/50 share when one of you could just take it all?”

“We don’t mind sharing.” Seungcheol bites his lower lip to stifle a smile, while his eyes glistened hotly in the muted lighting.

And just like that, this business meeting has evolved into something completely different. You’re not stupid, and neither is he. Deep down, you want to squeal from excitement. At least one of them is feeling you.

Before you jump to conclusions (or onto Seungcheol’s lap), you turn to Namjoon, expecting him to once again rein in his friend’s spicy comments. Instead, you’re surprised to find him staring, a smile ghosting his face.

“Do you disagree?” You ask him, rubbing the back of your neck to relieve some of the tension you were feeling inside. You’re interested to hear how he would try to spin Seungcheol’s comment.

There’s a slight pause before he smiles wider, flashing a dimple on his cheek. “Nah. I don’t see anything wrong with sharing… or taking turns, for that matter.”

You inhale sharply, holding that breath for a moment as your stomach drops. “Taking turns?” you ask carefully, brows furrowed in curiosity.

Unfazed, he answers, “Leading projects, of course!”

Your lips form an ‘o’ shape, and you nod slowly. “Right…”

The room suddenly feels hotter. Feeling parched, you tip your glass to your lips and drink, but it doesn’t help. Your body is telling you that you need something else to relieve your thirst.

Namjoon tilts his head, still appearing nonchalant. “What did you think I was referring to?”

“Nothing,” you reply. Narrowing your eyes at him, you ask, “What did you think I was thinking?”

They both stare at you quietly before bursting into laughter. Touché.

You’re laughing along with them when your phone chimes, reminding you about tomorrow’s meeting—something your boss has mentioned multiple times this week. When you look up from your screen, you notice the bar is nearly empty. You didn't realize it was so late. Even though you're reluctant to leave things…unsettled tonight, duty calls.

You motion for the server to bring the check, then hand over your credit card with a sigh. Guess you'll have to handle things on your own tonight.

Noticing your change in demeanor, Namjoon turns to you again. “So, are you one of those partners who pays for dinner and drinks, takes their commission, then we never see them ever?”

You soften at his question. “I’m sorry that’s been your experience in the past but I guarantee you, that’s not how I, or my firm, operate. I actually answer my phone and return calls,” you assure him.

He nods, seemingly satisfied with your answer. At least one of you is. You watch him toss back the last few drops of his drink, some spilling onto his chin. He picks up a napkin to clean up, but before he can, you see an opportunity and take it—swiping your thumb across his chin, surprising him and Seungcheol.

“I like to be hands-on with my clients.” Enough with the innuendo tennis! You're done playing games and want to see if one of them is willing to put their money where their mouth is. Meeting be damned, you’ll deal with the fallout later.

Namjoon is stunned into silence, trying to process what just went down. While you wait for him to get his head around it, Seungcheol jumps in. “Hmm, is that right?” His voice is low and husky, sending a chill down your spine.

You turn your head towards him. He appears to be pouting slightly, clearly jealous of the attention you're giving his friend and business partner. You smile, satisfied to provoke that bit of aggression in him.

You shift and bring your face closer to his, your voice steady. “Why? Is that hard to believe?”

He purses his lips, his dimples prominently on display. Normally, you'd find them adorable, but not now, as he looks like he's stalking you as his prey. “Well, there are two of us, you see…” He glances at Namjoon past your shoulder, as if giving him a silent signal.

Not a second later, Namjoon’s hand is under the table, sliding up your thigh. You’re thankful your table is tucked away in the back corner of the bar, keeping the lewdness out of sight.

“And we can be very demanding,” Namjoon breathes into your ear, while Seungcheol, humming in agreement, nuzzles his nose against your neck. “You think you can handle us both?”

Now that ache in your chest has traveled down between your legs. You press them together to hold off a bit longer, but it’s a futile attempt.

“You shouldn’t underestimate me, you know.” You lean in, your mouth hovering close to Namjoon’s. “I’m an excellent multitasker.” You push him to the brink when you touch the tip of your nose to his. Pulse racing, he closes the gap and seals his lips over yours. The kiss is soft at first, before he gradually deepens it. You succumb to the moment, letting out a soft moan when his tongue licks into your mouth.

You’re breathless when you pull away from him and turn to Seungcheol. He cups your chin to draw you closer, his eyes dark with desire, and captures your mouth in a hungry kiss. There's a hint of urgency in it that could be mistaken for impatience. But you like it, just as you enjoy Namjoon’s unhurried pace. You lose yourself between them, forgetting all the professional boundaries you were supposed to maintain.

You barely step into the room when Seungcheol tugs at your wrist, pulling you back and kissing you. Your fingers tangle in his hair while he holds your jaw, his mouth moving over yours, licking and sucking. You hear the door shut in the background, then feel Namjoon’s arms wrap around your waist. He starts kissing the exposed skin between your neck and shoulders.

Two pairs of hands explore your body, taking off your clothes, mouths trailing kisses everywhere. Your head spins as you’re caught between these two in nothing but your underwear, and all you can do is moan as they ravish you. You’re aching for attention. You arch forward, grinding your hips against Seungcheol’s thick thigh, desperate for some friction to ease the ache between your legs.

He pulls away, chuckling. “Someone’s a little eager.”

Namjoon murmurs in your ear, “Are you in a rush or something?” His hand slides between your legs, pulling you against him so you can feel his stiff cock against your ass. He cups your clothed pussy, fingers grazing over the damp material. You moan in response, your neck falling back on his chest.

“No rush,” you manage to say, “But aren’t you guys a little overdressed?” You reach back to palm Namjoon’s hardon through his pants, making him groan in your ear. You were wound up so tight at this point that you hoped one of them would break that seal, and fast.

“Ooh-ho-hoo…alright. C’mon then,” Seungcheol chuckles softly, pulling you away from Namjoon.

He leads you further into the room, until you find yourself standing by the foot of the bed.

“Before we start, is there anything you won't do?” Seungcheol asks.

“Or is there something specific you’re curious to try?” Namjoon adds, gauging your comfort level.

You appreciated their thoughtfulness and took a moment before sharing your boundaries with them.

“I’m not into DP or any kind of anal play. Choking is a no-go, and hard pass on any degradation. Besides that, I’m open to trying stuff.”

Namjoon nods. “And hey, if you're not feeling it, just let us know. We'll stop right away.”

Nice to know that chivalry isn’t dead, even in a threesome.

“Alright, that's settled then,” Seungcheol grins, but his smile quickly shifts to something more serious. “Now, sit,” he says softly. Without missing a beat, you sit down on the edge of the bed.

With his eyes locked on you, he slowly unbuttons his shirt, then moves to undo his pants with the same deliberate pace.

Your pulse races, your body buzzing with excitement and impatience. “We don't have all night, you know,” you said, watching his hand slip past his boxer-briefs’ waistband, stroking himself underneath.

“I know,” he says.

Movement from your periphery distracts you. You see Namjoon settling into one of the chairs by the window. He looks just as mouthwatering outside of his suit, all bare-chested and—

You yelp when Seungcheol jerks your hips to the very edge of the bed, your thighs on either side of him. Lowering himself, he whispers a warning into your ear. “And I also know that you want him…”

He glances at Namjoon, then back at you. Suddenly, you feel sheepish, like you've been caught trying to sneak another serving of cake before you've taken a bite out of the first slice you were given.

“I can make you feel good, too,” he breathes. He nips your earlobe, then rubs his hard length against your center to tease you. You moan, bucking your hips to feel more of him, but he’s got you pinned to the mattress.

“Besides, my buddy here prefers delayed gratification, and you—look really needy right now,” he points out. “I can help with that.”

Your core clenches desperately at his offer. “Please,” you whine.

He decides to taunt you, to make you squirm a little more. “Please, what? Use your words,” he says with a teasing lilt in his voice.

“Make me come… please.” You smile sweetly and bat your eyes at him. “Didn’t you say you preferred to get right to it, and eat?” You remind him of what he said earlier, hoping he'd finally end your torment.

He grins at your pouting, clearly amused. Teasing him a bit more, you reach back and unhook your bra. As you slide it off your shoulders, you catch his gaze and notice him licking his lips in anticipation.

He tilts your chin up and leans in for a kiss. Your hands instinctively wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. You sigh in contentment, lost in the moment, as his tongue explores your mouth, savoring you.

“Let’s get rid of these,” he says before slipping your panties off. He moves down, leaving a trail of kisses on your chest. He takes a hardened nipple in his mouth. You inhale sharply at the feel of his tongue circling and teasing it.

He moves lower, settling between your legs. Spreading them wider, he traces your inner thighs with his lips. He gently sucks at the flesh, purposely avoiding your center, prolonging the ache between.

He lifts your legs and props them on his shoulders. With his mouth lowered, his nose grazes your folds, making you shudder. He inhales deeply. “You smell intoxicating,” he says, before you feel his mouth on your clit. You let out a lingering moan at the contact.

“Ohh, right there,” as you push your hips shamelessly at his mouth. Your hunger builds as his tongue licks and flutters over your slick.

Your back arches, gripping the sheets as he inserts a finger, then a second. You throw your head back, eyes shut, lost in complete pleasure.

The mattress dips gently above where you lay. Feeling a warmth on your cheek, you open your eyes to see Namjoon lowering his lips onto you. You moan softly into his mouth while Seungcheol continues to lap at your soaked core, with his fingers dipping in and out of you.

Namjoon palms your breasts, teasing and pulling at your overly sensitive nipples.

“I love how responsive you are.” His tone carries that deep rasp that tickles your senses. You were incredibly turned on, feeling both the thrill of submission and the power of being serviced by two insanely hot men. Every touch, every whisper heightens the intensity, leaving you on the edge.

“I cannot wait to taste you,” Namjoon says, punctuating every word.

His voice triggers your release. That last bit of control snaps, and your body goes rigid. Your jaw goes slack as your orgasm takes over.

“F-uck…” you barely manage to say. Namjoon keeps caressing your face, helping you come back to reality.

Just as you're catching your breath, Seungcheol looms over you. He reaches above your head to grab something from Namjoon. After slipping on the condom, he hooks your leg around his waist to open you up for him. In one smooth move, he's in deep.

You moan breathlessly, wrapping your other leg around him as he finds his rhythm. Your fingers dig into the curve of his ass, leaving little crescent marks all over his skin.

“So good…” he breathes out.

Hearing rough groans above your head, you crane your neck. Namjoon is leaning against the headboard, fisting himself. His eyes blown out with arousal while watching you get fucked by his best friend. You want to take him in your mouth, but his cock is out of reach.

“I want him,” you say with a hungry look in your eyes. Then, turning your attention back to Seungcheol, “But I also want you to keep fucking me.”

His brows shoot up in surprise at your bold request, and he and Namjoon exchange looks, slightly taken aback.

“I did say I could multi-task,” you remark with a smirk, your confidence unwavering.

Slowing his hips, Seungcheol grins devilishly, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Greedy girl, huh?”

Your reply is straightforward and unapologetic. “I want what I want,” you shrug. 

With a quiet laugh, Seungcheol pulls out, leaving you feeling bereft, but the promise of what’s next keeps you eager. Then, getting on your knees, you crawl over to Namjoon, your movements slow and calculated, savoring the anticipation. You look up at him and smile, then plant a swift kiss on his lips.

You dip down and give his cock some light licks, teasing the sensitive skin with your tongue. A deep groan rumbles from his chest, giving you a surge of satisfaction. You lower your mouth, taking your time, making him inhale sharply when the tip hits the back of your throat.

As you find a rhythm, Seungcheol watches intently, riveted at the sight before him. He traces your spine, trailing his fingers down your lower back. He presses lightly, urging you to bend further and lift your ass higher. He uses his thigh to push your knees wide, ensuring you're in the most optimal position for him.

Your cheeks hollow as you take long, deep pulls. Your tongue traces his length, flicking the tip when you reach it. Then, your body stills, pausing to let out a strangled moan at the shock of Seungcheol burying his cock in you from behind.

Namjoon looks down at you, his eyes filled with lust. “Don’t stop,” he begs softly.

Once you gather your bearings, you lower your head again. He runs his fingers through your hair, gathering it in one hand to keep it away from your face.

“Ahh…shit,” he hisses through his teeth. With a hooded gaze, he watches his cock slide in and out of your mouth.

He writhes in pleasure, giving into your ministrations, resisting the urge to push your head down and fuck your mouth mercilessly. His self-control turns you on even more, so you take him in deeper, pumping him with your hand while your mouth works up to the tip. You moan around Namjoon, and the vibrations from your lips send him into a frenzy.

Although you wish you could fully relish in satisfying him, you can’t help but get distracted by your own arousal as the heat in the pit of your belly grows.

Seungcheol’s hips churn, rubbing and thrusting into you, hitting the spot that makes you want to come more than anything. His fingers dig deeply into your flesh, likely to leave bruises the next morning, but right now, you couldn’t care less. You are getting fucked good and plenty tonight.

The air fills with the sounds of your moans and the rhythmic smacking of skin against skin. The room is thick with the unmistakable scent of sex. It’s a heady mix that you’re happy to surrender to. Your free hand finds your pulsing clit, knowing that one stroke would send you right over the edge.

You pull away from Namjoon seconds before you cry out, your core spasming with your climax—this one more intense than the first. Your walls clenching within sets off Seungcheol’s own orgasm.

“Fuck, I’m coming,” he breathes out, followed by a drawn out groan when he releases inside you.

As the euphoria fades, he pulls out and collapses to one side of the bed, utterly spent. Meanwhile, you slump onto the mattress, feeling the lingering warmth and the aftershocks of your orgasm.

He gets up, intending to make his way to the bathroom, when you suddenly reach out and give his ass a playful smack, catching him completely off-guard.

With a soft laugh echoing in the room, he continues toward the bathroom, his hand instinctively rubbing at the stinging skin, a smirk playing on his lips.

Namjoon lays next to you, his fingertips gently brushing over your bare skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. Leaning in closer, he presses a kiss to your shoulder. It’s a sweet gesture, considering the debauchery that just occurred moments ago, and you don’t mind one bit.

“You okay?”

Your lips curve lazily. “Yeah. Are you?”

“Fine,” he replies.

You roll over to face him, drawing closer.

“You should rest a little more.”

Your hand playfully traces patterns on his chest for a moment before sliding down to his stomach. “I’m good to go, and you,” your eyes flit downward, “…look like you’re ready, too.”

He was half-hard seconds ago, but just before you can touch him, he grabs your wrist, pulling your hand up to his lips to kiss it.

You can’t help but frown at his rejection. “But you still haven’t—”

“I know. Let’s just take a minute,” he suggests. “Relax.”

Usually, when someone tells you that, you do the exact opposite. But his voice was so soft and reassuring that your furrowed brows start to ease. He seems to have other plans.

You keep your eyes on him, watching his every move—deliberate, and intentional. He gently strokes your cheek. You watch his hand travel slowly down to your neck, savoring the warmth of his touch as it lingers there for a moment. His hand continues down to your chest, pausing to stroke your nipple. Your eyes shut at the feather-light touches that send goosebumps racing across your skin.

When he reaches the juncture of your hips, he gently pushes you flat on the bed, with little to no resistance from you.

“Keep your eyes closed,” he breathes into your ear. You do so, then feel his hand move past your stomach. You hold your breath, expecting his fingers to touch your wet folds. But instead, his hand stops on your upper thigh, leaving you a bit disappointed.

His lips graze your cheek. “Tell me what to do next.”

Whatever complaints or protests you were about to voice out die out instantly, and instead replaced by growing anticipation. “Rub my clit,” you gasp quickly.

You hear a light chuckle from him before his hand reaches down between your legs.

“Like this?” He asks, then begins to rub slow circles on the sensitive flesh.

“No, up and down,” you tell him. You let out a sharp breath when he does so, and at the right pace. “Ahh, yes…up more…” You hum in pleasure when he strokes the most sensitive spot.

“What next?” He patiently awaits your instruction.

“Talk to me,” you croak out.

His breath blows gently by your ear. “What should I say?”

“Anything…” you pant, “Just want to…hear you.” You didn't think you had a voice kink, but listening to Namjoon speak earlier today was…a revelation, to say the least.

With his silky-smooth tone, he starts whispering the naughtiest, filthiest things you can think of, each word dripping with seduction. His voice wraps around you like a cozy blanket, pulling you deeper into his steamy fantasy.

You’re so wet for me.

So sexy.

As soon as you walked into the room, I wanted to bend you over that table and fuck you senseless.

You beg him to finger you, and he does so, sliding into you, working your sensitive nerves, and building up your need even further with every movement. There's something incredibly erotic about him asking you what you want and you telling him exactly how to please you. This is the kind of fantasy fulfillment that most people can only dream of.

“Should I eat that pussy after I make you come like this? You were making a lot of noises back there for Cheol. Will you do the same for me?”

You nod frantically.

“Yeah? Will you come hard for me?”

You nod again. “Yes, yyesss…don’t stop…”

“Tell me when you’re close.”

“Ahh yes, I’m there…s-slow down.”

He does as he’s told, coaxing your orgasm out of you. “C’mon, baby…let go.”

“Mm…coming—” As you say the words, he presses his fingers up against the roof of your cervix, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

“Let me hear you.”

You let out a deep, prolonged sigh that echoes in the room.

Namjoon’s fingers continue to pump slowly into you, stretching out your orgasm. “There we go, atta girl.”

Your legs tremble, breaths turn into shaky gasps as your walls clench and release around his fingers.

“Holy shit, that’s hot,” Seungcheol says from afar. Fresh out of the shower, he finds himself wishing he hadn’t missed the scene that has your face contorting in pure, unbridled pleasure.

While you’re still reeling from coming, Namjoon turns you onto your side. He then pulls your back flush against his chest, wrapping his arms around you to hold you close.

“You ready for me,” he asks, his teeth grazing your ear. Your body responds instinctively, trying to roll your hips into him. You feel his hard cock against your ass cheek.

“I want to ride you,” you plead.

“You do?”

You want to set the pace, the rhythm…the depth…You turn to face him, tilt your head up, and playfully bite his lower lip. “I want to be on top.”

He laughs, deep and husky, and eventually gives in. He pulls away to reach for a foil packet on the nightstand, sitting up against the headboard as he sheaths himself.

You move up to him, even though your legs feel like jelly. You straddle his hips and drape your arms over his shoulders, pulling him closer. With your eyes locked on each other, you slowly lower your hips. Your lips part with an involuntary sigh as you sink deeper. You fight to keep your eyes open, savoring the feel of him stretching you, filling you completely. 

Catching your hips, Namjoon looks up at you. “Ride me good, yeah?”

Your core clenches reflexively at the challenge.

You lift again, slowly, making you both feel every nuance of that mind-numbing friction. Then, you slam back down, the fullness, the connection, was too good to contain. He shifts restlessly, his hips moving tightly, wanting to feel more of you.

Seungcheol sits beside Namjoon, wanting to get a front row seat. He reaches for your breast, palming it as he lazily strokes his cock. “She feels good, huh? Nice and tight.”

“Mm-hmm,” Namjoon agrees. “Sweet mouth on her, too.”

Seungcheol hums, his lips curling into a dark, enigmatic smile. “Mm, I’ll have to try that for myself,” he says, his voice dripping with need.

Just thinking about having Seungcheol's thick, hard length in your mouth drives your senses wild, making your walls clamp around Namjoon, causing him to hiss through his teeth.

Seungcheol chuckles softly and decides to tease you a bit more. He rolls and tugs on your nipple. “Can I come on your tits?”

“Hmm… yeah…” you hum vaguely as another wave of throbbing hits your center.

With a soft growl, Namjoon captures your mouth, sliding his tongue into it. His hand cups the back of your neck, holding you right where he wants you. You kiss him back, matching his ardor while you rock back and forth against him.

He pauses the kiss and supports your back as he changes position. He gently guides you to lean back, allowing him to go deeper. You place your hands behind you for balance, steadying yourself on his thick thighs as he moves inside.

Seungcheol watches with a lust-filled gaze, his eyes darkening with desire as you and Namjoon fuck. Each movement heightens his arousal, and his breaths grow rougher. His hand moves in sync with your rhythm. His strokes grow more rapid, but still controlled; he wants this to last as long as possible.

You gaze at them with heavy-lidded eyes. Namjoon looks so tempting beneath you, his neck straining with effort, beads of sweat forming on his forehead, and his breath coming in ragged gasps. Seungcheol, with his jaw slack and eyes half-closed, has every muscle in his body taut with anticipation.

A sob escapes your lips  as your entire body trembles with another promise of an orgasm.

Namjoon places his hand just below your belly, teasing your clit with slow strokes of his thumb as his thrusts turn messier.

“I’m close…don’t…stop,” you stutter, thighs burning as sweat breaks through your skin.

“Fuck,” he bites out, his teeth grinding,

Burying his face in your neck, he tightens his grip on your hips, holding you firmly in place as he continues to slam harder and deeper into you.

You cry out, your body shuddering as pleasure washes over you. Every nerve ending is alight, and you’re fighting to catch your breath.

His hips start to slow down, and you can feel his muscles tense. He tightens up for a second before finally letting go, the rumbling in his chest reverberating as he groans deeply into your shoulder.

Peering in Seungcheol’s direction, you wrench away from Namjoon, a soft moan escaping his lips as you get off him.

“May I?” Your lips hovered over his cock, waiting for him to give you permission.

Nodding, he moves his hand to give you enough space to scoot closer to him. You lick your lips, then take him in. He throws his head back and lets out a deep sigh, gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turn white.

You hollow your cheeks, and his response is immediate, his breath hitching as he fights to maintain control.

He sucks in a sharp breath when you run the flat of your tongue up his length before your head dips down again. “Geez….ffuuuckk, this feels so good.”

He looks down at you, cups your jaw, and holds your hair with one hand to guide the pace. With a deep groan, he shifts his hips, pushing into your mouth.

Driven by the desperate sounds he made, you suck harder, determined to make him come again. Face flushed, and stuttered breaths escaping through his parted lips, he is completely at your mercy.

“I’m close, I’m close,” he says in a hurry.

You pull away, but remain bent over, pushing your tits up toward him, offering yourself to him.

He sits up, balancing on one knee. With a few definitive strokes, he spurts onto your chest. His moans of pleasure fill the room, his face grimacing in agonized bliss as he rubs out the last remnants of his release.

Namjoon approaches, handing you a warm, wet washcloth. A shower would be ideal, but this will do for now as exhaustion finally hits you. You fall backward onto the mattress, with Namjoon and Seungcheol sitting up against the headboard on either side of your legs.

The three of you lay in silence for a few moments, staring at the ceiling, heartbeats settling, basking in your post-orgasmic haze.

Namjoon interrupts your thoughts. “Are you alright?”

With heavy eyelids, you look at him, muster a hum, and offer a weak nod before your head lolls back on the bed.

“Tired?” Seungcheol asks, massaging your ankle.

“Naaahh, I can totally go for a couple more rounds,” you reply sarcastically, making everyone burst out laughing.

“Well, now you know how our team works,” Namjoon remarks with a chuckle.

You snort. “Interesting team-building activity.”

“I think we should do more of these, don’t you think?” Seungcheol counters.

You sit up, laughing and shaking your head. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

He raises an eyebrow. “We could always arrange another meeting if you need more... convincing. Over dinner, maybe?”

Namjoon chimes in, “We can add it to the contract? Make it official?”

They both stare back at you with eager eyes, waiting for your response.

Pursing your lips, your mind races with possibilities, and you can't help but feel a thrill deep within you.

“Maybe,” you smirk.

BTS Fic Masterlist | SVT Fic Masterlist

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[satorkive]

REWIND: JUJUTSU TECH—2006

“gojo-sensei, i’m home.”

megumi who just got home from school called out for his teacher. his training with nobara and itadori ended a little bit late.

he found gojo sleeping in the couch with a laptop on. he stared at his teacher’s face with dry tears streaked on his cheeks. megumi who became curious because gojo didn’t let his vulnerability out and he’s probably crying because of something he had watched.

there were various tapes scattered around the table and the laptop had the pause button. he quietly placed himself in front of the laptop and pressed the play button.

in the beginning there was darkness, but a girl their age or probably older than them sat in front of the camera.

she looked pretty. megumi thought in awe. although there was a dull look in your eyes and your skin looked like blood had been drained out of you, you looked effortlessly stunning.

“satoru, if you ever watched this tape, i’m already dead.”

megumi slowly blinked at your blunt words. oh.

you let out a humorless laugh. “i’m sorry for my… vulgar words, satoru. i…” you looked down as you played with your fingers on your lap.

“y’know how i have this weird, but strong sense of intuition that always happened when i predict? i have that feeling—the exception is, i can feel it in my soul that i would already die. in this mission. that the higher ups assigned to me.”

the spiky-haired boy observed how you took a deep breath as if you were resisting the urge to burst out.

“i’m sad because i won’t be there to witness you slaughtering them.” you gave the camera a sweet smile.

your smile dropped and you looked away from the camcorder. the grainy effect made you look more… vintage. just a memory from the past. you were once someone’s person and now you were just someone’s memory…

“i’m sorry if i wouldn’t be able to fulfill my promise to you—to never leave you behind. i’m sorry if i wouldn’t be there to wipe your tears when you cry. i’m sorry if i wouldn’t be able to lend my shoulders for you to cry on. i…” your voice cracked and tears started to fall like crystals on your cheeks.

megumi could feel the pain she’s feeling and his lips turned into frown.

“i’m sorry if i was giving up, not bothering to fight for my life because to be honest, satoru, i ask myself at night with the question: who am i doing this for?”

when the teenage boy looked at you, he felt like you were seeing him. like you were sitting in front of him, asking a simple question.

“is it for the civilians so they won’t have to endure anymore? is it for the children so they won’t have to go to war anymore? is it for the future so they would be able to live a peaceful life? or…”

“is it for the selfish elders who send children to fight for the sins they have committed?”

oh.

“why do the children have to pay for their forefathers’ sins?”

a sob broke you out and megumi could only watch in pain as you went hysterical.

it was saddening to see you—a person who clearly the world doesn’t deserve—need to sacrifice your life for the betterment of the world.

that’s how a jujutsu sorcerer works, unfortunately. you clearly don’t belong in this world. in this cruel, awful world.

“whoever manages to find this tape, i hope you will take care of my friends—satoru, suguru, and shoko. i hope you will give them the patience to grieve and to mourn. i hope you will be able to give them the care and support they deserved. i hope you will be able to see them for who they are, and not for what they are. i hope you will be able to see hope during the darkest times. and i hope you will be able to feel grateful even if your life is just a borrowed time.” you tilted your head and delicately smiled.

you let out a last giggle. “this is [last name][name], signing off. goodbye.” you pulled the camera closer to your face and gave a smooch.

the laptop went black and megumi could only blankly stare at the wall.

what a world they live in.

such a life doomed from the start and they could only wait as death came for their friend.

what a… life.

you didn’t know then, your death is the beginning of all tragedies.

[clone-whore-99]

*slides $900 In Monopoly money over*

Got any sub!Tech and Dom!femreader in the back?

Behave

Sub!Tech x Dom!F!Reader

Rating: 18+, this page is only for adults

Warnings: Dom/sub relationship, restraints, blindfolds, safewords, oral (M! Receiving), edging, teasing, orgasm denial, light slapping, biting, unprotected PiV, not proof or beta read cuz I wanted this up before Tech Tuesday ended LMK if I missed any (✿◡‿◡)

Authors Note: *pockets the money* your wish is my command. Okay, I wrote this really quick and I do hope it lives up to your expectations. I am mainly a sub myself, so it was a fun challenge to write this as a dom instead. Hope you like it!

If you like it, please do let me know by liking and commenting and maybe even reblogging, it would mean a lot to me 🥺👉👈

If you want to, you can also help me by buying me a coffee ❤

The waiting. The anticipation. Never knowing when or where the next touch was going to come from. That was probably the worst part for Tech… And the most exciting.

Once again, Tech found himself completely naked and sprawled out on a bed. His hands were cuffed to the headboard above his head and his vision was obstructed by a blindfold.

This soldier was completely at your mercy.

Your hand barely caressed his cheek, but it was enough for a visible shiver to run down his body.

“Have you thought about what you did?” Your voice sounded like poisoned bristlemelon. Sweet, but deadly.

“Yes.” Tech replied, his voice restraining to hide his desperation. “And I deeply apologize.” 

Not letting him off that easily, you lightly tucked at his restraints. A sign for him to continue talking.

Tech let out a shaky breath. For such a genius, he could be oblivious at times. But this time, he was certain about what he did wrong. “I am sorry for having interrupted you, my dear. I will do better next time.”

Good. He’s learning.

You got up and walked towards the other end of the bed, your finger lightly tracing his bare skin on the way. “We both know you won’t. But that’s why I am here. Safeword?”

Your hand was inching closer to where he wanted it the most, closer to the inside of his thigh, closer to the only part of him that wasn’t lying down. 

“I won’t need it.” He was trying so hard to hide the desperation in his voice, but lost all composure when you pulled your hand away. With a desperate gasp, his hips shot up from the bed, looking for the much needed touch you denied him. 

You lightly slapped his hip, making him lie flat on the bed again. “That’s not how this works, love. If you want me, I need to know it. Now, safeword?”

“Macrofuser.”

Of course that was his safeword. You smirked to yourself and the weight of the bed by Tech's feet shifted, as you finally settled in.

“Good boy,” You praised, with a kiss to his thigh as a reward. His stiff cock twitched in response, needy and already dripping with precum. 

You had made sure he was all riled up, by the time you cuffed and blindfolded him. And you had made him wait for what probably felt like forever to him, every now and then making small sounds and touches to keep him aroused.

He had been good. Only begged to be touched once, when you used a loud toy near him, to pleasure yourself. He deserved a little treat.

With one hand on his thigh, inching slightly closer to his hard member, the tip of your fingers on the other hand brushed against his shaft. 

This was enough for the clone to let out a loud moan, his hips bucking into the air.

“Easy now, soldier, you want this to last, don’t you?” You asked, your voice a mix of humor and danger.

“Ah yes, apologies.” Tech’s voice was barely louder than a whisper, all his energy and focus was spent on you and your touches.

Your fingers kept running up and down his shaft, not fully grasping and stroking it, but enough to keep him whimpering and needy. Your other hand abandoned his thigh to cup and massage his balls.

The small sounds he made was like music to your ears. You loved this. The genius who never shut up, completely at your mercy. All his thoughts had been replaced by you and his voice turned into an instrument that only you could play so beautifully.

It was hard for you to control your own need, when he was completely displayed like this and his body begging for yours.

Leaning over, you replaced your fingers with your tongue, placing it flat on the base and running it up the shaft, all the way to his head. You ran your tongue in circles around his tip, before completely engulfing him in your mouth.

It was impossible to fit all of him, without choking yourself. He was long and girthy, with a slight curve to it. Every time you sucked him off, it would turn into a sloppy mess - and this time was no exception.

A mixture of precum and spit was running down the part your mouth couldn’t reach, working as lube for your hand, which was now fully grasping and working his shaft.

It didn’t take long for Tech to lose what little control he had left, for his legs to do little kicks in an attempt to ground himself, for his hips to buck him deeper into your mouth to chase his high and for his whimpers to turn into full blown moans.

You let this go on for just a little bit longer, just long enough for his balls to tighten, for him to nearly cum - and then you pulled away.

Tech cried out in frustration, his legs and hips still moving in the hopes of creating enough friction to carry him the rest of the way. Though he felt his high slip away, like sand between fingers.

You waited a bit, watching to make sure he wasn’t actually in any real distress or discomfort. Once assured of this, you patted his thigh to calm him down, while clicking your tongue in tsk-tsk sound. “You know love, if you want to cum, you need to behave.”

“It was a natural reaction, I had little to no cont-”

The sound of skin hitting skin interrupted him, as your hand landed on his thigh in a slap - not enough to truly hurt him, but enough to leave a mark. 

“No excuses,” You ordered.

With a defeated sigh, your genius apologized once more, keeping it short and direct. And with no explanations added to it.

“Better,” you praised, your hand caressing the skin that was just slapped. Then you pushed yourself further up the bed, climbing his slim frame and leaving a trail of licks, kisses and bite marks on your way.

With a last playful bite to his neck, you sighed contently. “Oh Tech, whatever shall I do with you? An exceptional man in every way, and yet you still don’t know how to follow orders.”

A smirk appeared across the soldiers lips, a rare but welcoming sight. “I suppose we just have to continue these lessons, until I do.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were enjoying this.” You chuckled, as you began lining yourself up with him.

Everytime his head just graced your lips, Tech gasped in anticipation, his whole body stiffened and shivered, waiting for the glorious feeling of being inside of you.

You lowered yourself onto him, throwing your head back in a moan of ecstasy. It didn’t matter how many times you’d experience this, he always stretched you perfectly and hit all the right spots. It was like the two of you were made for each other.

Tech always managed to hit that special spot, deep inside you, that made you see stars in no time.

As you began moving, finding the right rhythm and pace, the two of you moaned in harmony, creating music like no other.

Knowing that Tech wouldn’t last long after everything you’d put him through, you began rubbing rough circles on your own clit and teasing your own nipples, to hurry your own orgasm along the way.

Tech smiled knowingly, feeling your hand against his pelvis, he knew you were working to make the two of you orgasm at the same time. He was also, between moans, stuttering the components to different metals, trying to keep himself from cumming without your permission.

In any other situation, you would have punished him for this, but you were so close yourself, that you were willing to let it go. Especially since Tech was pushing his cock even further inside of you and making it twitch in the most delicious way.

You leaned over and left open mouthed kisses on his neck, before whispering in his ear: “Cum with me, my love.” An order you did not have to repeat.

Tech’s head was thrown back in ecstasy so hard, his blindfold flew off. The groan he let out vibrated through your body, as ropes of his seeds shot deep into you.

The feeling was overpowering for you too, making you bite down on his shoulder to keep yourself from getting too loud. Your hands dug into his skin and he was struggling against his restraints. 

Wave after wave of pleasure shot through the both of you, a seemingly never ending high.

You collapsed on top of him, gasping for air, as his cock began going soft inside of you.

But your job wasn’t done yet.

Reaching up, you freed the soldier from his restraints and helped him put his goggles back on. You placed your hands on his cheeks, caressing them gently.

“How are you doing? You did so well, you were so good. Do you need anything? Water? Food?”

An exhausted chuckle escaped the genius' lips, as he wrapped his heavy arms around you, holding you against him.

“Just let me hold you for a while, okay?” He whispered against your head.

“If that's what you want,” You agreed, resting against him.

Dividers by: @djarrex and unknown

Taglist: @zoeykallus @the-rain-on-kamino @ashotofspotchka @chxpsi @maulsrightleg @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @wildmoonflower @nunanuggets @lokigirlszendaya @wholesuhmsstuff @pb-jellybeans @dangraccoon @roam-rs

Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist (✿◠‿◠)❤

[inknopewetrust]

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎

summary: you are recruited to the spider society after conducting a batch of vigilante actions against the men who killed your husband, miguel and well... their leader isn’t like the man you remembered.

pairing: miguel o’hara x spider-woman!reader [wc: 12.7k]

warnings: language. this has got everything: backstory, meeting, conflict, angst, sadness, tie-ins with the film, (i hope you're reading this in a stefon voice), ethical dilemmas, vigilante shit, violence, romantic love strains, etc., etc.

Manhattan was rainy. It was always rainy.

But let’s do this again, shall we?

The skyline was high. Muddled variants of blues and reds, the colors that had painted your life for a decade now. It was silly to imagine a world of color beyond that–it's all you knew, you had nothing left.

And all of that nothing was the consequences of the dealings of a few bad men.

You breathed in deep. They were right there, right below your feet.

Their laughter in their indifference to life was vexing. It made your blood broil and bubble to the surface where you thought your eyes may have been red and your grip on the stone building was onerous.

In the distance, police sirens blared across the city where crime did not take a backseat because their most treasure hero was rogue. People were in trouble but you saw cessation of hope with every second that passed and those in charge did nothing to avenge your husband.

Husband. Nevertheless, what you had was gone and never coming home to you. The least you could do was try to find the justice to be brought by your own hands.

"Nah, man..." One of the men–a blonde, high-tech worker from the east side of town–shook his head. "We can't go there. They've got cameras all over the place! Ain't no way we are gettin' out free."

"Well then we go downtown and hit one alongside the river. We'll set up a boat and get us to Brooklyn before they can even suspect anyone was there," another collaborator said. Blondie shook his head determined.

"You think Spider-Girl isn't gonna be waitin' for us?" He scoffed, scuffing his shoes against the pavement. You perched straighter as you peered down. Spider-Woman. It was Spider-Woman.

“She got Mikey last week, Simon two days ago… we don’t have much left and if you think robbin’ fuckin’ Wall Street is gonna save us, you’re wrong.”

A sensible criminal with blood on his hands. Nice.

“Besides, they got the police captain on her ass and while they’re out lookin’ for her, they won’t sweat the small stuff,” blondie pulled a black ski mask from his jacket.

“It’s now or never,” he slipped it on and walked to the door of the bodega on the corner. He held out his hand as if his friend was actually a true friend and not a piece to his own networked puzzle.

Your stomach turned and the sight made your spine tingle.

Outside on the sidewalk of the street in the rain of New York City, the two men who were left of the dirty dozen walked into the grocer with no intention to buy anything.

It hadn’t dawned on you that as you dropped to the pavement, you weren’t wearing your suit or mask.

The hub was quiet.

In this slick world, everything was silver and green and the headquarters were no different — yet too different for Peter to know that he wasn’t from this universe and always felt out of place.

A picture on desk that wasn’t his grounded him to a separate reality; one of love and hope and a small child’s laughter.

Spider-Byte’s was typing away on the keys beside him while he tapped away on the table top.

Nothing exciting had happened since the… glitch. It had been a long nine months without the glue that had put him back together.

That was until Spider-Byte’s computer started beeping in a manic fashion. It was a sound neither of them had heard before. A high pitched siren blaring loudly from a machine the the left of Peter, a button glowing red and flashing.

“Uh,” Peter pointed to the button, “you got any clue what that’s about?”

Spider-Byte shook her head as she pulled up a database on a screen. Her tech hands glided over the keys like music, fluid and fast and working with a purpose.

“Some system Miguel’s got here,” she muttered and Peter attempted to cover the small speaker beside the button with his hand—it didn’t work.

“Where is he? He said he’d be right back and now we’re facing the end of the wor—“

“I doubt this is the end of the world, Peter!” Spider-Byte cut him off harshly. “Now would you be useful and go find Miguel?”

As the dutiful Spider-Person he was, Peter rushed out of the central lair and into the bright white halls of the headquarters. Everyone he passed he asked the same question:

“Hey! You’ve seen Miguel anywhere?”

“Yo! Seen the big man around?”

He slid up to a group of variant Julia Carpenters as they sipped on coffee in the cafeteria. Peter gave them a sly smirk, trying to be cool, and snapped his fingers.

“Have any of you seen the boss today? Looking fine as usual.”

Synchronized, the Julia’s pointed to the empanada station and sure as shit, there was Miguel, talking with the vender who yes, just happened to also be a Spider-Man.

“Miguel!” Peter screeched from the table and Miguel’s mind went soured. A violent jolt to his instincts as the new father came barreling toward him.

“¡At no…!” Miguel mumbled to himself as Peter skidded to a halt, dropping his hand on Miguel’s shoulder with a clunk.

“Hey, Boss! Whatcha… watcha doin’ out here?” Peter chuckled nervously and Miguel narrowed his eyes. “You said you’d be right back.”

“I did,” Miguel drawled. “I told you five minutes and it’s only been three, Peter.”

Peter laughed, glancing around the space as confused gazes began to pick up on the pebbles of sweat that dripped from his temple.

“Oh! You don’t say?”

“What’s so impo—“ Miguel began but never finished. Lyla appeared out of thin air with a casual urgency unlike Peter’s frantic one.

“We’ve got a doozy here for ya, boss.”

With Lyla, everything came to life smoothly. As she snapped her fingers, holograms of screens appeared like magic and on them, an un-masked, Spider-Woman was beating the shit out of thieves in a bodega.

“Jesus,” Peter whispered to himself.

“He doesn’t come here,” Miguel replied without a smile nor a chuckle but it took Peter back.

Miguel was watching the woman carefully. This Spider-Woman was not apart of the society and was actively doing what no Spider-Person should do. However, Miguel knew the actions. He felt them deep within his bones and the mistakes he had made as a newly minted Spider-Man 2099.

“Name’s Y/n L/n… a former nurse who got mixed up in a bad batch of blood for a transfusion. This isn’t the first time we’ve been alerted about her,” Lyla debriefed and Miguel snapped.

“What do you mean, ‘not the first time?’”

“These are a group of men she’s been targeting. It’s got to do with her,” Lyla cleared her throat that was nonexistent, “canon event.”

“We have to bring her in,” Miguel began walking away from Peter and Lyla followed. “I am NOT having some vigilante shit show up on this doorstep. Peter, get Jess, brief her and get a day pass to bring along.”

“Miguel,” Peter wagered, “what if this is associated with her canon? What if she’s just an anti-hero in her world?”

“She’s not,” Lyla piped back in. “She’s a hero, hero. And this isn’t part of her canon event. You’ve gotta know how grief moves people?”

Miguel grunted, Peter sighed.

“Get Jess. I’ll wait for you,” Miguel pushed on Peter’s shoulder to send him the other way.

Once alone and down the winding halls near the center of the headquarters, Lyla spoke again perched on Miguel’s shoulder.

“Miguel, I think there’s something you should know?”

“Know what, Lyla?” Miguel’s attitude had always been sour—she had been there from his creation and it never changed. He never truly smiled, he never truly laughed.

Miguel O’Hara was a tough nut to crack in a world full of people who lived off joy and laughter.

But she could feel the sensations radiating off of him. Those strident lines of afflictions that were masked by the way he covered his face. The tense nature of his shoulders as he walked further and further away but closer to a person he’d never thought to face again.

It felt like an intrusion all over again.

“You know what, Lyla?”

“I know what you’re thinking,” she defended, hologramed hand squeezing his shoulder. “But there are a million Peter’s and Gwen’s and MJ’s out there.”

“This isn’t her,” Miguel huffed. “She would never do this.”

“But she is, Miguel… and her canon event is you.”

“So a possible disruption?”

“It’s already happened,” Lyla explained, giving immediate explanation to your actions. Miguel did not know you in this way, but he could imagine why such feelings would manifest in violence.

“Good, good.”

Lyla scoffed, hopping to her feet. “I wouldn’t say it’s ‘good,’ boss. You died in her world. You were married in her world. I think she’s gonna wanna slap you for even existing in another timeline.”

“Why?” Miguel quirked a brow. “You know her or something? Keeping secrets from me now?”

To save her, Peter and Jess entered the lair with their bands glowing. Lyla simply shrugged and disappeared before they jumped into an Earth that would feel like they own but be nothing like it.

“Miguel," Jess was already shaking her head. Three months pregnant and still doing work, both Peter and Miguel would not be surprised if the child arrived wearing a suit of their own. "There's no anomaly there–there hasn't been a case in that world of a villain glitching from another."

"It's not about the bad guys," Miguel walked toward them to meet them in the middle. "What she's doing no Spider-Person has done before and what's the purpose of a society if we don't help one of our own?"

Lyla appeared between the three ready to open the portal.

"One last thing, folks!" She walked around casually glowing and pushed up her heart shaped glasses to her hairline. "She's not wearing her suit - so if you don't work fast, her identity will be known to the public and well! We just can't have that, can we?"

"Fantastic!" Peter complained as Miguel opened up the portal. "They are a bit suffocating really, if you asked me."

"Well we didn't," Miguel gruffed.

"What's her name? Just Spider-Woman?" Jess asked. "Should we just yell 'Hey! Spider-Woman! Stop it! You're actually a good person!'"

"Y/n. Her name is Y/n and don't freeze up when you see her, alright bud? Alright! See you all when you get back! Have fun!" Lyla waved, patting Miguel's leg as she walked the floor and disappeared once more.

Stretching out his legs, Peter did not miss the glare Miguel gave Lyla. His eyes cold and hardened; he knew so little of this leader but felt he knew so much. Miguel wasn't like the other Spider-People and well, he assumed perhaps you were not either.

Peter missed that he should have recognized your name.

He had been there with Miguel when the other world collapsed.

"Anything else you wanna tell us, boss?" He pushed. Miguel shook his head and slipped on his mask in more ways than one.

"She's disturbing her own canon by going rogue. I'm not going to let her destroy it because she's... upset."

Jess laughed and Miguel was indignant. "If she's a bad egg, she's a bad egg, Miguel. You can't save everyone."

"She's not a bad one!" Miguel scolded her, pointing out toward the darkness of the portal. "She's not supposed to do this and we need to fix this! Y/n is good!"

Peter smirked, wiggling his brows. He could sense Miguel's anger muddled with a nervous fear he never had. "Y/n, Miguel... first name basis already and we haven't even met her. You move fast, don't you?"

"Oh, you are so fucking annoying! She was my wife!"

Peter's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "Oh no! Not again, nope!"

"She doesn't exist in this world anymore, Peter," Earth 928, "and in another timeline, she's taken the mantle."

Jess jutted her hip out as the whirring of the portal loomed over them. "So you exist in her's too then? This won't be too confusing. It's just like Peter and MJ or Gwen in the thousands of realities that exist."

"Sure, sure," Miguel said. "But there are only three realities where she exists and," he cleared his throat as he looked down the portal, "this is the last one left."

"We shouldn't risk it. We can't collapse another world."

"We won't collapse it."

"How do you know that?" Peter questioned. There was always a level of selfishness when it came to those someone loved most.

"I just... I just know! You're not in charge here, Peter. If I don't have any hesitations right now, then neither can you."

"Well then," Peter strutted through the portal and turned around before his body was completely gone, "Let's go get us another Spidey then, yeah?"

And he saluted Miguel and Jess before jumping in.

"You've been monitoring her world?" Jess asked and Miguel looked to his feet. She had never seen him so bashful. Never one to make a scene of rash emotional actions, the causation would need

"I watch over many worlds."

"Yeah but come on," She dug, "this is a lot different than those worlds. You know her."

"I don't know her," Miguel defended himself and took a step further into the portal. "She isn't my wife. She's just a version of her that I don't know."

"Mhm," Jess hummed and drummed on her arm as they remained crossed from the moment Miguel said you were his wife. "Let's go meet her then. Then you can go on and on about how she's everything you remember but not the same."

And she walked through the portal before she disappeared to leave Miguel alone.

With clenched fists, Miguel breathed in deep and appeared in a reality he promised never to interfere with.

Inside of the bodega, the two men bartered with one another in the aisle. They looked to be two friends having a conversation in the middle of the shop but their intentions were not pure.

The bell above the door rang as you entered. Shoulders and hair wet from the rain, the cashier paid you no mind as he changed the station on his portable radio sat on the counter.

There were three civilians inside. One, the cashier who was oblivious and that is the sole reason these thugs decided to hit the bodega. An 'easy' target to get in and out. Two, a woman who was going grey at her temples. And three, a teenage kid with untied sneakers.

You ducked behind a shelf as you watched them in the aisle beside you. Between the chips and pretzels they concocted their idiotic plan in the presence of innocent people as they always did–it was how their bank robbery disaster went sideways six months ago.

When civilians are present, one of them will always try and become the hero. It is what Miguel did and now he's six feet under in a cold box.

"Excuse me, Miss," the older woman pointed to the bag of chips that your hand was resting on. She turned your attention away from the men. "Could I get one of those? I don't mean to be a–"

The men began to make their moves and you were distracted by the woman. She had kind eyes. Easy and familiar and a familial feeling to them as she waited patiently for you to move.

"Yes, yes," you replied as you got out of her way. "Sorry."

You didn't know why you apologized. Maybe you felt sorry she found herself in this bodega at an hour such as this.

"No worries, dear." The boy wasn't far from her either. He was shuffling through a freezer looking for a drink that wasn't there.

As she grabbed onto the bag, the radio dropped to the floor and turned off. It startled everyone inside and the cashier filled the silence with his desperate pleas.

"Oh my," his jaw chattered, "please... I don't have anything.... I-I-I I've gotta lot of student lo-o-oans and I really n-need this job."

He was staring into a silver barrel of a gun by the hands of the blonde who orchestrated everything. The older woman screeched behind you and the freezer door slammed shut with a "oh hell no!" following its thud.

You imagined the fear they felt was the same Miguel felt that day. Sitting there, hostage on the bank floor with a check to cash from his mother for his birthday.

The check was in evidence splattered with his blood.

In the neon light of the bodega, you made a choice to never let that happen again.

The cashier kept muttering whole-hearted pleas and the friend reached over the counter to open the register's drawer but it was locked.

"Unlock it!" Blondie ordered, shaking the gun closer and closer to the cashier who looked close to wetting himself. Behind you, the older woman crouched to the floor began praying to herself.

"Unlock it now, you son-of-a-bitch! You wanna end up on the floor? Open it!"

The cashier, who now you realized had a name badge on that read 'Max', began to reach for the keys that were hooked onto the counter.

Fear in his eyes, anticipation in theirs, anger in yours.

Anger always caused the tides to turn.

You reached your hand forward in a quick motion and the web that released itself from your wrist snatched the keys from the hook. Max flew backwards in a jolt of despair and the barrel was soon pointed at you.

"Oh you have got to be kidding!" Blondie screeched and fired a shot. He missed. It was sent right into a chip bag and exploded them all over the floor. You tossed the keys to the older woman and went for the gun.

Like child's play, the gun flew across the bodega and into your palm to be crushed like a piece of fruit. It was still hot from being fired and its pieces crumbled to the floor.

"What the fuck–" the woman stuttered.

"So," Blondie spoke and you hated his tone. Condescending and mighty. "Spider-Woman has a face..."

This friend pulled a bracelet from his pocket that lit up green. It glowed as brightly as the neon signs in the window blurred by the rain.

"She does," you replied. "And it will be the last face you see."

He laughed. They always did. It was an inescapable pattern of dealing with enemies who thought they would win. They never did, and they all thought the same way.

"Is that so? I would really hate to have the Bugle's headline to read: Spider-Woman killed innocent civilians at the 6th street Bodega." He let out a series of tisks with a shake of his head. "Who knew heroes could be so bad?"

He looked to his friend. "Herman..."

The friend, Herman, locked eyes on you and approached quickly and with a heavy hand charging with the green of the gauntlet. You could hearing the whirring and the loading of the power.

Instead of moving out of the way, you turned and pushed the older woman away. She slid on the slick floor into a corner with her bag of chips still in her hand.

The shock hit you with a staggering power. It blew you backwards into an ice freezer in the back of the store. As you landed on the ground, the woman whimpered in the corner and the boy caught your eye underneath a table by the restrooms.

He couldn't have been more than fifteen.

And he wasn't going to die today.

So, you got back on your feet and brushed off your jacket. The residual sting of the shock began to wear off and the men looked at you with a challenge.

"Who knew fighting the Spider would have been so easy?" Blondie laughed. "Where were you when we started? It would have been a much more fair fight."

"Busy," you spat.

"Huh," he hummed with a nod of his head. It was like he was trying to clock you–the way his eyes squinted and he tilted his head just a bit higher than it normally would have been. "Say, have we met before?"

"I'm sure I would remember. This is certainly a pleasurable encounter."

Blondie didn't let the words sting. You weren't a Spider who stung with a bite.

"I've seen your face before..."

"Maybe I just have one of those faces," you quirked a brow and Herman charged his gauntlet again. "Is this the worst you can do? Threaten a few innocents and have your friend do all the work? What happened to real criminals, huh?"

"Funny," he walked like a villain. Hands in his pockets, shoes scuffing the floor. "I've heard that one before." His mind raked the last time he heard that.

"Well it must say something about you then."

Herman went to shock again and you shot a web at him. He went soaring into a wall, head hitting it hard.

"I know!" He snapped his fingers like a lightbulb went off inside. Clarity now in a world filled of unclear ways. "I've seen your picture before."

"So what?" You matched his movements as he moved toward the center of the store. Every tight aisle blocked your view like a shutter.

"'Is this the worst you can do?' Someone told me that a short time ago. A man who tried to get in my way."

Miguel.

He was at the bank. He had his check ready, he was at the counter. Miguel had his wallet out and prepared.

He had a photo in his wallet.

"And I think you know how that turned out for him. But here's the thing, Spider-Woman... I don't hate the idea of having that same fate met you tonight. I imagine being so deep underneath the ground it gets a little lonely."

He stopped at the center, so did you.

"I think it's time for you to join him."

But all you saw was red.

There was an intense pulsing pressure inside of the bodega. You weren't sure how much time had passed as your fist dug deeper and deeper into the man who spoke too much and had little to act upon.

Whimpers of those left inside were deferred. The begging of his friend fell on deaf ears.

In the corner beside the three civilians–the woman, teen, and cashier–a glowing hexagonal portal opened to the dimension in which they lived. It hummed like a freezer and moved like something from the cinema they watched last year but instead of aliens appearing from the abyss, three people emerged no different than the way they walked.

They were people, human. Three Spider-People in a world that already had a Spider-Woman.

In their perspective the heroes were welcome. They were terrified and huddled within one another as one robber was webbed to the wall and the other was being beaten to a pulp by a woman with super-human strength.

"Peter," Miguel motioned to the civilians in the corner, "get 'em out of here."

The humble servant Peter was, he acted quickly. His nervous high-pitched voice soothing their fears with panic and disbelief that three masked people walked through a portal as though it was any other day.

"Get the man down, Jess," Miguel pointed to the guy webbed to the wall. Jess tipped her head to the side with an amused, sly grin on her face as he wept. Chick's a badass, she thought.

A violent one at the moment, albeit, but a badass nonetheless.

Fist hovered in the air, you went rigid as the sensations coursed through you. A striking feeling that felt more like a severe headache that came on too quickly, the immense pressure your body suddenly took on wasn't unfamiliar.

You had felt them before. It happened when something in the air changed. When something you knew could disappear or when time was suddenly running short. There was no term for it nor did any other person in this world feel what you felt.

The man below you gurgled. It was, just like the sensation, a sound that awoken something within you. It cleared the vision from red to reality and suddenly the harsh lighting of the bodega and the reflections of the neon signs on the linoleum filled in the edges.

"Shit," you stammered as your grip on his body lessened with every second.

Those consistent strums of radiating itching went from the top of your head to the base of your skull. A humming in the distance turned into a whirring sound that was too extraneous to come from a small place such as this one.

In an instant, the aluminum window covers were pulled from the ceiling by a pair of red, glowing lines reminiscent of webs. It shut out the outside world and the rain that had been pouring down for hours. The neon lights no longer reflected themselves on the flooring.

A hero, a villain... at some point those had all become the same to you.

The ideas that propelled them to act were all based in something that made them feel passionate enough to target an opposing force. When a hero turns to the fragmented middle of the road and balances the line of enemy and friend, the revelations of such shame grow from a deeper place of pain.

"Let him go."

The voice in your head sounded so much like Miguel.

And once your senses stopped going wild, your heart lept into your throat at the thought.

You buried him. You buried him six feet under.

The door to the bodega's alley opened and closed.

"Come on," the voice said again, "let him go and we can clean up this mess."

"Stop," you mumbled, shutting your eyes as your fists clenched the man's jacket harder. The one that had been in the air dropped to his chest. It was wet with the mixture of sweat and blood.

"Stop it please. Please stop it."

"Those civilians are gonna go get the police," his voice was low. It was that kind of voice that Miguel would use to talk you down from a nightmare–or maybe what this dimension had made you.

"And when they get here, what do you think they're gonna do when they see you sittin' over him?"

"Stop talking, stop talking, stop talking–" you repeated again and again. A thud in the distance set the blonde's friend on the floor and a web kept him in place once more.

"Boss they're gonna take her," another voice, not one you had ever head before filled the room and suddenly you were terrified that it wasn't voices you were hearing in your head. "We gotta bring her back with us."

"Alright! Three darling innocents saved again by, you guessed it," a far too cheerful voice added to the collection, "me."

You were curled into yourself over the blonde. Peter saw a woman, not dressed in a traditional uniform, use her powers for bad. But he saw the destruction of the man and knew that it wasn't from sheer wickedness.

He had seen you care so much before. It had to come from a place of caring.

"Well," he cleared his throat, "this is... a lot." And then he blanched.

"Jess," Miguel motioned to your static figure. He turned around and walked away as if to say 'you got it.'

There was an inflection in his voice that made Jess bristle. She hated the tone; removed and vacant. He was already living a humorless existence and the idea that this dimension made you act this way fractured himself in a new way.

"You heard him," Peter went scouring the aisles, plucking a bag of dried beef from a shelf to shove his mouth with. "You got this!" He gave a half-hearted thumbs up.

So, Jess had this.

She didn't crouch down. She didn't attempt to place a hand on your shoulder or help clean off your hands.

Jess kneeled on the other side of the man and your distant eyes met hers to know you weren't alone. You weren't alone in your pain and you certainly weren't alone in this world.

Your first thought was that she was pretty. Your second thought was that this woman was pregnant and that made you sad.

"Looks like you've gotten yourself in a bit of a mess," she spoke quietly but acted quickly. She placed her fingers on the pulse of the man.

He was breathing.

"Who are you?"

"Name's Jess."

"Jess," you repeated, "and Jess comes from...?"

She saw your lip tremble, eyes welling with tears. Jesus, she thought, she wasn't ready to be a mother if she couldn't deal with a thirty-something spider-woman who happened to be Miguel's wife in three different dimensions.

"Earth–404."

"Earth?"

"You felt that, right?" She motioned to her head, mimicking a tingling sensation with her fingertips. You nodded.

"Well, a lot of us have it... and I mean people like you and me... and I know it makes no sense, but if you can fight mutant enemies, maybe you can imagine there are other worlds out there."

"Like planets?" You sniffed and your hands began to shake. Everything bubbling to the surface of pain and anger. "You're from another planet?"

"Not really, but kinda, sure," she agreed for your sake.

"And your friends?"

"Different planets too."

You breathed in a shaking breath. Somewhere in the distance, you could hear the sirens begin to blare. It may have been 10 blocks or 6 blocks, but they were coming and they were coming in fast.

"Now," Jess cleared her throat, "it looks like you've gotten yourself in a little situation that needs a bit of help."

Jess was the most sympathetic she had ever been. The way your hands shook, your tiredness expanded beyond you. Maybe it was the fact she knew what made you go off the deep end that made her feel more thoughtful.

"They, um-"

"It's ok," Jess said and didn't let you finish. "We just need to get you somewhere safe, ok? Me and my friends can help you."

The sheen in your eyes was cloudy. Face wet and brushed with splatter of a man who was not yours, there was a lifeline to get you out of here and you had to take it.

You shook your head softly before it became more frantic. "I don't have anyone to go to... I don't have anyone."

"You do," her hand hovered over the man's body as Peter came back and lowered himself beside Jess. "You're gonna have a whole group behind you if you let us help."

"We'll get you all cleaned up and then introduce you. There is a whole universe of us out there."

"Us?"

"Spider-People?" He questioned, brows furrowed. Jess hadn't been explicit.

"A society," she drew back from Peter. "Like myself and Peter," indirectly introducing him, "and you and–" she stopped short.

"And you want me there?"

"Yeah," Peter said. "I mean, we could use some more badass Spider-Women around."

"But I–"

"Don't worry about all this, alright? We all have our moments."

Peter reached out his hand for you to take. There was a certain level of hesitancy you felt; perhaps it was a trick or maybe you were trapped in another nightmare. But Peter gave a small smile. He gave off a warmth that Jess had exuded and made you nearly forget that there were three voices and not their two.

You took Peter's hand.

The man was breathing, he would live even if he didn't deserve to. The sirens were no more than 3 blocks away.

"You gonna need one of these," Jess held out her hand to reveal a rubber bracelet.

"A day pass," she explained, "to help you adjust."

"Adjust?"

"It's better to ask fewer questions," Peter scrunched his face. "Less confusion for you."

You slipped on the bracelet.

"We good here?"

It was that voice again, the one from the back of your head.

"We gotta go. Time is ticking."

Except this voice wasn't the back of your head now that you've realized there were others in this bodega. As you rose from the floor and began walking as Jess led the way, the friend was passed out on the floor and a glowing hexagonal portal was lingering in the back of the store.

The sounds, the sensations... it meant something.

"All good, Boss. The robbers will live."

The man in the blue suit–from what you could tell–nodded and looked in your direction but said nothing. There was something in your body that was sending alarm bells to your mind but you ignored them.

They weren't like the sensations you had felt before. These were different in a way you couldn’t explain.

“Right let’s, ah,” he hesitated as his hands rested on his hips. You looked at him and he looked away. “Get moving then.”

“What’s going to happen when I go through that thing?” You pointed to the portal.

He didn’t look at you. He couldn’t look at you. All he saw was his wife who used to laugh at his corny jokes and rest her head on his shoulder in bed. He saw, in one dimension, the mother of his child and he saw a happy, generous nurse who loved her job.

But when he looked at you know, part of that image was shattered.

You were a little bit broken and a little bit worn down by the world you lived in. You had blood-splattered clothing and tear stained cheeks and it was enough to make his heart ache more than it already did.

“It will pop you out just where we want you,” Peter said as he took a step into the portal and his body began to glitch with the moving sphere around him. “Just walk in and it will do the rest.”

“And it’s safe?”

“So far, yeah!” And he ran off before he disappeared.

“I’ll see you there, alright?” Jess turned to you, then looked at Blue before giving a smile that was as flat as a dead man’s heart beat.

She walked in just as suave as she came.

Suddenly, it was just the two of you and it felt strange.

There were so many feelings lingering that you couldn’t grasp onto. The air was comfortable but hesitant; there was a barrier of distrust and burden, but one that itched to reach out a hand to help.

“You know,” you sniffed back a chuckle, “I half thought I was crazy for a second.”

“About what?” He asked. “The fact that you almost killed a man or the portals? Both are equally crazy.”

In any other circumstance you would have thought he was being sarcastic.

You shook your head. You were beginning to feel the weight of your actions.

“I thought I heard voices… a voice in my head.”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah,” you glanced at the portal.

A lull. The whirring of the portal, the sounds of police cars went mute when you looked back. Blue was looking at you but you couldn’t see his eyes. You couldn’t see a thing and indeed, you didn’t know his name.

Blue.

Miguel’s favorite color was blue.

“Thank you,” you said earnestly. “For coming here. I think I’m still a bit shell-shocked,” you laughed and he knew you were, “but maybe I was waiting for this… I don’t know.”

“It’s our job.”

Blue was done with the conversation at that point. He walked to the portal, his body glitching just like Peter and Jess’s did.

“Come on,” he motioned to you.

“What’s your name? The other two—they introduced themselves.”

“Spider-Man.”

“That’s not your name.”

He let out a huff. “You wanna be caught by the police? Fine.” He began walking again and the glitching became more erratic.

“Who’s to say you’re all not some group of aliens trying to kidnap me? At least the other two looked like me!”

His patience too was skating on thin ice.

“Come on, kid, let’s go.”

Maybe you weren’t crazy.

“What did you just say?”

He turned his body back to you and walked out of the portal. On the precipice of where you stood just beyond and where he did, he towered over you.

“I’m giving you a chance here. You come with me now or you’re dead here.”

“Kid. You said ‘kid.’ Why did you say that? Why did you say I was a kid?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, let’s go.” Like a rhythmic pattern, he turned back around.

“I’m not crazy. I know I’m not fucking crazy.” You sure as hell looked it. “Why did you say kid? Who told you to call me kid?”

“No one—“

A sudden banging on the door to the bodega caught the attention left in the room. Blondie started to gurgle, you stood steadfast, and Blue was agitated.

You took a step into the portal. Progress.

“Nobody calls me kid, no one. Why won’t you tell me your name? Who the hell are you people? Who are you?”

“We don’t have time for this!” The way he said your name that followed was one you had heard a million times.

It was just like Miguel used to say.

“Take off your mask.” You demanded and stepped further again.

“Take off your fucking mask or I’m stepping out of this goddamn thing and going to prison.”

The police began to feverishly hit the glass with their batons.

“Take it off,” you begged, “please. Please let me see you.”

And how could he say no to his wife who begged so mercilessly?

There was a time where you replayed that moment over and over in your mind.

You could still feel the way your breath caught in your chest. An immense wave of emptiness washed from you and filled with a jittery dismay that had no outlet.

His eyes were no different; the way his lips sat and his brow furrowed.

You felt the silent shed of tears mask your face before the glass breaking set Miguel moving toward you, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the portal.

His touch was the same.

And when he opened his mouth, what he sounded like was different from what he said and you were quick to realize that this Miguel was not your Miguel.

This Miguel despised people who lived happy lives.

This Miguel was mean and callous and demanding

This Miguel worked beyond reasonable hours and made being a Spider-Man his life’s purpose.

That was not your Miguel.

There was no making sense in that moment. You either believed it or you didn't and if you didn't, then they'd drop you back off in a world that had your face plastered on wanted posters and big screens in the middle of the city.

So you made sense of it and made some semblance of life within the four walls of the Spider Society headquarters with the Grade A asshole known as Miguel O'hara – not your husband.

The grief of that worked in waves. It came and went when life continued to move. It was strange to think that what brought you here, to this future, occurred one year ago.

Sat by a window looking out into an Earth that was not yours, you swung your legs as those thoughts crossed your mind. The chatter of a thousand Spider-people filled the space around you.

A thud sounded on the beam a few feet from you. Soft, nearly mute shoes tapping their way beside you. Green. The color of artificial grass in a children's playset, nearly blue.

"Watcha doing?"

There was never a moment of peace here. But you closed you eyes, sighed and a smile quirked on your lips.

"You daydreaming? I wonder what it's like out there..." Gwen Stacy joined the Spider-Society three months ago. "It looks so... contempo."

"Contempo? Where did you hear that?"

"I read you know," she tipped her head up in mock offense. "Kids do read when they're in school."

"Yeah, yeah," you brushed her off.

"So... what are you up to today? I was thinking we could monitor the dimensions with Jess and maybe catch a bad guy or two–" Gwen's fists mimicked boxing, "–and then Peter said he'd bring Mayday around–"

"Slow down," you chuckled. "I am up to nothing, thanks for asking and if that's what you want, sure."

Her eyes lit up when on most days they didn't.

"Really!?"

"Mhm, yeah, sure."

"Great!" Gwen got to her feet and wrung her hands. "Jess was in the control center so–"

"Control center?"

Gwen hummed, hands clasping behind her back comically.

"Yep! Just... chillin' by a screen. You know, she's got that baby on the way and all so we thought it'd be best to keep her inside for the time being and she doesn't like that but she said–" Gwen went on and on as the words came pouring out.

"Gwen."

"–that she would rather die than have to sit here and watch screens all day. I told Peter she would hate it and he agreed with me but sometimes he brings–"

"Gwen."

"–Mayday around just to cheer us up that we haven't gone on that many missions and its always well... you know... and we feel like we can't do anything to help out sometimes–"

"Gwen!" You shouted at her. She stopped her rambling; blue eyes wide and ears listening. "Just... take a breath, alright?"

"Sorry," she said sheepishly.

"You don't have to be sorry," a sharp breath steadied you. "I'm not going to go with you to the control room."

"Please," she begged. You imagined this is what it was like having a teenage daughter who wanted the most unattainable of things. "I promise it will be fine! Miguel's not even there so you don't have to worry about what he said last time!"

"That was three days ago, Gwen!"

"So what!?"

The last time was three days ago.

Ever since you arrived, it had been nothing but anger and hostility pushed toward you from him but you were not easy on him either. It was hard facing a piece of your past that had every connection but no foundation at the same time.

Earth 9591 was in ruins and the screens replayed the horrors of the people over and over. It was desolate. Earth was crumbling in on itself and a medieval Rhino had found itself in the mess as Earth 9591 Peter was on his last leg.

According to Miguel, this Peter was supposed to experience this.

"We can't just let him die, Miguel," you argued as he stood up on his platform above you and Peter. "There is a chance he could live and we're reducing him to nothing because of his goddamn canon?"

"We can't mess with it, you know that." Miguel's patience was running thin. "Every time we can't interfere you come here with the same argument and the answer is always no. It will always be no."

"Why?" You pushed. Sometimes just seeing his face now made you mad. The questions of why this Miguel got to live when your's didn't was something that constantly simmered within you.

"You plucked me from my Earth and brought me here so why can't we do that for him? He'd be healthy and safe here."

"This is supposed to happen to him," he huffed your name as he turned back to the screens. "Not every battle is going to be one that Spider-Man wins and if we mess with it, we threaten that whole dimension."

"Well it sure as hell looks like it's in a bit of trouble, boss," Peter let out a nervous chuckle.

"And so it is."

"But what of Rhino, hm?" He hated the way you rose your eyebrows in question. Every version of you did that. "That's not supposed to be his fate."

"One less villain we have to worry about."

You let out a frustrated groan. "When did you become so heartless? We save people here, Miguel. We don't let them suffer."

"I'm not heartless. I'm being realistic and the fact is that 9591 Peter isn't gonna live and his world will become uninhabitable. That is part of his canon, end of story."

"So my canon said to bring me here?" You asked, hands on your hips. Peter inched backwards from you because he could feel the rumblings of the volcano bubbling.

"Take me from my home and bring me here for what? To have another person go along with every decision you make? Newsflash, Miguel, that's not going to happen."

"Oh, really?" He laughed, sarcastically, and looked down at you from above.

"Yes, really. Maybe this canon bullshit is just that, bullshit. Maybe you made a mistake–"

"I didn't make a mistake," he defended loudly. "I am not letting other worlds get destroyed because of stupid decisions."

"So it's only a stupid decision when it's a reality that we both exist in?"

If Peter hadn't known any better this would have sounded like a fight between a married couple.

"That's not what I said," Miguel brought his hand to the bridge of his nose and squeezed. "We can't go around making those same mistakes. I am not putting any other lives in danger."

"But you did it when it benefitted you."

Miguel mumbled to himself up there. You couldn't hear. Peter took more steps back and Spider-Byte ducked behind her consul. Miguel's brown mop of hair slicked back with the motion of his hand.

"Well you would've liked that world too."

"I liked the one I was from."

God, some days he really disliked you.

At the same time, when Miguel looked down at you, he saw the wife he knew in a different capacity and it sent his mind spiraling. He didn't sleep, he barely took the time to care for himself because all he could think about was the dimensions of happiness that you both had and the one you've both found yourselves in now.

He hated that he loved the body of the woman he knew but couldn't fully trust the version of you that existed now.

"We're not going."

"Miguel,"

He lept from the platform and onto the level you stood on. Still as large as before, his shadow filled your space before he did and for some ungodly reason, the presence of this Miguel made your heart pump furiously as your husband had.

Miguel had that look in his eyes that made them appear red. Fist clenched at his sides and that same lingering sadness emitting from his person.

"Not another word."

He hated the challenge you took from him.

"Why is it ok that you took me from my dimension? To serve some sick purpose of remembering your wife?" You spat at him.

You were just like her... just a little more broken.

"I'm not her, Miguel."

"You think I don't know that?" His voice was nearly caught in his throat. "You think I don't know that you're not her? It's pretty goddamn obvious you're not her."

"Oh yeah?" Your voice was no different.

You hated when you fought with Miguel in your dimension and that didn't change in this one.

Peter thought he should look away.

"Well she's not here, is she?"

Miguel stared at you. He couldn't help the way his eyes moved over your face. He saw the same eyes, nose, and lips. You were his wife just as he was your husband.

"No," he said as a ghostly whisper, "she's not."

"And maybe I'm not like her but you're not like my Miguel either... so don't make this fall on me. I didn't ask to come here."

"You're here now," Miguel's voice was devoid of feeling. "So get used to the rules. We're not going."

And he stalked off with Peter following on his tail.

If you closed your eyes you could see fragments of Miguel. Now, however, this Miguel was beginning to eclipse those memories.

"Shit..." Spider-Byte snickered from behind her monitor. Her blue glow filling your vision as you looked at her. "I wouldn't take that, mama. I'd kick his ass."

Miguel wasn't there. He was off saving a dimension because canon was all that mattered and Jess was monitoring that other universes just as Gwen had said.

It was a relief.

So, you sat back and watched as Jess and Gwen flipped through the different footage from the dimensions that either lit up red for an anomaly or maintained green for a perfect balance.

Jess flipped through them quickly. Every world passing by your face within a second of seeing the light on the panel turn green. The few instances of red sent her pressing on a communication button before Gwen could complain that she wanted to go out and fight.

Gwen lingered on worlds. She looked at the images as though she wished to be a part of them.

She hesitated moving on from a boy in a black suit just a second too long.

"Gwen?" You asked her as her hand hovered over the button. She was intently looking at him as he moved about the fire escape.

"Gwen?" You reached out a hand to shake her shoulder. She bristled out of her spell and pressed the button before you could ask any questions.

It would be several months later that you'd learn that the boy was the source of it all.

Miles Morales had heard a million versions of the same story.

It all began with a name and that named person being bit by a radioactive spider that magically gave them powers and they used them to save the world, or fight street crime, or kill mice (in the case of that Spider-Cat he saw in the lobby).

They were all the friendly, neighborhood hero that the world needed.

Until the collider messed with their functions and required a society such as this to take on a much larger purpose.

And Miles was taken aback.

He had never felt so seen sans the moment he walked through the doors of the complex. Every turn he made, a new Spider-Person was uniquely fit into their world so different than his own.

Within the chamber of villains from other dimensions, he saw a Spider-Woman without a suit.

"So people like, live here?" Miles asked Gwen who shrugged.

"Some do. We can stay for as long as we like and then go back to our dimensions when we need to."

"And suits are optional?"

Hobie turned around and gave Miles as questionable gaze.

"A uniform is binding, man," he told Miles. "Use what makes you comfortable."

Gwen nearly galloped ahead to the Spider-Woman with a digital portfolio. Miles saw the way Gwen's eyes lit up just as they did when they saw each other again.

Hobie was the one to introduce you. Your named rolled off his tongue like butter–so casual and cool in a way Miles did not believe he ever could be.

"She lives here," He explained. "Can't really go back to her dimension so she does a lot of cataloguing. The main man doesn't want her out of missions... you know," Hobie spun his finger near his forehead, "little crazy that one."

"I'm not crazy, Hobie," you called out as Gwen pointed toward your group.

"No, you're right," he corrected himself. "He's the crazy one."

"That's more like it," you smiled and Miles felt a boyish crush form in his stomach. "Hi Miles. I've heard a lot about you."

You did. Gwen had been giddy in the way she reminisced about her time with Miles. Even Peter put in his two-cents about the way he trained him and it went incredibly poorly for the greater part of their journey together.

You missed a good chunk of time by not being present when they all converged on the same dimension. It may have saved you from yourself.

"Hi," he waved back nervously.

The party kept walking with your addition. Beyond the orange cells of villains captured and waiting to be returned home, a center of technology he could dream of appeared in front of him.

It was just a tour.

Lyla appeared beside you.

"Miguel's hangry," she complained as she looked at her non-existent nail-beds.

"He's probably just angry."

"No," she shook her bob, "it's the hangry kind. You should have the kid pick up something for him... a gift."

"Gift," you chuckled. Miles looked so green. He was amazed by the technology of the go-home-machine that you weren't sure how he would react when he reached the hub. Walking through all of the test technology before going to Miguel's station... he'd be on cloud nine.

"He'll be expecting the party soon."

"I'll stay behind."

You were certain Miguel would be able to hear this conversation but Lyla had a mind of her own–she was artificial after all.

"You should come with. Miles could use your perspectives."

"What perspectives?" This was the longest conversation you had ever held with her. "Oh, Miles," you mimicked, "don't beat criminals to a pulp... um, don't let your anger get the best of you... don't kill people.... yeah, good advice."

"I meant a motherly figure here."

"I'm not a mother, Lyla. Besides, he's got Jess for that."

Lyla glitched to the other side of you. "Jess hasn't taken to him like she did you and Gwen."

"He's got Peter."

"But he could use you too."

You gave a tight-lipped hum.

"Or," she countered, "maybe you need someone like him. It's always strange what effect kids have on adults... makes them... soft or something. You should see the videos of Miguel!" She laughed, you didn't.

"He liked to play soccer with her."

Her. In another dimension, you had a daughter.

"Why are you telling me this?" You asked her.

She waved her hand dissuasively. "Miguel's not going to, so I might as well."

The party began to make their exit. Down to the liar they went and as they walked, Lyla floated in the air beside you. Miles kept peaking back like a child on a holiday.

"Miles," you called out to him.

"Yes?" He turned around quickly and at attention. He was a cute kid. So nervous and out of his element. If it weren't for his merry misfit group of friends, Miguel was sure to eat him alive.

"Do you have a question or is there a reason you keep looking at me?"

He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. Miles then pointed to Lyla.

"Is she a Spider-Person too?"

"No," you told him and Lyla glitched to him. "An A.I. that Miguel created. She knows all."

"She flatters me," Lyla murmured back a smile.

Miles turned back around and continued on with his conversation that bounced between Gwen and Hobie. Lyla disappeared from the hallway as the sounds of old, tinkered experiments and Miles' struggles painted a picture of a much different boy in your mind.

While his struggles were not yours and you'd never understand them completely, his want to belong struck a chord with you in a way it did with Gwen.

There was a family that could be built here if the realities of pain could be ignored.

Above on his floating platform, Miguel slowly descended as Miles gaped in a slight awe. Yes, it was dramatic. Yes, it was unnecessary and it made you roll your eyes.

Hobie stuck to the wall in the back. Gwen took Miles to the edge and you leaned up against a pillar not far from Hobie.

"Miguel O'Hara," Gwen introduced, "meet Miles Morales."

And then Miles butchered his introduction with cheer. He offered up those empanadas which Miguel slipped right into the trash.

And like Gwen, he fumbled his words by rambling about how to catch Spot.

Miguel threw the trash can at them both only for Hobie to sneak the empanada out of the box and into his hand without blinking.

And then everything spiraled out of control.

Miguel's meter began to spike an angry red as the frantic nature of his focus within this world had been protecting the multi-verse. Here, in this room, Miles was the supposed source of it.

If it wasn't for Miles, many of his problems wouldn't exist and he'd be grateful but he can't be, simply because they are truly real.

"Hey Miguel!" Peter's voice broke through the silent seconds. Miles perked up at the sound. "Come on, go easy on the kid. He had a terrible teacher. He had no chance."

"Peter!"

The two hugged like old friends.

"Miles!" Peter put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't be afraid of my friend Miguel. He just looks scary. He's got no bite."

He had seen it once. He chose to ignore it.

So he went on with his little break up of Miguel's serious moment and you watched unfold from the shadows, the orange glow of your tablet keeping you busy while Mayday swung around the room and Miles exasperatedly came to terms with Peter being a father.

"-You always say the 'fate of the multiverse' and my brain dies."

You chuckled to yourself, glancing up at Peter as he circled Miguel. Miguel was holding Mayday like he had never held a child in his life.

That was the kind of thing your Miguel did.

"You guys smell that?" Peter sniffed into the air. He swiftly picked up Mayday and swung right by Miles and Gwen and straight to you.

"You smell that right?" He held her up high. Yes, yes you did smell that.

"That is entirely your problem, Peter."

"Miles–" Miguel caught their attention again. "–You disrupted a canon event."

"Canon event?"

"The kid wasn't thinking," Peter interjected. He held onto Mayday as you strung a web for her to bounce on. Miguel was half torn between the conversation he tried to be stern about and the watching you weave a web for that little girl.

"That's not how he works."

"That's insulting," Miles commented.

Hobie got up from the floor to stand next to you. He caught Mayday in the air, saluting her with two fingers.

"Taking a crap on the establishment... I salute you."

"What are you upset about?" Miles furrowed his brows as Miguel stepped off the platform and walked towards him. The boy would be amiss if he hadn't felt his stomach drop to his feet in the menacing way Miguel O'Hara walked.

"When isn't he upset about something?" You murmured from the back.

"I saved those people."

Ah, yes. Pavitr's dimension. Miguel had been in the go-home-department when it happened.

"And that's the problem," Miguel clarified. "Lyla, do the thing."

As she always did, Lyla appeared with a semi-oblivious nature.

"Huh? What thing?"

"The thing... what do you mean 'what thing?' The information explaining thing!"

She gave a casual 'ok' and the room changed before you.

You had never seen everything before.

Jess had talked about it, Peter mentioned what it looked like, and a few others who had seen it claimed it left them more confused than anything.

It was a bright blue tree, in a sense. Woven with a variation of color that reminded you of the sea at mid-day and the sky at night, everything was a timeline of complete facts of the world. Every moment of every person's lives were tied to this one branch of 'everything.'

Expansive and high, the tree of everything bloomed over your heads and Miles was the one trying to come to terms with the sincerity of it. However, just as he had begun to grasp the idea of everything being resembled by a tree with branches that diverged from its timeline, the room changed to a red web.

Hundreds and hundreds of webs interconnected by lines that captured the very lives in that room. All of them facing convergence by multiple lifelines to different events, canons, and realities that make up a person's existence in the, as he had coined, the Spider-Verse.

"The lines... where the nodes converge?" Miles asked aloud.

"They are the canon."

Every web around him had different nodes. Some had more than others, some had barely any. He noticed a cluster of three big webs with few canon nodes.

"Their chapters apart of every Spider's story, every time. Some good, some bad... some very bad."

Miguel pulled down a cluster to showcase the very bad. You had a sinking feeling somewhere along the line the 'very bad' also included you.

A row of Spider-People emerged in the same position. He saw Peter, he saw Gwen, he recognized you, and then himself leaning over the body of a loved one who perished too soon.

Like a story, Miguel walked through varied canon events that were to occur in many Spider stories. A police captain, a lover, the event that turns someone into a hero, the struggles of the hero.

Miles looked at each of you as a fragment of your past appeared before him.

"That's how the story is supposed to go. Canon events are the connections that bind our lives together and those connections can be broken that why anomalies are so dangerous. Inspector Singh's death was a canon event."

A police captain.

"You weren't supposed to be there."

Even though you weren't there, you saw it unfold from the safety of Lyla's simulation. People running, a bridge nearly collapsing.

"And you weren't supposed to save him. That's why Gwen tried to stop you."

You could see the gears in his brain turning. He was hurt, misguided in his efforts to be a good Spider-Man because it was suddenly becoming a conflict for him. Miles tried to be good. He tried to save people and even doing so, he seemed to mess up.

It was so different from the Spider-Woman you used to be.

"I thought you were trying to save me," Miles admitted to Gwen who had turned her back from him. She kept her eyes to the ground.

"I was. I-I was doing both," she took a chance to gaze back at him only to see the hurt.

She was just doing her job.

"And now, Miles," Miguel sighed and he walked around the space. He planted his feet beside you and Miles took a glance and couldn't tell who was friend or foe.

He didn't know where he stood himself.

"Because you changed the story, Pavitr's dimension is unraveling. If we're lucky, we can stop it. We haven't always been lucky."

Miguel looked at you. He looked at you with a sheen in his eyes that you'd hadn't see from this version of him. For once, he looked as sad as he felt on the inside.

And for once, he wasn't fighting with you about what was right or wrong in that moment.

"That wasn't me!" Miles defended. "That was the Spot."

"It's what happens when you break canon."

"How do you know?"

"Because I broke it once myself."

There was a part of you that wanted out. You wanted out right that second because you had seen enough. You had seen the destruction, had been part of some destruction, and seeing Miguel's world crumble animatedly in front of you wasn't something you wanted. But your feet stuck to the floor. Planted, like mud, waiting to be freed.

It was your story too and you didn't even know what happened.

"I found another world where I had a family. Where I was happy."

In the web, the cluster of three was connected by one single strand to a much larger web with varied canon events. Whatever this was, Miles imagined, was Miguel's universe.

"At least a version of me was. And that version of myself was killed."

This time trying to catch a thief who stole a woman's purse. Not a bank robbery.

"So I replaced him. I thought it was harmless."

You looked away at the scenes. Miguel with her. A little brown haired girl who loved soccer and he did her homework at the kitchen table with her. A father who looked adoringly at a daughter who was joyous and knew no pain.

"But I was wrong."

Then the world began to collapse. In his arms, the girl disappeared as though she had never existed.

"Isn't that right, Peter?"

Your head shot up towards Peter who looked away from you. He had seen you before, in a different reality where you too were happy with the life you lived and where you were happy with a daughter who loved Miguel too.

"Peter?" You gave a weak call to him. He shut his eyes tightly. "Peter, you knew?"

Miles felt the way you felt. A shell of a hero without a purpose with people who made very choice feel like a mistake.

You walked up to Peter. Miles saw the white-knuckle grip you had on the pink robe. This was more than just friends making choices feel like a mistake.

"You knew me?"

Miles glanced back at the web. The three small webs that had little to them stuck out like a bouquet of flowers. Each their own small story.

“Whose is that?” Miles gestured as he tried to ignore the way you prodded at Peter for answers. Perhaps Miles already knew that Miguel had made this more complicated than it needed to be.

He had already destroyed one reality for happiness. Miles imagined that this man could ruin many more if it meant one more second of living.

“These ones?” Miguel pointed to the web of three.

You knew it was yours without even realizing it.

“That’s mine," you breathed in deep.

Even though you hadn't gotten along in this world, Miguel felt the weight of his secrecy fall heavily onto his shoulders.

“You see, Miles,” Miguel started, “there are infinite dimensions were we exist. All these webs here,” he pointed to the connecting lines that reappeared of many lives, “are realities were someone like you may exist. Maybe not as Spider-Man but as something.”

Miguel looked to you and for the first time since he met you in your reality, he saw the woman he fell in love with.

“And her dimensions look a bit different.”

“Why?” Miles questioned. “Why don’t ours look like that?”

“Because you can exist in infinite realities, Miles,” you told him in a voice that reminded him of his mother telling him a relative died. “And I can’t.”

“There is only three of her that exist in our… Spider-Verse, as you put it,” Miguel stated. “And one of them collapsed.”

In a hologram, he saw you in the world they had all just witnessed disappear from reality. Miles saw you running and running and he could see the destination, Miguel and that child, so close yet too far away.

And then there was nothing.

“Oh,” Miles felt sadness creep within him. Gwen wanted to comfort both you and Miles but couldn’t muster it in front of Miguel.

Peter wasn't sure what to do.

One strand of three disappeared.

“And in the other, she’s not here anymore.”

"What dimension is that?"

Miguel sighed. Hands on his hips, he met Miles' intense stare instead of yours.

"This one."

“So there is only me now,” you have a half-hearted smile.

“I thought you said you were the only Spider-Man in this dimension?” Miles asked Miguel as he tried to make sense of this world he found himself in.

“I am,” Miguel clarified. “She’s not from this dimension. Her… alternate self isn’t here anymore.”

He recalled the images of all the Peter’s and Gwen’s and Jessica’s mourning their canon disasters. Loved ones, friends, lovers.

The second strand of three disappeared.

“Does that mean if you…?”

You nodded your head at Miles. Peter put his hand on your shoulder at the admission.

Miguel focused on that hand. He saw the comfort, he saw the friendly love and knew he had wasted time. He had wasted months being angry at you when you weren’t the cause of it.

He had watched over your dimension to keep you safe while you struggled and in his own pain, he made the unity between you strained and unrealistic.

But he also knew the greater purpose.

“I guess I just have to pick the right side.”

You tried to bring levity.

You didn’t realize that you’d be picking Miles and your friends or Miguel and the person you knew because if you didn't you'd lose everything.

And you needed to save yourself in one dimension you still existed in.

Earth 42.

A/N: this isn’t proofed yet. I can totally see a million different sequels to dive deeper into the relationship between reader and Miguel.

As always, comments and reblogs are the best feedback a writer can ask for. I love reading any comments you all leave 🥺. Thank you so much for reading.

Tags:

@csmt-m @er4tous @gracielou0518

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Hi! Sorry, I'm new here 😊 congrats on your follower milestone!!

May I please request prompts 17 and 34 with my beloved Sergeant, Hunter? 🥰🥰

Thank you so much! Looking forward to seeing what you come up with 💜

@photogirl894 Hello love,

I know I said I'd probably wouldn't have time today, but turns out I had enough time to write this one out quickly. I hope you like it. I actually quite enjoyed this one.

Love oo,

Too Close

Warnings: Explosions, blaster fire, falling from a height, injuries, blood, shrapnel, medical procedure, angst, fluff, comfort, hurt. I think that's it, if I miss any please let me know.

Italics - Flashback

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Hunter let out a sigh of relief as you both made it on board the Marauder. His eyes flitted over to your face, you were still unconscious, knocked out from the loss of blood, you’d be stirring soon according to Tech, but it wasn’t making his anxiety calm down. He couldn’t help wondering if there was something he could’ve done differently.

The fog from the explosions, dust and debris was getting beyond bearable, you couldn’t stop coughing as you hid behind the cargo crate. Your helmet had been shattered when you smashed it against the ground when your rappelling cable broke. Thankfully it was only when you were eight feet from the ground, but it could’ve been much worse than a broken helmet. 

Of course, it didn’t help that you were stuck hiding behind the crate with Hunter, because a piece of shrapnel embedded itself in your thigh, and was doing little to hamper the loss of blood. They always tell you to leave the shrapnel in, until you saw a medic, but at this point, you’d be lucky to just see the next twenty minutes. 

You pushed down hard on the wound, Hunter’s bandana doing little to help as he tried to wrap it around your thigh. 

“Hunter, leave me” you shouted over the explosions and blaster fire. These Separatist droids weren’t backing down. 

“Stop talking, it’ll make you pass out faster.”

“Hunter please!” You grabbed the lip of his chest plate and got him to look at you, “I can’t see you dying. So please, go!”

“I’m not dying and neither are you so stop distracting me and press on the wound!” His hand engulfed your thigh pressing down hard, stopping the trickle of blood that had pooled under your thigh. 

Before you could speak another rain of debris showered over you, Hunter pulled you under him as he shielded you with his torso. “Please… I can’t … I can’t see you get hurt because of me.” You pleaded to the man who held your heart and soul, your eyes welled up with tears as you looked at him, “Please, Hunt …”

His eyes widened, it was a nickname you reserved for him only during your quiet time together, only in the privacy of your quarters did you ever call him Hunt. You must have been in a really bad shape if his nickname slipped through your lips. 

“No! Listen, I don't care what happens to me. I'm not leaving you." He pressed his helmeted forehead against yours, as his now bloodied glove caressed your cheek, “I won’t. Now stay alive and stay awake. That’s all you have to do, Tech will get us out of here. So DON’T DIE ON ME! THAT’S AN ORDER SOLDIER!”

You chuckled at his demeanour, loving him all the more, “Yes, sir!” You saluted. 

He chuckled and focused back on the droids in front of him. He sent another ping to Tech, time was running out, he needed to get you to a medical facility soon. 

His eyes glanced back over to you, you were starting to stir. Your eyes fluttered open, as they looked around the Marauder for him, he gripped your hand, “Easy, easy. You’re safe.” His soft tone calmed you down. 

You squeezed his hand, as you looked him over, “Injuries?”

Hunter closed his eyes and shook his head, “I’m fine. Tech stopped the bleeding on your thigh and removed the shrapnel. We’re heading to a medical frigate now, you’ll be as good as new in a few days.” His hand reached up as the back of his fingers caressed your cheek. You closed your eyes and leaned into his hand.

“You didn’t leave.”

“I couldn’t.”

“But you could’ve been…”

“If you die, I’ll die right beside you. I’m not leaving you. Ever.”

You looked at him with a loving smile, and full of adoration in your eyes.

“What?” He chuckled.

You shook your head, as you looked at him smiling softly, “I just wanted to say thank you for protecting me.” You pressed a kiss to his fingers, “And that I love you.”

“I love you. But don’t ever do that to me again.” Tears welled up in his eyes, “I thought I was going to lose you out there…” his tone shifted as his breathing trembled, “I can’t lose you cyar’ika. I … I can’t …”

“Shhh, come here” You motioned for him to rest his head on your shoulder, as you hugged him close. It wasn’t the first time you’ve been injured but it certainly had been the closest you’ve ever been to shaking hands with death. You both held each other close, reminding each other you were still there. 

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[pandulce135]

Hi hi! Can I ask for Donatello x a fem reader who finds out this normally goofy and bubbly cinnamon roll is actually really smart, but has been hiding it because she's worried that people won't like it? Can either be friends to lovers or established relationship, go wild!

Notes: It's been a month but I finally did it! I really did my best here, I kind of struggled but like, I hope I can get at least a 3.5 stars out of 5 haha. I'm gonna start naming my fics like early 2000's FOB songs starting now.

Warnings: reader labeled as 'stupid' and 'dumb,' acceptance of a negative role, reader looked down upon, not really proofread, lmk if I need to add anything else.

Word Count: 1.8k

~~~~~

So Smart, So Dumb: The Role That Was Given

You bounded into the Lair of your turtle friends. A soft smile was planted on your lips as you made the walk through the dim and, quite frankly, disgusting sewers. Not that you would expect them to be clean by any means. Just a few years ago, you never imagined yourself taking frequent walks through the underground tunnels of trash water to get to your friends. Now you knew these tunnels like the back of your hand, not that you’ve made it all that obvious.

There were subtle things you did that made both your book smarts and street smarts nearly unknown to your friends. Mikey seemed to be the only one to begin to pick up on your small habits. How you always hung around in the middle of the group when walking through the sewers but knowing where each path led, your seemingly limitless questions about Donnie’s tech and the Hidden City, how you even asked questions to no one just to realize you knew the answer all along, and how you knew completely random fun facts. You even Googled a large number of ‘how to’s recently. Sure, there were things here and there that you genuinely didn’t know, but now you had the reputation of ‘pretty and pretty stupid.’

Less work for your brain when in life or death situations. That was arguably the smartest move of all- to work smarter, not harder. You nearly laughed when you thought that.

It may have bordered on manipulation, but what the turtles and April didn’t know won’t hurt them.

It wasn’t long until you finally made it to the Lair. The opening that held the boys’ huge skate ramps and was their general hangout spot held three of the four turtles. You spotted Leo lounging on the beanbag reading a comic, Raph was doing a set bicep curls on his bench, and Mikey was laying on his plastron and doodling away in his sketchbook. The youngest was the first to notice your arrival.

“Hi, Y/N!” He smiled his big goofy smile in your direction, which caused your own smile to grow.

“Hi, guys!” You waved enthusiastically.

“Y/N! What are you doing here?” Raph put down his dumbbell with a grunt before turning to face you.

Leo chuckled, his eyes not moving away from the comic. “They’re obviously here to see Donnie.” The smirk in his voice was as clear as day and you couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh. Your hands flew to hold onto each other behind your back as you rocked back and forth from your toe to your heel.

“He said he needed help with something he’s working on.”

There was a pause before all three of the turtles in front of you bursted out laughing, halting your movements. You watched as they laughed at the thought of you actually being of use to Donnie. Sure it was an assumption on the situation, but there’s not much else it could be.

They finally finished, each of them wiping away a stray tear. “Hardy har. I’m glad I could be amusing to you boys, but I have to go before Don starts spamming me with texts.” As if on cue, your phone buzzed in your back pocket. You pulled it out and looked down at it. Sure enough, it was him. You faced the screen to the boys. “That’s my cue! Have fun doing… whatever.”

You entered Don’s lab just as another message was sent through to your phone. “Don, I’m here,” you announced with a chuckle, which caused him raise his head from what he was working on on his desk to you.

“I heard you speaking with my brothers, but I needed you here urgently.” He was suddenly standing and moved away to focus on a few pieces of material on the table behind him. Some thick pieces of metal.

“My normal job?”

“Yes, your normal job.”

Your normal job was handing him the tools he asked for. When you first started this for him he assumed you would know nothing about the tools he was working with. He was shocked when you were able to differentiate the phillip screwdriver from the flathead and star. At that point, you had earned the title of ‘the dumb one’ but said you were willing to help him. No one else volunteered so he cut his losses and allowed you to help him.

So, you made your way over to his desk to sit down on his massive chair. You were the only one allowed to sit in it. It was like a reward for helping him out.

“So, whatcha workin’ on?” You asked as you spun around in the chair in half circles, bouncing side to side with the help of your feet as stoppers.

“Oh, only my next big scientific advancement. Once I finish up this bad boy, I’ll be the next Einstein with my own Nobel Prize!” Donnie exclaimed, holding out his hand for a tool. “The drill please.” You spun in your chair to grab the drill off of his desk and set it to the forward option. You pressed the trigger twice quickly to make sure it functioned before handing it to Donnie.

His response didn’t answer your question, so you looked down at the construction drawing on Donnie’s desk. It was for the piece of machinery he seemed to have his mind set on building. It didn’t even have a title. A glance at the materials and measurements made you furrow your eyebrows.

“Don, I don’t think your measurements are right. Are you sure you measured everything correctly?” You asked, not moving your gaze away from the paper. You started working on your own measurements on the sheet of material next to you.

Donnie produced a loud gasp from somewhere behind you. “You dare doubt my measurements?” He sounded utterly shocked and nearly betrayed. “Scoff! When will you learn, I am always precise and correct when it comes to such-”

“You didn’t take into account the actual width of the material in your measurements,” you cut him off to show him the numbers you produced. You noted how his eyebrow twitched and how his stance stiffened as soon as you spoke over him. “Sorry I cut you off, but you probably wouldn’t have let me show you otherwise.”

Upon processing your words, Donnie let out a breath and loosened up. “Fine, let me take a look.” He snatched the papers from your grasp peered down at them. His eyes narrowed at the one with your measurements before widening slightly. “Wait a minute.” With movements so fast you could hardly register them, Donnie grabbed a measuring tape to measure the width of the material. “Holy mackerel, you’re right!”

You laughed at his reaction. “Don’t act so shocked, Don. It was an easy mistake to fix, and an even easier one to make. I’m glad I was able to look it over.”

“You act like you’ve made the same mistake before.”

“Adding measurements together in a workshop environment is difficult sometimes,” you sighed but you shot him a smile anyways. “But you’re doing amazing, sweaty.”

“Oh, shut up.” He couldn’t help but smile at your words. You noticed how you seemed to have such an effect on him. “You’re a lot smarter than you let on.”

“Yeah, that’s the goal.” You laughed as you leaned back in his chair and he furrowed his drawn on eyebrows at you.

“Wait, wait, wait… what?” He dropped what he was working on. “You were just acting stupid this whole time?”

“I have a reputation to uphold. ‘Pretty and pretty dumb,’ right?” You began swinging your feet back and forth. You noticed as Donnie tensed up again. “You guys aren’t able to stay quiet about anything.” You laughed out again, but it was obvious that is was more forced. “Plus, it’s just easier to do as told than come up with any plan in a life or death situation. It wasn’t that I was like, playing you guys or anything. I was just… filling in the role you guys gave me. I think I did a pretty good job.” You gasped. “Oh, I could totally be an actor, what do you think?” You looked at him with raised eyebrows and an expectant gaze.

“What do I think? I think you’ve had plenty of opportunities to show us how smart you are and prove us all wrong! Why on Galileo’s good Earth would you not do that?” Donnie nearly shouted and you frowned. “I, personally, would not stand that!”

“I’m not you, Donnie,” you stated blankly, a firmness taking hold in your voice. Donnie grew physically uneasy. “The reputation stuck. I didn’t want to deal with the aftermath of such a revelation. Especially now. It’s easier to just… let you guys think I’m a silly, goofy idiot.” You ran a hand down your face. “Let’s be honest, it was so much easier for me, the most.”

“Oh…”

“Oh,” you mocked. “It’s such a shocking revelation that I’m decently smart, I know,” a sarcasm seeped its way through your voice as you leaned your elbow on the arm of Donnie’s chair. Your head rested on in your hand. “Let’s just… get back to work on your ‘next big scientific advancement.’” You turned in the chair to face the tools again.

There were a few seconds of silence before he spoke up. “No.” You sat up straight at Donnie’s word.

“What?”

“Let’s do something else.”

You turned around to see the materials that were supposed to be used to create scientific greatness were all discarded on the table that was now behind Donnie. He stood in front of your sitting form and planted both hands on the arms of the chair.

“How about pizza and a movie? My treat.”

You raised an eyebrow as you stared up at Donnie. “Really?” You suddenly smiled. “You sure it’s not just an apology?”

He pulled away from the chair and turned to the the side with his arms crossed over his plastron. “Psh, as if… maybe… it is…n’t.”

“Oh, Donnie!” You gushed as you clasped your hands together, most of your negative emotions left in few seconds of the past. “So you can be thoughtful!”

“Hey, I’ll show you thoughtful!”

“Really?”

“Let’s just go, you dum dum,” Donnie grumbled out with flushed cheeks before pulling you out of the chair and dragging you out of his lab. “And yeah, I guess it’s my way of saying sorry,” he muttered, holding onto your hand with a tight grip as you followed him.

Your soft smile returned to your lips. “Thanks, Don.”

[hayleythesugarbowl]

Not sure if you’re still taking Ray Manchester requests so if you’re not then you can ignore this, but can I request ray Manchester hcs with a really smart reader? Like the reader loves tech and creating weapons and machines(maybe they’re abit chaotic with their talent-)

ray manchester x smart!reader headcanons

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • ray manchester masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

a/n: love this idea so much, and imagining ray with a genius reader just makes me so happy bc i think it would work so well. enjoy!! 🩰💋

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

being captain man’s intelligent, tech-savvy significant other would include…

ok so when ray first met you it was when you applied for a job as captain man’s tech support 

you fell down the elevator

and ray thought you were gorgeous 

he also realized after he interviewed you that you were crazy intelligent 

and so when you showed up on your first day on the job he wanted to impress you

and to him that meant wearing fake glasses and spewing the dictionary at you 

‘salutations (y/n) it is most benevolent to see you today and i hope you find yourself most homogeneous here’

when henry told him what those words meant later he was horrified 

and so the next time he talked to you he put an ear piece in and schwoz and charlotte told him what to say

it took him about a week to give up on the glasses and faking and just ask you out as himself

and after he did, you guys pretty much fell in love

who would have thought, the tech nerd and the superhero? 

or, that’s what jasper says at least

since you’d been working there, you’ve caused upward of nine (9) explosions 

and you almost blew up the place one (1) time

ray thought it was so cool 

you have also made some really useful gadgets and don’t tell schwoz but you do give him a run for his money 

almost all of captain man’s weapons are your design

but you let him name them sometimes 

you and charlotte become besties because you can bond over rolling your eyes at ray

and you two can insult him right in front of him without him ever knowing what you’re saying

he said I love you first 

henry’s definitely come down to the man cave to find you two making out 

you’ve stopped him from revealing his identity multiple times 

he’s constantly leaning over to secretly ask you to explain things

‘right, the capacitor. well, we can’t let him get away with that, mr. vice mayor.’

…

‘(y/n), what’s a capacitor’

once you had to go save him when you realized he’d brought the wrong weapon

and you let him take the credit for taking down the bad guy even though it was definitely your doing 

he calls you his little machine

and you call him anything he won’t understand so he has to look up if he should be offended or not 

he thinks the way you talk about computers and your inventions is ‘so sexy’

he lets you drive the man-copter 

seriously if you weren’t around he’d have gotten killed by now

and he knows it 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed this love!! always happy to write for my man ray <3💌🍒

[kybercrystals94]

Blame to Share

Read here on Ao3!

Whumptober 2024 - Day 20 - Prompts: Emotional Angst // Giving Permission to Die // "It's not your fault."

Rated: G | Words: 594

It’s been one year today; although nobody says it. 

They silently speak it in their postures, their eyes, their subduedness. 

Their silence on the subject screams, an agonized wail in a yawning chasm that is loss, mourning, and regret. 

Crosshair hears it. Because it’s his fault, isn’t it? That Tech is gone? Of course it is, and he won’t listen to their kark about it being Tech’s choice, that he did what he did because he loved all of them. That Tech did what he did to save them, and they will honor his sacrifice. 

Crosshair doesn’t want to be soothed, doesn’t want to be absolved. 

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he tells his siblings at midday meal.

He has to leave, because he doesn’t know what he’d do if he stayed. 

“Where are you going?” Wrecker asks. 

Crosshair won’t meet any of their eyes, their gazes make his skin burn. “I need some time.” 

“We understand,” Hunter says. 

Crosshair believes they will try, and hopes they never do. 

He finds a quiet beach, gathers wood for a fire, and puts out his bedroll. He goes fishing for his late meal, standing in the surf, waves lapping around his knees. He roasts his catch over the fire, the crackling of burning wood integrating with the song of swelling nighttime. The stars appear, constellations Crosshair doesn’t know the names or patterns of forming before his eyes. 

Tech would know. 

Tech knew almost everything. 

And he shouldn’t be dead. 

“Who gave you permission to die?” Crosshair demands of the void where his lost brother should be. 

“Tech rarely asked permission for anything,” Hunter replies. 

Crosshair scowls into the flames as Hunter steps into the circle of firelight, a pack over his shoulder. 

“I said I’d be back tomorrow,” Crosshair tells him. 

Hunter tosses his bag next to Crosshair’s. “Told Wrecker and Omega the same thing.” 

“I said I need some time.” 

“And you got some.” Hunter sits down in the sand across from him, the fire between them. “I know what you’re doing.” 

“You don’t know anything.”

“I know you’re blaming yourself for what happened to Tech.” 

“And you don’t?” Crosshair spits. 

“I blame a lot of people,” Hunter says. “I blame the Empire, I blame Hemlock, I blame Saw Gerrera…I could go on and on, but I don’t blame you.” 

“But did you?” Crosshair asks. “Before?” 

Hunter sighs, clasps and unclasps his hands. “I blamed you for a lot of things, before. Doesn’t mean all those things were justified.” 

“If I hadn’t sent that message, you would never have been on Eriadu.” 

Hunter huffs. “Message or not, Crosshair, we would have come for you. The moment Tech found your CT number on the prisoner manifest–”

“Why?” Crosshair interrupts angrily. “I earned that prison cell, Hunter. You should have left me there!” 

Hunter frowns at him. “By the Empire’s standards, Crosshair, we all earned that cell, even Omega.”

Crosshair thinks bringing their sister into it is a low blow. “It’s not the same.” 

“Here’s the thing, Crosshair,” Hunter says. “You weren’t with us, and I made a call.”

“Stop it,” Crosshair whispers. 

Hunter doesn’t stop, shadows flickering across his face, the gleam of tear tracks catching in the light. “So, if any of us are to blame, for any of this…it’s me, Cross. Got it? Every single call I’ve made our whole lives, the good and the bad, I’ll have to live with.” 

Crosshair swallows. “Sounds like we’ve both got our share of the blame then.” 

Hunter doesn’t answer. 

Maybe there’s nothing else to say. 

END

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[look-at-the-soul]

Look at the soul- Part 12

Cillian Murphy x OC

Author’s note: please please forgive me for taking so long to update this little story, hopefully I’ll get on posting more frequently ✨ I hope you still like this couple, there’s a lot in the store for them 🥰

Series Master list

Song: Alone by Heart, the Royal Philharmonic Orchest

Word count: 2,938

“That was great!” The director called enthusiastically just as Cillian finished his lecture.

An assistant emerged from the shadows in a heartbeat and asked if he wanted something to drink.

“I’m alright, thanks.” He gave her a small nod.

“Let me take this off.” A tech approached him and pointed at the microphone attached to the nape of his jacket.

“Oh, sure.” Turning around, Cillian lifted the back of his jacket so the man could undo the clip holding it together.

Someone else offered Cillian another folder with another part of the script. Something happened in that very moment, the paper felt heavy, not because it was a ton of papers, but because of the character, what this opportunity could mean.

“Are you sure you can’t push your other commitment?” The director finally reached him with a long face. “Your screen tests is fucking amazing.”

Cillian clenched his jaw for a moment. Thinking of the play, all the hard work they’ve been investing daily, the rehearsals, the way it had helped him with the pain and loss of his wife. And then, in the back of his mind, Marianne’s face appeared flashing him.

This was probably one of the greatest opportunities in his career…

****

“How’s little Miss Hanna?” Marianne asked over the phone as she finished washing the dishes.

She could feel her best friend smiling as she made a sound to her daughter.

“Getting bigger every minute.” Her friend Anna replied. “Do you wanna FaceTime?”

Marianne made an excitement sound and pressed the green button on her screen. “Oh look at you princess! You’re so pretty.”

“She was sick last week, and now I’m starting to feel ill, it sucks because I won’t be able to take any medicine.”

“Ow sweetie, try to get some rest at least.”

“The sleeping schedule it’s a mess she wakes up in the middle of the night every single day, we’ve tried soft music, dark room and now Evan is sleeping in the guest room because he needs to get up early the next day.”

“Wish I could be closer to help you during the day at least.” Marianne felt sad for the miles keeping them apart. After years of friendship seeing her best friend become a mother hit different, maternity gave her this beautiful aura and she seemed to have special super powers to balance motherhood, her business and everything around the house without breaking a sweat. It was admirable.

“I’d love that! But enough of diapers… tell me! How’s it going over there?”

Finishing with the dirty dishes, she took her phone with her to sit on the couch, pausing the movie she wasn’t even watching.

“Oh! It’s been good, lots of rainy days. I was working on an essay for a project but words won’t come out as they should, it doesn’t makes sense so I’m taking a break from it and I’ll start it over later.”

“I wish I could help you but… nope.” Anna stated firmly and then cracked a smile, she was over college papers now. “Have you been out meeting cute ginger Irish boys?”

Marianne laughed. “How do you know?” She joked, her schedule was hectic most of the time, that was the last thing on her mind.

“Ugh of course you haven’t.” Anna rolled her eyes, she knew her too well.

Suddenly Scout did a big stretch and decided to join her, demanding some petting like she did whenever he was close.

“Who’s that?” Anna asked with interest.

“Scout. Say hiya.” Marianne moved her phone closer to show her friend the black lab. “I’m puppy sitting him, it’s adorable.”

“And the owner is…?”

“He’s part of the cast of the play.” Marianne pretended to give Scout a smooch on the head, but she was able to feel her friend’s gaze on her.

“Okay… is he single?” Anna went immediately in for the important details.

“Widowed.”

Anna’s jaw dropped, she grabbed her phone excitedly while whispering because Hannah was now taking a nap on her other arm. “Spill the gossip.”

“Stop, there’s no gossip.”

“He’s widow, has a dog that clearly likes you. What else?”

“Anna relax.”

“No. Don’t tell me to relax, tell me the dirty details.”

Marianne felt mortified, in the past Anna tried to be a matchmaker, introducing her to several friends, and her husband’s friends, even a cousin, but it didn’t went further than a date.

“Look-” but her words got cut when she got a message from Cillian greeting her and to ask how Scout was behaving.

“Is that the dog’s Dad?”

“No, it’s Mum I’ll give her a call.” She felt bad for lying to her best friend, but she didn’t feel like there was something to tell. “Love you, call you later.” She rushed to hang up.

***

Cillian strolled thru the busy platform at the tube, it was starting to get packed, close to rush hour. He remembered this all so well from the years he lived in the city, eager to get a better opportunity in the industry.

He waited patiently minding his own business just like everyone else… people from different places, backgrounds and mindsets crossed before him not giving him a double look. He liked that, it was awkward to be stopped by a stranger to praise about his work, he felt extremely grateful without a doubt, but he sucked at the taking compliments part. He never knew what to say or do.

He felt thankful for the walk he was taking, he had a lot of things on his mind, he just got off the phone with one of his kids, they were just finishing their homework and decided to help grandpa set up a dvd player. Cillian strolled through the busy street now, deciding to go straight to his hotel room, he could always grab something from the mini bar to have dinner.

The beep on his phone announced a new message and it changed his whole mood.

Sleeping (he’s snoring).- Marianne wrote him and added a photo of Scout peacefully sleeping on her lap.

A stupid smile appeared on his lips, he couldn’t stop it.

Looks like you’ve got the magic touch. He wrote back, but deleted it before sending. Looks like he’s having a blast. He typed instead. Can I give you a call?

As he stepped inside his room, Cillian took off his shoes and jacket, Marianne didn’t reply but called him directly.

“Hey how’s it going?” He asked walking around the room.

“Oh my! You should’ve seen Scout, he jumped and stormed off towards the door when he heard you.” Marianne explained that she had the call on speaker.

Cillian chuckled softly. “Yeah?”

“Yes! Look I’m going to put you on video.”

Staring at his screen, he pressed the green button and soon an image of Scout wagging his tail and looking at the door filled his phone.

“Talk to him.” Marianne proposed crouching down to get closer.

“Hey buddy, over here.”

Scout turned around a started stomping his front paws.

“See? He misses you.”

Cillian saw her hand caressing Scout’s head.

“What was the other photo you sent me? Earlier.”

“Oh! That was us going for a walk.” Marianne explained going back to sit on the couch, still pointing her camera towards the black lab.

With a huff, Scout jumped on the couch before getting comfortable against Marianne once more. Arranging the base, she leaned her phone on it to have her hands free and went back to scratch Scout’s head.

“He’s having the time of his life.” Marianne stated giving the dog a glance.

A soft smile grew on his lips. “But he had something yellow on?”

“Yes! I got him a raincoat.” Marianne explained waving her hand.

“You let him on the couch, protect him from the rain… when I go back he’s going to be so spoiled.” He chuckled softly getting comfortable.

“Well he deserves spawcial treatment.” She explained running her fingernails through his back. “Righ?” She asked staring into those big brown eyes.

Envy flashed through Cillian’s mind. How lucky that bloody dog is, he thought.

“Tell me, how is London?”

“Crowded and it wasn’t raining so that’s grand.” Cillian chatted. “But they could’ve saved me the trip.”

“Why?” Marianne frowned and started fidgeting something around her neck.

Cillian let out a soft groan and looked towards the window. “From the beginning I said I couldn’t do this project, but the director insisted on the screen test.”

Marianne mouthed an explicit oh, but decided to not interrupt Cillian’s explanation. “I’ve other priorities going on at the moment.”

How could he make a decision like that? Choose between two projects, she wondered what made him say no before it could even start and how that probably affected him on future plans.

He couldn’t help but fix his eyes on her hand, twisting one of her fingers between the necklace. “I’m sorry… what’s that?”

Marianne looked down to see what he meant.

“Your pendant.” He clarified.

“My grandma gave it to me when I turned eighteen. It was given to her by her mother.” She leaned forwards to get closer to the camera and show it to him. “It’s our Lady of Guadalupe. I’ve had it for years.”

Cillian thought how he hadn’t noticed it before. Immediately it gave him an idea, it could be useful as a resource in the play, how come he didn’t think of it before?

“That’s lovely.” He hummed.

“It’s very popular over there, the fact that she chose to show up with the same skin color as our natives, the meanings behind her dress and veil… there’s actually professional studies that confirm the image isn’t a print and her eyes actually are alive.” she explained, getting lost. “Sorry, I got carried away.”

“No it’s fine… I mean I don’t, but everyone chooses what to believe in.”

He remembered seeing her making a silent prayer from time to time, or the signal of the cross subtly before a rehearsal.

Marianne thought how thoughtful it was from him to respect her beliefs. She liked the fact that he didn’t laugh or rolled his eyes by her words.

“You know… I keep you and your kids in my prayers.” She added out of the blue, not knowing if she was stepping over the line. But she did, praying was the best she could do for him.

“Thank you, that’s very kind.” He swallowed, not knowing what else to say, it was a beautiful gesture from her despite his own thoughts about religion. “I think adding a subtle touch like that to the play would be nice.”

“What? Are you going to make Adria pray at night?” She joked, making him laugh.

“No, but the necklace. That and the letters we thought about her and this secret man in her life, I just thought he could’ve given her a necklace that means so much and she keeps it.”

“I like how it sounds!”

Cillian asked her to hang on while he looked around for a pen and paper to take notes, Marianne heard him curse over what seemed to be an stuck drawer.

“It could be like a transition step,” he thought out loud, “she finds the necklace and it’s a pivotal moment for Adria, then the letters… and that’s when this man reveals himself to the audience.” He could see it all so clearly, Adria’s facial expression, her strong persona shattering by the sudden memories.

Marianne could hear Cillian talk all day long, his velvety voice was like a lullaby to her when he got lost in something, it was like she could see what he was explaining in a movie scene. The images were so vivid, like in a dream.

His critical point of view added something magical to what might sound like a regular idea. He made it stand out.

“I just think we’re going to cause Enda a heart attack with the changes we’ve suggested.” Marianne sighed and Scout mirrored her.

“Nah, he’s gonna be fine.” Cillian waved his hand to dismiss her worries. “What really matters here it’s how you feel.”

She chuckled nervously, not wanting the conversation to turn about her, deep down she still felt so nervous for the outcome of this.

He didn’t want to say he was a good actor, but he was good at reading people. For an instant, her fears flashed through her eyes. But at the same time he was having a hard time trying to find the differences between her and Adria, it was almost impossible to spot where one ended and the other started.

“What? What is it?”

“How do you do it? How can you not be scared of getting on stage?”

Cillian pouted, pondering on her question. “I guess you don’t think about it.”

“But I’m already.” She laughed.

“Then just move your attention towards something else… your next move, the next line. Try to focus on what’s going on at the moment.” He tried to give her the best advice. “Roll with it, enjoy it.”

“I’m just wondering if anyone will come and see a rookie.”

“Tickets will sold out, mark my words.” He assured her without hesitation.

“Thanks for the cheering, I really appreciate the support.” She scratched Scout absently.

“Do you want to hear the idea I’ve for the video?” Now it was Cillian’s turn to smile, he had been working on that project most of the flight, taking notes and letting his mind go as he listened to the song over and over.

“Absolutely!”

“We’ve learned to leave judgment behind us already right?” He asked holding his phone in his other hand.

“Oh God, what are you going to make me do this time around? Should I be scared?” Marianne joked.

“Just wanted to make sure.”

“I’m going to do it anyways.” She added then.

And Cillian was transported back in time, when he’d get the call from certain film director, he didn’t ask what was the part about or how big was the role involved… he always said yes.

So he went on to tell her all about the very specific idea he wanted to achieve for this video and how fitting it felt for the lyric.

He felt inspired, in his mind he could already see the images, the story telling itself, and the permission to use the locations was already on its way. Being behind the camera was one of his many passions, and getting the chance to do it once more was an opportunity he didn’t want to let go.

She noticed the excitement in his voice as he explained the different segments of the story, she could only compare it to taking a kid to Disneyland, and a couple of times, she forced herself to look somewhere because he was too distracting.

“I had a crazy moment earlier,” Marianne started to tell him as the call took another turn.

“Ya? What happened?” Cillian asked lifting his free arm to place it behind his head, involuntarily Marianne couldn’t help it but stare at his bicep.

“I started talking to Scout, as if he’d answer me.” She laughed and Cillian imitated her reaction. “Then I stopped abruptly when I realized what I was doing and started laughing while Scout barked uncontrollably, he probably thought I was crazy.”

“Oh he’s used to that, don’t worry I talk alone all the time.” Cillian offered then with a smile.

“He’s like a big teddy bear.” She gushed, swooning over the black lab keeping her company. “I’m not so sure I want to give him back.”

She added in a playful tone, but quickly rushed to explain she was just joking.

And that provoked a loud and deep laugh from him. Raisin his eyebrows he covered his mouth with his palm, the realization of how easy she made him smile or laugh made his mind go into another direction…

“Alright Scout, are you ready? We’re having a spaw night.” Marianne explained to the dog after ending the call with Cillian, she put on a fluffy robe, threw her hair up in a messy bun and invited Scout to sit on her lap, as she started to brush him he quickly started to relax, opening his legs wide and closing his eyes while she rubbed his belly.

She then put one of her hairbands just for fun and took one of his paws to added moisturize. So far he seemed to enjoy it, she always thought a dog is just like a little kid, they get excited over the simple things the things that really matter, and in the process they show us a different side of love.

“Do you like it?” She asked trying to look at Scout’s face, but he was far gone, with his tongue sticking out, showing off his teeth.

“You know, I’ve been keeping a little secret…” she whispered, struggling to find the right words. “I think I’m falling for your Dad.”

But admitting her feelings out loud didn’t make it easier, all the opposite she wondered how she’d be able to hide them while working together.

And little did she know that a few miles away, staring out of his hotel window, Cillian was looking at the sky, thinking of her and all the feelings she was making him have.

He wanted her to be part of his life, he was craving the peace and joy she brought whenever she stepped in the room. He needed to hear her laugh and see her smile every day, all the time. He just needed to find a way to her heart.

I hear the ticking of the clock

I'm lying here, the room's pitch dark

I wonder where you are tonight

'Til now I always got by on my own

I never really cared until I met you

And now it chills me to the bone

How do I get you alone?

You don't know how long I have wanted

To touch your lips and hold you tight

You don't know how long I have waited

And I was going to tell you tonight

But the secret is still my own

And my love for you is still unknown, alone

'Til now I always got by on my own

I never really cared until I met you

And now it chills me to the bone

How do I get you alone? How do I get you alone?

Black lab Inspiration: Elvis batz the lab

Our Lady of Guadalupe

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[hugmekenobi]

Wardrobe Change

A Bad Batch Series interlude oneshot

Image from the Popverse courtesy of Lucasfilm (my gif searches were being very uncooperative)

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Summary: Times change, uniforms change and this new design has its fair share of admirations.

Warnings: No use of y/n, pet names (sweetheart), Cid being Cid, I make up a timeline, affectionate possessiveness, fluff and feelings, Force communication working how I say it does, PDA in the form of making out and affectionate biting, spicy/suggestive dialogue, getting caught/interrupted, awkwardness

Masterlist for Season 1 chapters

Word Count: 4.7K

Rating: 18+

Author’s notes: It’s the last of the oneshots before we get into S2! This was purely because I wanted to start S2 off with the armour changes being understood and so I didn’t have to describe them lol but I hope there’s more substance for y’all to enjoy! Big shout out to @hugmedin who helped me when I got hit with a bad bit of writer’s block and wrote a section of this, including my favourite line in this fic that had me freaking out when I read it, love you my guy!! 

“Okay! I have them! Ugh this is so heavy!”

You all turned your attention over to the loud thud and you smiled as you saw Lyra collapsed over the container she had previously been carrying. She’d only just managed to get it through the doorway. “You should’ve told us. We’d have helped you bring it over.” You said as you stood up and walked over to her.

“It’s part of the service.” Lyra panted as she stood up and smoothed down her top. “I think you guys will like what I’ve done.”

“Can you get that out the way? It’s blocking the entrance! We don’t have all day for this. I have my own business to run!” Cid said by way of greeting.

“You weren’t exaggerating.” Lyra muttered.

“Give it 6 months and you’ll be on mildly better terms.” You uttered back with grin.

“Oi! Either help her or get out of her way. It’s bad enough you’re using my place as your fitting rooms!” Cid barked over at you.

“Better terms?” Lyra said with a small laugh.

“I did say mildly.” You replied, grabbing the other side of the box, and lifting it over to where the rest of your squad had congregated in the corner.

“Are they finally ready?” Omega asked excitedly as she gave Tech the datapad back.

“Omega, we haven’t finished-”

“Come on, Tech! I can do it later!” Omega griped.

Tech sighed in defeat.

“A quick break won’t hurt Tech.” You appeased.

“Let me see!” Omega said.

“Okay kid, hang on.” Lyra said with a smile. She opened the box and began the process of handing the updated armour out. “I played around a bit with them.”

“How much?” Hunter and Echo asked warily as they took theirs from her.

“Don’t stress. It’ll all look perfect. I changed the colours and symbols as requested but I got rid of a couple things that weren’t really necessary. You guys have more civilian type clothing to wear underneath now, rather than just those blacks you’d handed over. And that means you don’t have to always change into these clothes you’re wearing now if you want to take your armour off. Oh, and your codpieces are gone.”

“You took away a whole section of our armour?” Tech asked sceptically as he took his.

“They were annoying me.” She replied simply. “And I don’t think you’re in a position to act like it’s a super crucial piece you’re missing. You don’t have any thigh armour. That wasn’t a change I made, that was all you.” She added pointedly.

Tech opened his mouth to protest but he couldn’t think of a rebuttal fast enough.

You chuckled as you watched Tech walk away, mumbling something under his breath about how it suits his needs just fine.

“Where’s mine?” Omega asked eagerly.

“Alright kid. Here you go.” Lyra passed the pile of clothes over to Omega who grabbed them keenly and dashed off to change.

“Did I see a hat?” You asked as you watched her turn the corner.

“It makes the outfit.” Lyra replied with a smile.

You laughed. “I won’t question your style.”

“Good. Cause now it’s your turn.”

“You only changed the colour, right?”

“In a way…”

“Lyra…”

“Calm down. It’s nothing crazy. I still kept the hood and mask element you like. I just started from scratch. The top you bought from me before isn’t really suitable for what you do. I didn’t realise you operated with no armour at all. If I gave you the original one back, it would only be a matter of time before you had rips in it. I’m surprised it was in one piece for so long.”

“Okay… so?”

“So, I got my hands on this new material that is generally just sturdier so that’ll help, and you have some armour of your own.”

“Armour?” You said sceptically as you watched her reach down.

“Not a lot.” She reassured you. “I figured you liked the freedom of movement, it’s just a couple of things. Here’s the top.”

You took it from her, and you could already tell that it was better quality. The black fabric was thick but when you put it over your head, it fit snugly but still allowed for flexible movement. The mask and hood were indeed still there and where your previous top had red lining on the outside, this one now had a turquoise. Your eyes also noted the small white half skull that seemed to have been another element that was carried over. “And this was an essential thing you needed to keep?” You said, pointing to the sign.

Lyra grinned. “You both like it and don’t try to deny it.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled with her. “This is perfect though, thanks!”

“I’m not done.” She handed over the additional pieces to your ensemble.

You took the small parts of armour she’d give you. They were black and decorated with a mix of white and turquoise stripes. You also realised they were like the ones Hunter wore on his forearms. She’d also added a pair of black gloves.

“This means you’re also getting rid of that horrendous thing keeping that vibroblade on your thigh.” Lyra ordered.

“There’s nothing wrong with it!” You said defensively, glancing down to your thigh where your vibroblade was encased. Sure, the strap was fraying, and it was no longer the same colour as it was when you had first got it and some of the leather was showing cracks, but it served its purpose just fine. Plus, it had been with you through a lot of highs and lows and although a mantra throughout your life had been ‘no attachments,’ you had found that both Hunter and this strap were exceptions to the rule and you were rather fond of it.

Lyra just gave you a sad look. “Look at it. It’s disgusting. Throw it in here and never think about it again.” She insisted, turning the box towards you.

You sighed and chucked your vibroblade on the table before you threw your old strap into the empty container. You attached the new pieces to your forearms before you sheathed your vibroblade into the one on your left arm. You then put the next pieces that ran from your shoulders to the end of your upper arm. You were annoyed to find that Lyra was right, and you didn’t feel restricted by having them there.

“And you told me yourself your blaster holster is a hand-me-down from Tech. Put that one away too.”

“You were just waiting for a chance to upgrade my stuff weren’t you?” You grumbled as you took your blaster out and removed your holster. It joined your old vibroblade strap.

“Oh yeah.” Lyra said with a smug smile.

You attached the new holster to your thigh and put your blaster in it. “Happy now?” You asked, gesturing up and down your body.  

“You look hot!” Lyra said as she circled you, studying how you looked with the new parts on.

“Shut up.” You laughed, slightly flustered.

“Your sergeant is a lucky guy. How’d your secret project got by the way?”

Before you could reply, a shout got both of your attention.

“We’re ready! I love it!”

You turned to the sound of Omega’s voice, and you grinned as you saw her delighted expression. It had been a while since Kamino and Omega had definitely grown so it was about time she had something that fit with that, and she did now. She had grey bottoms and a red top which was worn underneath a light blue layer, and she had red fabric wrapped around her right wrist. The hat was a cute touch as well. The rest of your squad also looked pretty good. It was odd though, seeing them in colours that weren’t the signature ones they used wear and any insignia illustrating them being Clone Force 99 being gone.

Lyra clapped her hands together. “I truly outdid myself! You guys look fabulous!”

“Yeah, you guys look great!” You added.

Wrecker and Omega beamed, whilst Tech and Echo merely gave small nods.

“You look great too!” Omega said as she walked over to you.

“Yeah, Hunter’s got colours like that too. You guys’ll look good!” Wrecker added.

You smiled and rolled your eyes. “Speaking of that, where is our fearless leader?” You asked.

“He wanted to rearrange the scarf.” Echo replied.

“Scarf?” You repeated, your throat going dry. You looked over to Lyra.

She shrugged. “I like accessories. Sue me.”

You turned your head over to the sound of Hunter coming back into the main area and it took everything in you not to stare at him for an abnormal amount of time. His armour, like the rest of theirs had maintained most of its original structure-minus the codpiece- and his colours were indeed similar to the ones you had. He had the more civilian looking clothes underneath with the rest of his armour donning a mix of black, white, and turquoise. He had the same bit of orange running down the centre of his chest plate like his brothers had and his helmet still had half of it painted white to match the skull tattoo on his face. The red wrappings around his wrists mirrored the one Omega had and the red scarf… well the scarf was definitely a nice added feature.

Hunter nearly did a double take as he saw you. You looked… well you looked powerful, capable. Not that you didn’t look like that already but there was something about seeing you with actual armour that accentuated that part of you. Plus, the fact he was wearing colours that matched with yours was an added bonus.

“Well, my work here is done!” Lyra said cheerily as she bent down to grab the now empty case.

Hunter tore his eyes away from you and nodded his thanks to her before he saw that you were still looking at him. “What?” He asked as he joined the others and grabbed a drink. He brought his cup to his lips.

“Nothing. Looks good.” You said casually, turning away to follow Lyra out. Just thinking of all the things a scarf can do that a bandana can’t.

The choked splutter that followed had you smirking to yourself as you walked out the door.

--

“You sure we don’t owe you anything for this?” You double checked as you both stood outside the entrance to Cid’s.

Lyra shook her head. “You guys helped me out when I was being harassed by Marco and his goons. We’re even now.”

“Yeah, but getting to beat up Marco and Co is fun.” You said lightly. “You don’t need to repay us for that.”

“I wanted to. Besides, it was actually kinda fun. I haven’t had a project like that to work on in a while. Just point people in my direction if they ask who did this fabulous work and we’re all good.”

You huffed out a laugh. “You got it. I’ll see you around, Lyra. Thank you.”

“Yeah, see you around!” She grabbed her stuff and walked away.

You fished the necklace out your pocket and studied the small symbol on the end of the black leather cord.  It wouldn’t be noticeable under his clothes and armour. You just hoped he would like it.

--

You and Hunter seemed to find any excuse to gravitate towards one another and touch each other, even if it was nothing more than a simple touch that lasted a matter of seconds. Yes, you’d started it with your comment about the scarf, but he really wasn’t helping with things. The air between the two of you had been charged ever since you’d walked back down those steps and now every touch sent warmth flooding through you, and you were sure it was the same for him. To the others, the hand wrapped around your shoulder seemed completely innocent since you were all engaged in casual conversations, but it sent a thrumming through your veins you couldn’t control. And, judging by the way he’d tensed up when you’d laid your hand on his thigh, you weren’t the only one. You all had shed your armour since Cid didn’t have a mission so that definitely wasn’t making things any easier for you.

It felt like a test. Who was going to be the one to give in first? You really didn’t want it to be you and you think you had a way to do that. As Wrecker and Omega got up to go play a game of Dejarik, with Tech and Echo going to watch, you turned to face him. “Can I talk to you outside?”

Hunter looked at you quizzically but nodded and followed you as you stood up.

You made your way to the exit.

“Where are you going?” Omega asked as she waited for Wrecker to make his move.

“We’ll be back.” You replied.

--

“Everything okay?” Hunter asked as you began to pace in front of him.

“Yes. I just- Look I’m- What I’m trying-.” You stopped with an aggravated huff. You’d rehearsed this countless times in your head, and it wasn’t a big deal, worst he could say was no.

“Sweetheart.” Hunter grabbed your wrist to get you to stop walking. “Take a breath, look at me.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t call me that.”

Hunter tilted his head. “Why not? You usually don’t mind it. In fact, you tend to quite enjoy it.” He added with a smirk.

You shot him a playful glare and removed his hand which had worked its way to your waist. “Yes, exactly. You’re distracting me and I have a plan here. You’re not going to ruin it with your-” You didn’t finish your sentence, you just gestured to him.

Hunter held his hands up in mock surrender and leaned against the edge of the entry way.

You inhaled deeply and started pacing again. “I consider myself a pretty independent person, you know? Not one to be dependent on much, certainly not a man in my life. But then you come along, and suddenly I’m finding particular things I thought I would hate, quite, well, quite attractive. Take this for example.” You pointed to the half skull on your top. “I was convinced I would hate it, but I don’t. I don’t mind the message it sends.” You stopped and faced him. “However, I can’t just be what this suggests. You’re a part of me, the whole squad is, but I don’t want to be seen as someone whose only purpose is to belong to you.”

Hunter straightened up as he addressed you. “I know that. If I’ve given you reason to believe otherwise, I’m sorry. I’m sure Lyra could change it. I didn’t mean-”

“Hunter, I know.” You reassured him. “That’s not what I’m saying. I only mean I thought it would be nice if you maybe had something that- uh.” You broke off with an awkward cough before you continued, “Represented me.”  You brought the necklace out and handed it to him.

“Where’d you make that?” Hunter asked quietly as he studied the necklace which had attached to it a tiny metallic symbol. A symbol he’d seen many times during the Clone Wars. It was the symbol for the Jedi Order.

“Lyra gave me access to her stuff. Don’t worry, she didn’t know exactly what I was doing.” You added quickly as you saw the concern that flashed across his face. You looked down at the ground and scuffed the toe of your boot through the dirt. “Do you like it? I know it’s a bit risky but figured you could conceal it easily enough and I-” The strong hands on your waist that guided you backwards to the wall cut you off. You glanced up but before you could take your next breath, Hunter’s lips met yours and what little resistance you had left crumbled, but hey, technically he kissed you first, so you counted it as a win. You let him press his body tight to yours and you kissed him eagerly. You like it then?

Hunter didn’t answer directly. He just kissed along your jaw and nipped the skin by the spot behind your ear that he knew would elicit a moan from you and you didn’t disappoint. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He said, still out of breath and his voice even lower than what it usually was.

You released a sigh and your head fell back against the wall as he continued to leave marks on the skin of your neck. I have a pretty good idea.

“I’m serious.” He slid his hand on your cheek, so you were forced to look at him and he very nearly lost it. Your eyes were wide, and your breathing was still uneven, and he wanted nothing more than to continue but he needed to say this first. “From the minute you showed up on Devaron to help, I was enthralled by you. You took out a line of droids with nothing more than a slightly longer vibroblade on your back and acted like it was a regular day. Sure, later on we discovered there was a bit more reason behind that.”

You smiled slightly but your eyes dipped down as a wave of guilt washed over you at the memory of your dishonesty.

“Hey.” Hunter said softly as he saw your mind leave the current moment. He tucked his finger under your chin and angled your face back up. “That’s not why I brought it up. Don’t go back there. Stick with me here cause there’s a point to all this, I promise.”

You sighed and nodded.

Hunter breathed deeply. “You were incredible and there was no hesitation from me, or the others quite frankly, when it came to offering a place with us. I just underestimated the impact you were going to have on my life. It didn’t take long for my brothers to start giving me a hard time, but I was too stubborn to listen.”

Join the club.

He smiled at you before he continued. “Remember, when there was that stampede of Reeks and I got hurt. It was about two months after you’d joined us?” When he saw you nod, he carried on, “You remember how I got injured?”

“The last dregs of the Separatist droids sent a final charge our way. The blast meant I slipped and fell into the cavern where they were running. You came after me and pushed me out the way.” You said softly.

“Yeah, I did. I- I was in love with you then.”

“Well, then we were on very similar timelines.” You revealed with a smile.

Hunter huffed out a laugh. “So, fast forward to now. You’re wearing something that ties you to me and I don’t think you realise exactly the effect that has on me. And then I come out to see I’m wearing the same the colours you are. And to top it off, you’re asking me to wear something that ties me to you? I can say with no hesitation that you’re a part of me too.” With that, he looped it over his neck.

You took a shaky breath as you watched him put it on and you understood why the half skull on your top had meant so much to him. “You think the colours thing only mattered to you? Why do you think I had to give it to you now?” You murmured. “You were killing me in there.”

Hunter nuzzled into your neck. “That why you dragged me out here? Couldn’t wait?” He muttered into your skin and began to place light kisses on your neck, altering what side had his attention.   

“That why you followed me out here?” You countered as you struggled to keep your composure. 

“I thought you wanted to talk.” Hunter replied, his eyes lifting to yours, an unspoken challenge behind them. 

“I-I did talk.” You maintained. 

“And now?”

“And now I’m done.” You grabbed the front of his shirt and kissed him with fervour. And I’m counting this as a win. You broke first.  

Hunter chuckled and moved so his lips brushed against your jawline again as his hand trailed from your cheek down to your neck where it stopped for a moment before he continued, and his palm came to rest on the left side of your chest. Your heartbeat pounded beneath his fingertips.

You didn’t let him linger there too long. Wrapping your hands around the back of his neck, you pulled him in even closer and bucked your hips forward into him in an attempt to banish the remaining space between the two of you. As you did so Hunter let out a moan into the crook of your neck and the resulting vibrations sent your mind to mush. Your hands frantically grabbed at his shirt, the fabric bunching in between your fingers as you tried to bring him even closer. You let out a frustrated moan, you felt like he was holding back, and you were losing patience. 

Hunter let out a soft chuckle and you could feel his smile against your skin, genuine and unfiltered. “Relax.”  he whispered into your ear. “I’m right here.” 

Your hands slid from his waist up the length of his back, his muscles rigid but warm against your palm. You nipped at his ear, your hips still bucking into him, and you’d never been more thankful that Lyra had gotten rid of the cod pieces, but it also meant you became more and more desperate.  

“I need you closer.” Your voice came out strained as you looked up at him and you made no attempt to disguise your desire as you continued to press yourself against him.   

“That can be arranged.” 

The lights in the alleyway were dim but you could have sworn you saw a glimmer form in his eyes, the kind that only appeared when the two of you were alone. Upon seeing that, all sensible thoughts about the risks of doing this in public left your head completely. 

Bending down ever so slightly he brought both his hands to the back of your thighs lifting you up against the wall in one swift movement. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he held you in position against the wall. Your fingers found themselves wrapped up in Hunter’s hair which you used to gently tug his face away from where he was placing deep kisses along your collarbone. He let out a deep sigh which caught in his throat and resembled something close to a growl. As you held his head there you allowed yourself a moment to admire the way his eyes had grown darker, and his chest and shoulders heaved as he caught his breath. His lips remained parted as he patiently waited for instructions from you. Removing your hand from his hair you brought it back to caress his tattooed cheek, this time allowing your thumb to softly trail his lower lip.

He drew you into a deep kiss, the kind that left your lips raw and your lungs begging for oxygen that you swore you could definitely live without - but eventually you had to give into your reflex and come up for air. 

Hunter broke away first, bringing his forehead to rest tenderly against yours. His hands reached under your top; his gloved hands caressed your skin. “You sure about doing this here? I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop once-”  

Yes. You nodded eagerly but before you were able to continue, a horrified shout got both of your attention. 

“Ugh are you kidding me! You two really couldn’t wait?! Ugh my eyes!” Wrecker complained as he instantly turned away from the scene in front of him.

Hunter quickly let you down and he was sure your mortified expression matched his and you both turned to face the backs of Wrecker and Echo. 

“Oh, uh, hey boys. What, eh, what brings you out here?” You winced out as you adjusted your top.

At the sound of your feet hitting the ground, Echo turned to face you both and gave a disapproving stare. “Omega is about to play Tech and wanted to see if any of you wanted the next round so, we came out to ask. She nearly left to ask herself, but I figured based on past experience-”

“Okay.” Hunter interrupted him before he went any further.

You can turn around, Wrecker.

Wrecker took you at your word. “What happened to talking?”

“I mean… we did talk. Just got a bit carried away.” Your eyes focused on fiddling with the end of your sleeve.

“I’ll say.” Wrecker griped. 

“That’s the third time this month. We’ve talked about this. It was bad enough when Tech interrupted you guys in the cockpit.” Echo chastised you both.

Hunter couldn’t find any words. He just kept his eyes on the ground. 

“Hey, you didn’t have to listen to the lecture he gave afterwards on the importance of hygiene and sanitation.” You grumbled. 

“You’ve been lucky it hasn’t been Omega yet.” Echo continued, paying little attention to your words.

You knew he was right. The two of you had been pretty reckless lately and the very fact Omega hadn’t been one of the unfortunates to witness said reckless moments is something you thanked the Force for. “I’m sorry, we’ll be better.”

“Yeah, sorry boys. It won’t happen again.” Hunter said firmly.

A few beats of uncomfortable silence passed.

“You guys aren’t coming back down any time soon, are you?” Echo asked reluctantly as he nodded to where both of your hands were.

The two of you hadn’t noticed the new places your hands had found themselves in. Your fingers were lightly tracing up and down Hunter’s arm whilst his had found itself around your waist again and his thumb rubbed up and down your side. Upon hearing Echo’s words, you both glanced at each other. Tell Omega I owe her a game. We’ll be back later tonight. You said in a way of reply, your brain slowly starting to block the presence of the other two out.

Echo sighed tiredly. “Just get out of here. Come on, Wrecker. We probably don’t want to linger here much longer.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Wrecker hastily turned on his heels and walked back down the steps to Cid’s, with Echo following close behind.

“Well… that could’ve been worse.” You mumbled into his shoulder after they left before you trailed a line of kisses along his neck, your teeth lightly grazed his skin.

“I can’t say I can see how. That was- that was pretty awkward.” Hunter managed to stammer out.

“I could’ve been in a more compromising position.” You purred as your hand trailed down his chest and you made to kneel in front of him. You knew he was feeling more sensible, and you definitely knew it was better to head back to the Marauder but that didn’t mean you couldn’t have your fun.

He swiftly tugged you back up and shook his head at you as he saw the cat-like grin on your face. “Careful, or I’ll have to continue this here anyway.” Hunter groaned as you slowly ground your hips against him.

“Promises, promises.” You whispered back, tugging his lip between your teeth and you took pleasure in the low moan that left him. Your hands kept a tangled grip in the scarf as you kissed him and tugged him to you.

Before he really did get too carried away, Hunter pulled away, but he still kept you tight to him. “I believe you had some thoughts for the use of this scarf? I got some ideas.” Hunter rasped.

“Hmm, I’m much more of a practical learner.” You hummed against his lips.

Stifling a groan, Hunter kissed you once more before he wrapped an arm around your waist and the two of you hustled away to the Marauder.

Masterlist

Tagging@ @noeasyisnoisy, @tpwkcalli, @fuckoffthanos, @arctrooper69, @graciexmarvel, @flyingkangaroo, @nightmonkeysstuff, @a-streakofazure​, @ladytano420​, @dragonrider9905​, @keep-calm-and-drink-caf​, @yyourmotherr​, @xxeiraxx​ 

[reigningqueenofwords]

Who Do You Love?

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Part 8 of Little Soldier

It was approaching Christmas, and Bucky was both excited and nervous. He had been doing a lot more with Dom since the two of you sat with him at that pizza parlor. Things had been going really well between you and Bucky, as well. He wanted to get you something nice, but would likely give that to you alone. As far as he knew, no one in the tower even guessed that the two of you were back together, and had been for a few months. He’d gone Christmas shopping with Steve for Dom the week before, and was now eager to give his son his presents. Which was comical and endearing.

Bucky was currently watching a movie in your room with Dom while you went to see Tony. He had JARVIS to ask you to meet him in his lab, but not why. You honestly couldn’t begin to think of what the eccentric inventor wanted. Licking your lips, you let yourself in. “You wanted to see me?” You asked

Looking over, he beamed at you. “So, I know Christmas isn’t for another week and a half, but I wanted to give you your present now.” He got up. 

“Tony, you can wait.” You chuckled at how excited he looked. “Waiting will not kill you.” You teased him gently. “Why don’t you want to give it to me when we all exchange presents on Christmas morning?” Knowing him it could be anything. 

“Because I’m me, and you know I’ll blurt it out even if you tell me not to.” He said easily, shrugging. “So! Who do you love?” He smirked, amusing you. 

You shook your head, smiling. “If you’re so insistent, just give me the present.” You poked him. 

He put his arm around your shoulders and motioned to a nearby screen. “Okay, JARVIS. Show us.” He told his AI. A moment later, a cute little house was on the screen. “I found a house in Brooklyn. Three bedrooms, a nice little yard, and he can stay in the school he’s in.” He explained. “In the spring I’m getting his soccer stuff all set up for him. Figured you guys can start moving in after the New Year.” He looked so proud that this was your Christmas present. “Plus, I want to get the inside painted to how you’d like to have it.” He went on. “I want you guys to have the home you deserve. I know you didn’t want to go back to the old house, and I don’t like the idea of moving you guys to Maine.” Tony made a face, amusing you. “Too far. So, I’ve been looking at houses over the past six months.” 

Without saying anything, you pulled him into a hug, tearing up. Despite what you were sure many people thought, Tony Stark was one of the most thoughtful people you had ever met. He looked out for those he cared about, and went above and beyond. “Thank you.” You sniffed, feeling emotional. “I had fully intended to raise Dom here, with our family, but the thought of him getting to play in a yard again…” You sighed. 

“Yeah, thought this would be better than me putting a soccer field on the roof…” He joked, making you laugh. “I was thinking we could bring Dom tomorrow? Show you two the house, and you guys can pick out some paint colors?” He offered as you pulled back. “Get some lunch, too?” He looked hopeful about getting some time with you and Dom. 

You nodded. “I think we can swing that.” You chuckled. “I won’t tell him about the house, though. I know you’d love to see his face when he realizes that it’s ours.” 

“Yeah, I will. But, that’s it.” He shrugged. “I’m just working on some tech for the house to get put in, too. JARVIS will be there, you’re getting these windows I was reading about. Saw a video of a dude trying to break it with a sledge hammer. Didn’t even crack. So, I bought one.” He pointed to where one was leaning against the wall. “Gave it a go. Seems pretty strong. Which I know will give us both great comfort.” He knew you were likely thinking of all the things that could go wrong. “Now, I was trying to find a way to get one of my suits to fly out to your house if an alarm sounded. Like a warning type deal while the rest of us get there. However, that’s got some bugs I can’t seem to work out.” He muttered, looking annoyed. “I’m working on it.” 

“I can tell you’re very excited about the tech in the new house.” You teased. “Are you gonna sleep over the first night and tinker if something goes wrong?” 

He smirked. “I just might.” He countered, making you laugh. “Alright, go on. I’m gonna get back to what I was doing. Tell Dom it’s his choice for lunch tomorrow.” 

“I will. Thanks, Tony. For everything.” You said as you made your way to the door. You were nervous after what had happened at the old house, but you were also very excited. Especially for Dom! 

Both Bucky and Dom looked over when you walked in. “Everything okay?” He asked, never knowing what Tony would want. 

You nodded. “I’ll explain more later, but I will say that Tony wants to take me and Dom out tomorrow for a treat.” You chuckled at how Dom perked up. “And you get to choose where we get lunch.” You sat on the other side of your son. “So, I think you should make sure to choose the yummiest food you can think of. Okay?” 

Dom nodded excitedly. “Yeah!” He agreed. “I’ll pick the perfect place.” He promised you. 

Bucky did Dom’s bedtime that night, eager to have the seven year old read to him. He’d learned so much in school, and with Steve, that he barely needed much help. It was the highlight of his days. Once he drifted off, Bucky put the book away, tucked him in, and watched him for a moment before going to find you. You were finishing up the last few dishes, your hair up in a loose bun. He walked up behind you, kissing your neck as he wrapped his arms around you. “So, how about we get some ice cream, go watch a movie, and curl up together?” He grinned. 

You smiled at that. “I think I can agree with that. Want to know what Tony wanted first?” You asked, knowing this would affect him, too. Part of you was worried about how he would react. At the moment, the two of you could see each other easily, and he could do bedtime any day of the week. This would change that entire dynamic. 

“Of course.” He agreed easily, moving to get a couple bowls. “What’s going on?” 

Drying your hands, you turned to lean on the counter, your eyes watching him as he moved around. He seemed so at ease. “He gave me my Christmas present.” You started, making him chuckle. “A house.” You licked your lips as he paused, the freezer door open. “In Brooklynn.” You went on. 

Bucky was quiet as he pulled out the ice cream carton. “He bought you a house?” He asked. 

“Yeah. It’s a three bedroom with a little yard, and Dom can stay in his current school. He’s replacing all the windows with these super strong ones, some other security measures, and something about his suits? I dunno, that’s not working at the moment.” You shrugged. “He’s taking us to look at the house and pick out paints tomorrow before lunch.” 

He sagged, knowing that would make it a tad more difficult to see you and Dom. “When do you move?” He asked, glancing at you for a moment. 

“We start after New Year’s.” You hoped he wasn’t upset. “And then in the spring he’s gonna put some soccer stuff in the back for him. Apparently he didn’t like the idea of giving me his Maine house because we’d be too far.” You chuckled lightly. 

Bucky stopped serving and came over to wrap his arms around you. “I don’t want you to leave.” He half whined as he buried his face in your neck. You hugged him back, surprised at him whining. “You’ll be so far.” He huffed. “And I can’t just come hold you, and spend time with Dom.” You rubbed his back as he kept you as close as he could. “I don’t like that.” 

You felt for him, but honestly hadn’t expected this reaction. “We won’t be hours away, babe.” You said gently. “We’re still gonna be pretty close.” You reminded him. “You can come visit.” 

“Not the same.” His voice was muffled by your neck, amusing you. “I can’t just come climb into your bed when Dom’s having a sleepover with Stevie.” Which he did have a habit of doing. “And yeah, I can say I’m going to visit Dom, but I have a feeling Nat’s gonna get suspicious after awhile.” He sighed as he pulled away, pouting. 

Cupping his cheek, you gave him a small smile before pecking his lips. “Maybe we can start to let the others know about...us?” You said shyly. “Start with Steve and Tony?” You suggested. You felt that things were going really well, and those two people would honestly be the most accepting. “Then work on telling the others before we move?” 

Blinking, he stared at you. “We as in we ?” He motioned between the two of you. “Or do you mean ‘we’ as in you and Dom. Because I can’t tell with the way you said it.” He said quickly, the cutest look on his face. 

You giggled. “Well, we as in we , if you’d like that.” You were nervous as hell, of course you were! “Or even part time to begin with? Like, you coming to stay on the weekends, or you staying here on the weekends? Split your time? I know you still have your job with the Avengers.” You bit your lip. It wasn’t like his very important job was going to go away or anything. 

He slowly smiled at that. “Yeah?” He said playfully. “You want me to tag along? Oh, are we gonna play house?” He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Laughing, you slapped his arm playfully. “Dork.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “So, we’re gonna tell Tony and Steve soon, and plan for you to move with me at least part time?” You asked. 

“I like the sound of that.” He pecked your lips. “Let’s eat our ice cream, watch a movie, and then go curl up together?” He suggested, honestly looking forward to being able to hold your hand whenever he wanted once the whole team knew you were back together. 

“Sounds like a good night to me.” You grinned. You had butterflies in your stomach. “First, do you want me to tell Tony tomorrow while we’re out, or do you want to tell him together?” 

He thought for a minute. “How about you tell him tomorrow, and I’ll drag Stevie out for lunch and tell him? Then have Stevie over for dinner tomorrow night? I’d say Tony, too, but half the time he eats in his lab, or forgets until after dinner’s over.” He chuckled, shaking his head. Not that he’d change the man for anything. No matter how annoying he got at times, he was also a decent guy. 

“Deal.” You agreed. 

Dom watched the city go by as Tony drove the three of you to the house. He had been very excited to see that there wouldn’t be a driver that day. He’d rarely seen Tony drive before. “Almost there, buddy.” Tony told him, glancing in the rear view mirror. “Maybe after lunch we’ll stop at the park?” 

“Please!” Dom grinned. “Can we get cheeseburgers for lunch?” He asked. “Not McDonald’s. Those other ones you brought home? With those big fries?” 

Tony chuckled. “I know the ones you’re talking about. Yeah, we can do that.” He agreed easily. “Good choice. I look forward to it.” 

Dom ran around the house, excited. “I love this house!” He said as he passed you and Tony, making the two of you laugh. You were thankful that he was taking to this so well. You’d explained that you wouldn’t be moving right away, but he liked that. He wanted to have more sleepovers with Steve beforehand. Then asked you if he could have Steve over for a sleepover the first night in the new house. Of course you had agreed. 

“So, getting any color ideas?” He inquired. 

Dom was currently upstairs at the moment, so you decided to slightly mention the Bucky thing. “Actually, I think I’d like to talk to Bucky about it.” You told him, making him smirk at you. “I’ll explain more while he plays at the park.” 

He nodded. “I have a feeling I know what you’re going to say, but works for me.” 

Tagging:

@ilovetaquitosmmmm @vicmc624 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @sebastians-love @differenttyphoonwerewolf

[madameminor]

In More Ways Than One, Part 8 - Bad Batch x F!Reader - ...Punishment

Summary: You did the crime, now you have to do the time.

Tags: 18+ smutty mcsmutterson, porn with plot, basically, all the good stuff

Warnings: Light bondage, polyamory, oral (m and f receiving), p in v, anal, 'punishment', spanking, voyeurism. pet names, lots of pet names.

Notes: Like I said, my doves, here you are! Chapter 8. Hoof, this was a balancing act, and I really hope I did it justice (mostly for myself so I don't come back in a year going OMFG I need to rewrite this whole thing.) Thank you once again @dumfanting for reading and encouraging me! And thank you to everyone who has reblogged or commented. It seriously means the most to me.

Word Count: ~7k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 3.5 Part 4 Part 4.5 Part 5 Part 5.5 Part 6 Part 6.5 Part 7 Part 8 Part 8.5 Part 9 Part 9.5 Part 10

With an audible smirk, Crosshair pushes you forward onto the table, letting your arms free so you can catch yourself against the surface. 

“Keep your hands there until you’re told to move them.” He starts removing the top part of your kit. You look up to see Wrecker watching with that big grin, (“Heh - sorry babe, you did this to yourSELF.”) and Echo sitting on his bunk to the right, still sporting that damn amused smirk. (“It’s for your own good, cyare.”) Something about them watching you being stripped makes you shiver and buck involuntarily, eyes falling back to the table, heat rising to your face. 

Crosshair pushes you down firmly between the shoulder blades, newly bare breasts startling against the cool table. “Needy already? Oh, that’s going to make this so much better.”

DAMmit.

You hear the door slide open as Crosshair starts to remove your lower kit. Tech walks into view, placing a regulation duffle on the table in front of Hunter with one hand, his datapad in the other, eyes trained on you. “Ah, you’ve begun. Then I shall set up quickly.”

He moves off to his bunk, removing his pack, pulling out wiring and small, mobile monitors, setting up a strange little station atop the blanket. You whimper in your throat - until your attention is pulled back by Hunter throwing a magnetized set of cuffs to the ceiling. They stick with a solid *clang*, immovable for even the strongest Wrecker. 

You look back down to see Hunter pulling out rope… made of gauze? Is that where all your gauze went??? What was he thinking?? No wonder you were out, that would take an unbelievable amount to- They could have been seriously injured and you'd need-

“Wrists.” Hunter’s voice snaps you from your quiet outrage.

You bite back your retort, remembering the rules (and the consequences). You present your hands forward and together as meekly as possible. Without looking up, Hunter ties your wrists together, carefully, methodically, with a rather large lead at the end. He tugs it forward.

“Up.”

It takes you a moment to process what Hunter is asking you. Up…? Up where? He lightly tugs the lead forward. What onto… onto the table???

Your cheeks burn as you contemplate disobeying. You can't. You just can't! It's so embarrassing. B-but, if you disobey...

Hunter smirks and tugs on the lead, enjoying your turmoil. “I won’t say it again.”

Without making eye contact with anyone, you slowly clamber onto the surface of the table, grateful that Crosshair slid your knee pads back into place.

You keep your eyes down as Hunter threads the rope through the cuffs on the ceiling, artfully (and effectively) tying your hands up to leave you just short of dangling from the ceiling. You can almost physically feel all of their eyes on you, fully on display for them to admire.

“WOoow,” Wrecker murmurs, “Nice job, Sarge. She looks great.”

Your embarrassment is palpable. Fuck, you are so wet right now, aren’t you. You silently pray that Crosshair doesn’t notice- right before gloved fingers start tracing along your labia, gliding over your clit before moving through your slick.

“Love an audience, don’t you, kitten?” Cross smirks behind you. 

Dammit.

Hunter stays silent as he sits back down, this time against the wall. He looks at the genius still tinkering over on his bunk.

“Tech?”

“Yes, finished.” Tech walks over to where you hang and places a slim metal device around your waist, closing it with a click. 

You shiver at the cool metal, voice cracking with uncertainty. “Tech, what is that?”

“A device I’ve created to monitor your physical reactions to sensual and sexual stimulation. Tonight’s edging will be a perfect opportunity to test its abilities.”

Edging???? All of them were edging you???? You thought you were in for some teasing, or some overstimulation…not… not… waaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!!

“Tech, please,” you whimper quietly, begging for his attention. “Please don’t let them do this, o-or at least, not for too long, I’ll be good from now on, I promise.” 

He doesn’t even look up from his data pad. “I believe you, my Queen, but these are the natural consequences, as you are always warning us about. You must learn to accept them.”

Oh he WOULD throw your own words back at you, wouldn’t he? Jerk. Beautiful, smart jerk. 

“Trying to plead your way out?” You hear an amused hum from behind you. Crosshair leans in next to your ear. “Naughty girl. And you know what naughty girls get?”

Your head shoots up, trying to look behind you. “No, Cross, please - “

Your ass is pulled back, torso pushed forward. 

“The question is, how many? Echo?”

You look over at the once-arc trooper, eyes pleading. Echo wasn’t a sadist, he wouldn’t let it be too bad. Three, four, at most five-

He thinks for a moment.

“Ten.”

“T-Ten??” Your gasp, Wrecker and Crosshair both chuckling at your surprise.

“You earned each one of those, cyare.” He sounds like he’s scolding a child! “I know you can handle it.” 

Crack.

You yelp in surprise at the sudden sting on your ass cheek. Crosshair smooths his hand to soothe the reddening mark before ordering, “Count them. Out loud.”

You clench around nothing. Not only are you being embarrassed on a table for everyone to see - but now he wants you to contribute??

Crack, yelp.

“Out. Loud, mesh’la.”

You whimper, pushing back against the soothing touch of his hand. “O-one.”

“Good girl.” 

Crack “NN!! T-two.” 

Crack “Three!”

As Crosshair continues, you watch Echo stand, removing the top portion of his kit, finishing by one-handedly pulling off his under armor shirt. Its like opening a present, the slight distraction pulling you away towards memories of him glistening with water, thrusting into you with his groans ringing in your ears-

Three smacks in quick succession bring your focus back. “AHhh, seven, e-eight, nine!”

“Heh heh, make this one count, Crosshair.” Wrecker rumbles from his seat at the table. His grin hasn’t faded a bit since you were strung up.

There is silence.

You can only hear your own breathing, your own heart beat.

Oh no, come on, you plead to yourself. The anticipation is almost worse than the spanking.

What is he….

Why doesn’t he just…

CRACK

“AHAAA!!” Oh, that one is going to leave a handprint- the thought makes you shiver. “T-Teeen.”

“Good girl. You took that so well.” He massages over your cheeks, relieving some of the burning. His voice purrs menacingly in your ear.  “Don’t make me do it again.”

Your can’t help the defeat in your whine. “Y-Yes sir.”

Echo starts towards the head of the table. “Tech? You ready?”

Tech doesn’t look up from his monitor. “Yes - a baseline has been established. You may continue.”

________________________________________

Echo stops just before you, taking a moment to admire what he sees - his cyare, all strung up and ready for his personal use. Your eyes are glazing over as you sink into submission, pleading and longing for touch, for relief. Karking hell, he just… you just make him…

He clasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger and kisses you, feeling your relieved, longing whine through your throat. His cock stirs at the contact- he missed you. Misses you whenever you aren’t somehow in physical contact.

He deepens this kiss, hotter, heavier, tongue demanding entry before you let him in, plundering you for your sweetness, for his pleasure. He pulls away, an arc of combined saliva trailing between. Add the kiss- crushed lips to the whole ensemble… kriff, his cock is more than stirring now. He places his forehead against yours.

“I finally get to taste you.” His voice is huskier than normal. 

He feels you shiver in his hand.

“I couldn’t wait to be inside you last time, but now…” His nose nuzzles against you.

You look up, eyes pleading, so desperate, so needy. “Echo…”

“Don’t start now, mesh’la. We’re just getting started.” He kisses you again, taking your lower lip between his teeth, before he releases your chin. 

_______________________________________

Echo slides himself under you like he’s working on a speeder, which would be funny if you weren’t so turned on. You feel his warm breath against your inner thigh as he tenderly kisses your fevered flesh, bucking slightly at the sudden feeling. 

You feel his rumble of excitement through your core, sending shivers and moans up your spine. “So sensitive already? Ah, mesh’la, what have I been missing?”

And all slow gentleness is gone.

“Ech- echo!” His tongue takes you moments before his mouth does, sucking your clit into a heated pulse straight out of the gate. Oh no… he is GOOD at this. You buck gently, panting whines escaping as you watch him claim you, trying to keep up with his intensity. His amused hum sends vibrations through your clit and up through your core. You groan as you work your hips against his tongue, searching for enough friction to sate-

And then he stops. He KRIFFING STOPS!! 

“How’s it looking, Tech?” He grins up at your glare. 

“Excellent, just as I expected. You may continue.”

You gasp at the ravenous return of Echo’s mouth to your cunt, making up for the lost moments. You try to keep your heart rate down, try to focus just on the pleasure instead of the build up - anything to keep his mouth RIGHT. THERE. 

“Mmm, cyar’ika, you taste so good. The boys told me you were divine, but I didn’t know just what they meant until now…"

You clench at the idea of them comparing notes, whimpering as you look back down at him.

“Like that, hm? Knowing we talk about you? Share intel, all the ways to make you wet?” His eyes seem to flash as he watches you slowly lose yourself. He nips at your inner thigh before pushing a finger against your entrance, sliding in to stretch you, pushing out a needy moan from your throat.

“Fuck, E-Echo, yes, more, please, yes.”

He slips in another and starts pumping you full, his tongue teasing along your clit. 

“I could stay down here for days, cyar’ika. Make you cum and cum and CUM while they all watch you lose yourself. All while drinking you til you drown in pleasure.”

“Y-yes Echo, yes. Please. I want to cum for you. I want to cum for you while they all watch me.”

Oh his growl travels through your clit and up your spine and he only pumps you harder. Has he changed his mind? Is he going to let you cum after all, even if the others don’t allow it? Your hips buck, desperately searching for the relief against his tongue, imagining the feeling of cumming like this in front of all of them just like he said-

“Stop.”

DAMN! You whine as Echo pulls away from your clit, his fingers still scissoring inside your tightness. He chuckles against your thigh. Your high fades, making you whine again as you shoot an angry look at Tech.

He doesn’t notice. “Returned to baseline. You may continue.”

Echo slides himself backwards until his hips are under yours, sitting up so he’s pressed against your chest. He gives you a sheepish grin.

“Probably for the best - any longer and I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself from pulling that scream from you.’

“E-Echo…” you whine in your need and frustration.

He brushes your cheek with his scomp, “One day I’ll wring orgasm after orgasm from that delicious cunt of yours. But tonight - is a team effort.”

Then he does something strange - he pushes you up by your lower belly so your knees are on his metal thighs, your ass out just a little bit. He slowly starts kissing your neck, down along your shoulder. You close your eyes to enjoy his lips against your skin…

You feel gloved fingers trace over your labia. Three of them dip into your slick hole, eliciting a gasp while coating themselves thoroughly.

Crosshair’s hiss is amused- and hungry. 

“So wet already, princess.”

Just as you groan, about to beg for more, his fingers leave your pulsing pussy-

-and start lubing your tighter hole with your own arousal.

You buck in surprise… and need. “C-Cross…!”

He chuckles darkly. “You knew this was coming, princess. I’m finally taking what’s mine.”

One finger gently pushes through your ring of muscle, a whole new stretch, a whole new sensation, pushing into his second knuckle.

“So tight here, aren’t you, kitten?” Crosshair rumbles as Echo’s hand on your waist steadies you, allowing Cross to pulse his finger deeper… deeper…

You whimper as Echo kisses back up to your neck, almost overloaded with all of the attention. He smirks, nipping lightly at your exposed skin. “You’re doing well, cyare. I know you can take it.”

Echo gently lets your knees back down to the table. With a final kiss to your neck he leans back on his scomp elbow, starting to pull his cock through the slick of your folds. 

“So beautiful like this, cyare.” Fully coated, he positions himself at your entrance, laying back and gently pushing himself into your concentrated heat. You groan at the size of him - after almost a week of no sex, he feels… this feels… FUCK…he’s so BIG.

Echo’s voice is a feral groan. “That’s right, precious, stretch to fit me. Love watching your face as you take all of me like that. KRIFF, cyare.”

You look down at him, bliss bubbling through you as you watch him come undone. “Echoooo… Echo, NNnnn.”

He gives a few strokes, guiding you along your stretch. “So TIGHT. So hard not to make you cum all around me until I spill into you.” His scomp rests on your thigh, his hand on your waist. 

Crosshair’s finger pulls out slightly, then gently pushes back in, further, further… You whimper, not looking away. “E-Echo, it feels so strange with both of you.”

Even through his pleasure, he checks in with you. “Do you like it, cyar’ika? You can always use your word.”

You bite your lip to keep from groaning too loudly. “Y-yes. I just feel so FULL.”

Echo smiles and rolls his hips, making you cry out in alarm and arousal.

Crosshair snickers from behind you. “Not nearly as full as you’re going to be.” 

Echo groans as Crosshair’s words make you clench around his cock. He starts to move, slowly to get a rhythm with Crosshair. The new sensations together are almost too much- but perfectly so. 

Echo’s eyes are drinking you in while you dangle over him, hardly able to hold yourself together. He moves faster, gripping your hips, doing his best not to push down too hard with his scomp. “Kriff, cyare. Best kriffing pussy In’ve ever had, I swear to the stars.” He’s almost losing himself i his reverie.

Crosshair’s pulses speed up, leaving you bent over and open. You can’t keep yourself quiet, feeling noise pushed from you with every double thrust.

Hunter’s voice rumbles from the far wall. “Wrecker, she’s getting too loud - why don’t you help her with that?”

Wrecker hops up from his vantage point like he’s been waiting for his cue, undoing his codpiece and pulling himself out. You gulp. Thank goodness you’ve practiced with him a bit since last time. He lines himself up after a few pumps, his hand laying on your head. He groans as he pushes past your lips, letting you take him halfway down. You swallow around him, trying to take more. “KARKing hell, babe. Still hungry, huh?” He grunts as he pushes in a bit more. “Look so kriffing good taking three of us at once. Like you were born to be our little bunker bunny.”

Both of your holes clench, and you know Echo and Crosshair felt how much you liked that. Fuck.

With his cock in your mouth, you can moan all you want, muffled by the length pushing into your throat- a good thing too.

Echo has planted his feet, pushing up so each thrust pushes his cock further, deeper, pushing out cries of ecstasy and need that vibrate along Wrecker’s cock, making him moan in return, thrusts fucking in farther as he ravages you for his own.. The feeling of the cool metal of Echo’s thighs against your burning backside combined with Crosshair’s finger stretching, filling- its so much, its so good. Your pants become moans become cries as you rocket towards your height, so full, so FULL, please just keep-

“Stop.”

No, no NO. Echo slows with his own groan, Wrecker pumping his cock twice more down your throat before pulling out with a reluctant groan. You desperately try to move yourself down on Echo’s cock - but the gauze and his grip don’t let you.

He grins through his panting. “Be good, cyare. Not yet.” 

You practically throw a kriffing tantrum. “BUt EchOOooooOO.”

Wrecker chuckles, pushing his cock back between your lips. “Should have thought of that before you decided to make trouble, babe.”

“You may continue.” Tech says decisively, before speaking quietly to himself. “This is excellent.”

Echo slides back into you slowly, adding himself back to the cacophony of sensation between Crosshair and Wrecker. You see Hunter out of the corner of your eye - you can only imagine what you look like. Fuck, the idea of him watching his men all taking you in various ways, using you like the play thing you are right now-

Echo groans through clenched teeth. “Kriff, she keeps clenching. I don’t know how much more I can give boys, she’s squeezing me so tight. Fuck, you look so pretty with a cock in your mouth, cyare. Tech, am I clear?”

“Yes, now is an ideal time. I will alert you if things change.”

With a curse, Echo starts to pick up his pace. “Alright, cyar’ika. Be good and let me cum inside you, hm? Are you going to be good and let me cum without you?”

You can barely answer around Wrecker’s cock sliding its way down your throat. “M-mm-h-mm.’

With a groan he fucks into you faster, chasing his own high, pushing you far enough forward you’re choking on Wrecker’s cock, earning a lecherous groan from the big guy. You hear Crosshair chuckle darkly behind you, pumping his finger all the way in and leaving it there to let Echo set the pace he needs.

God it feels so good you wish you could CUM!! You whine and cry in your need and frustration, tears running down your cheeks from chocking on Wrecker just adding to the effect. “MmMmMmmm!” 

Echo groans as he fucks himself with your pussy. “KRIFF, I know, I know cyare, but you’re doing so good. You’ll be so full when you cum for us, it will feel so good. Now be a good girl and let… me….cum....”

His hips stutter and you can feel him empty himself into you with a soulful groan. You’re so sensitive you can feel every spurt of his cum against your walls, can feel him dripping down as fast as he tries to thrust it all in you. You feel him slowing, whining on Wrecker’s cock while your hips involuntarily move for more.

Wrecker pulls himself from your mouth with a groan, squeezing the base of his cock. “Fuck that was so hot. You almost got me.” He steps back, breathing to get ahold of himself.

You feel first Crosshair, then Echo pull out of your dripping holes, leaving you panting and clenching around nothing. Echo sits up to meet you, kissing your cock-bruised lips to wet his own, his hand holding the side of your face as his lips explore yours.

“So good, cyare. You feel so good like this, letting me fuck myself with your pussy like that.”

“I want to cum Echo, please…”

“I know,” he smirks into your kiss. “But we aren’t done using you yet. If you’re good and let us all take you how we want, we’ll let you cum. Good girls get to cum.”

You can’t help the desperate, pleading look you give him before resigning to your fate. “Yes sir.”

You feel the poking of something firmer than a finger at your tighter hole, lubing up against the dripping combination of you and Echo. You gasp, trying to look behind you.

Crosshair. 

“Relax, princess. Let me finally use my new toy.”

Echo smirks, propping his legs against your thighs to put your ass on display again.

You glance towards Hunter. You gulp, take a deep breath, and relax - hoping he’ll see his good girl trying to make his men happy.

A small smile, a nod. You feel a bit less whiny.

The plug slides in, pushing out a whine as you stretch to accommodate. You hear Crosshair remove a glove, thrown to the side, his now bare hands firmly massaging your ass cheeks. 

“Kriff, princess. Can’t wait to fuck that tight hole of yours. So soon now. Going to make you cry with how good it feels.”

Your hips buck at the lust in his voice - you can feel it like velvet, caressing you along your skin. You glance around - everyone totally saw how much you loved that idea, all of them staring at you. You feel the heat in your cheeks as you look down and away.

Wrecker seems to have regained his composure - and he’s looking at you like you’re a full buffet on Coruscant. “So Tech, can I kriff her now?”

“Yes, readings are at optimal levels - her walls have reached a new level of constriction without stimulation.” Tech’s voice sounds a bit… deeper than usual. “Fascinating.”

“Heh, still tight, huh? Let’s see what we can do about that.”

________________________________________

Wrecker has never thought of adding more to sex than just the sex part, so this whole tieing-you-up to the ceiling thing was a little weird - and totally a turn on. Watching you trapped in place, squirming under his gaze, can’t get away from how good everything feels, the bonds on your wrists the only thing holding you up - like a fruit, ripe for picking. Oh he could just bite into you, and… Damn. Damn, damn, damn.

Sex isn’t usually rough for him - well, not all of it. He likes holding you close. He likes kissing your neck and hearing your happy sounds while he touches your body. But something about you tied up like this…He wants to let you have it. He wants to USE you the way his brother just used you. And cum so far in you that he gets you-

Whoa. That was new. UH, and maybe for thinking about later.

Can you handle him? He hesitates - memories of his strength going too far, cries of pain from allies unintentionally caught up in his exuberance.

But the others are here. His brothers, who have guided him through everything. They know what they’re doing, they’re sharing this weird new world with him. They’d explained what ‘the word’ was, and ‘colors’, and he’d heard them talk to you about some of the things you like; He can trust them. And he can trust you to take care of what you need. 

Right?

__________________________________________

Big, callused hands grip your hips, pulling you back against a broad, warm chest. a rough voice low in your ear. “Babe, you look so good right now. I want to just…Can I just…”

Its the lust that gets you, weakens your knees, quickens your pulse. He’s trying to warn you, trying to give you the chance to say stop, or at least slow down-

“Wrecker…” You don’t have to try to sound needy.

His voice is waiting. “Yeah?”

You hope he can feel the shiver that runs through you as you say - “Yes, baby, please.”

“Fuck.” You feel him buck in turn on at your words. There’s a hand in your hair, digging in and moving your head to the side, teeth finding the junction where your neck meets your shoulder. He bites down while he sinks inside of you, spearing you, pushing you to stretch around him. You cry out with near pain, but mostly pleasure, arching your hips back towards him.

“MM thats right. Gonna fuck myself so good with this kriffing pussy.” You feel him playing with your ass cheeks, gripping them firmly so he can watch himself going in and out of your dripping pussy, pulling himself all the way out before slamming himself in again. 

Once your whines become moans, he picks up the pace a bit, pulling you back by your cheeks, watching his cock emerge glistening from your cunt with each thrust, swearing under his breath. “Kriff, kriff, kriff.” He speeds up, losing control faster than he normally allows, already pushing his full length inside of you. You bite your lip to keep from screaming out his name.

“You like that, baby? Like me fucking you on your knees like this?” He grabs at the back of your neck, holding you in place as he starts to come undone, fucking himself with your sopping wet mess, his balls slapping your clit in a delicious rhythm- 

And then, with a growl, he SPANKS you.

Hard. 

And its fucking bliss.

A cry escapes you, loud and needy, savoring the fading sting of his handprint on the other cheek from Crosshairs - oh, they’re competing, aren’t they? KRIFF they are, see who can leave a better handprint- gods, the idea brings you right to the edge, each subsequent thrust about to send you flying, so close, so close, so-

“Stop.”

That mother fucking-

“Come on… Tech!.. feels so-”

“If we are to teach her properly, we must be consistent. Stop.”

With a groan Wrecker slows, still not pulling out entirely. You whine in your throat and against your bitten lip, panting into the bonds at your wrists. Your hips move back greedily, trying to take him deeper, harder, anything, just anything. You can feel his grip tighten- oh he’s working so hard not to keep fucking you, not to cum in you while you cum around him you’re so close- maybe you could get him to just-

You feel the wave fade, bringing you back down to square 1. Fuck. This. Machine.

Tech murmurs to himself on his bunk. “Hm. That slight delay allowed me to gather further data then intended.” You glance over to your genius. He’s focused, his pupils are dilated, his goggles slightly fogged- this is one of his fantasies, isn’t it? That thought makes you clench again around a stilled Wrecker, who groans into your shoulder. He starts moving again, unable to resist it any longer. 

Every few pumps he smacks your ass, the sting making you cry out in painful pleasure, making you squeeze around him. Fuck this is AGONY, to feel so good, so GOOD with no build up to release the tension, the need building in your walls again. You let out a particularly frustrated whine of need, of frustration.

“Yeah, regrettin’ teasing me now, huh, babe?” OOooo there’s a sadistic note in his voice that just makes this all WORSE. “Gonna mark this ass up, make it so no reg will ever doubt you’re our girl.” 

“I-I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry I won’t do it again, I promise.” You can’t care that you’re begging again, you just need it so bad. “Mark me all you want baby just please let me cum. I want to cum so bad. I’ll be good from now on, I swear I will. Just please let me cum.”

Wrecker bucks inside of you, groaning at your words while picking up his pace. Oh he wants you to milk his cock dry while he cums inside of you. He just needs a little more convincing...

“Please baby, please.”

Wrecker’s practically pleading himself. “Can… Can she?” 

But Hunter’s eyes still aren’t satisfied. He levels his gaze at you. “Not yet.”

DAAAAAMMIT! Needy tears start falling down your face as Wrecker slaps your ass one more time.”FUCK, sorry babe.”

Crosshair’s chuckle makes your hair stand on end. Shit. You thought he was going to let you get away with it.

“Trying to play to the soft one, are you? Just for that...”

Suddenly, the plug in your ass starts vibrating. 

Echo gets to you with just enough time to cover your mouth before you scream, grinning down at your crossed eyes as you squirm against your bonds.

“KARKing hell Crosshair,” Wrecker swears, losing his rhythm for a moment. “WARN ME NEXT TIME.” Echo chuckles as he steps back out of view.

Too much, oh gods in the firmament, its too much- and you can’t get away. You fall limp in your bonds, completely giving over to the pleasure arcing through your body, clenching and craving around Wrecker’s cock, letting the vibration from the plug light you up. Wrecker’s thrusts become more frenzied, more needy, his balls hitting your clit at an even faster pace, all the rivers of pleasure building up into a massive wave that you desperately want to flood you.

“KRIFF, you’re so tight, babe. That’s it, I can’t… I’m gonna fucking cum, I’m gonna fucking cum.”

You can only whimper in return, feeling the tidal wave flooding your senses as he pounds into you.

“Wrecker…”

“No way, Tech… I’m finishing… this time.” 

“Her muscle contraction is continuing to dangerous levels-”

“I’ll handle this.” If you weren’t so far under, you’d care about how mischievous Crosshair sounds right now...

...but you’re a little preoccupied.

“Please please please don’t stop Wrecker please just a little more…” You’re so so close…

Until…

…the vibration in your plug stops. 

It robs you of just enough sensation to leave you short of your promised release, just as Wrecker’s hips stutter, painting your walls with warm ropes of his seed. You whine in protest, desperately trying to fuck yourself just a LITTLE BIT HARDER on his cock - please, please, PLEASE- 

-but its no use. 

You feel Wrecker riding out his high, pushing in as far as he’ll go. 

“Want all of that to stay in there, babe. Want to still be dripping out of you when we walk out tomorrow.”

You clench again, your moan pitiful in its need, looking to find the culprit who foiled your plans.

Crosshair’s smirk is particularly smug. And soon blocked by Wrecker kissing along your shoulder and behind your neck as he pulls out of you, groaning against your skin.

He pants as he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “So…hot… babe. Just so…”

You stubbornly whine and buck against him, beyond words. Wrecker chuckles. “Yeah, I know, I know.” He gently slaps your ass. “Alright, who’s next? Tech?”

The Genius talks like he hasn’t heard him, slightly quicker than usual. “Excellent. I’ve gathered enough data to make this a fruitful session. This will record her levels across the board when she finally orgasms.” 

“Tech.”

“Hm? Oh yes.” He pauses and walks up to you, kissing your bruised lips. “Thank you, my Queen. You will not regret this.” He says earnestly before turning back to his datapad.

“Well, not ALL the time.” Came Crosshair’s chuckle from behind you. The feeling of the plug slowly pulling out is a torturous relief - so foreign and strange, but so empty now. 

_____________________________________________________

Tech cannot remember a time in his life where he's felt as aroused as he does at this exact moment.

Its intoxicating, watching the arousal of his Queen translated into loggable data on his screen - her heart beat, her slickness, her walls constricting - all recorded and stashed away for his personal analysis, his pleasure- keeping you close to him, opening you up to him in a way no one else will know you. Expansive heavens above, even your data is gorgeous.

That. Is EXTREMELY. Arousing. 

Now he gets to claim the rest - the remaining data to complete his first of many trials, watching you cum apart in binary, in stats and readings, all while HE’S taking his pleasure. He gets to physically see how he makes your pretty pussy feel. Fuck, the shiver that goes through him at the thought.

He’s so hard its uncomfortable against his codpiece. So he takes that off. Along with everything else that separates your skin from his, all while watching a gloved crosshair removing your plug and opening your ass just a bit more.

He walks to the table where you hang, panting and whining for attention as Crosshair milks your moans from you - and your eyes open to meet his.

He reaches out, gently tracing his hands down from your collarbone along the outlines of your breasts, coming to rest just above your hips, enjoying the curve where your hips meet your waist, thumb tracing the device that connects you to his datapad, and therefore, to him.

“Would you like to cum now, my queen?”

Your whine is so desperate his mouth waters. “Yes, Tech, p-please.”

___________________________________________________

Tech’s moan as you slide down onto him is the most erotic thing you’ve ever heard - at least, until Crosshair starts pushing his cock into your ass. His groan almost makes you cum then and there: Deep, hungry, excited, ALMOST satisfied. His hands tighten on your waist to keep himself from losing control. You’re grateful, because you’re so overwhelmed by the two cocks filling both of your holes that you can barely make noise. Its so strange, and so good. Mother what have you been missing up until now…

“KRIIIIIIFF Princess, you’re so tight.” Cross pants close to your ear, teeth finding your shoulder, eliciting a cry. You’re already so full, so INCREdibly full. Its…its so much and you’re so full and you have two men you care for stuffed inside you and now he’s biting you. You look to Tech, a mirror of how you feel, his lips parted, eyes feverish, but still observing, watching you as you relax for both of them, thumbs massaging into the crease above your thighs. 

“That’s right, my queen. Let go.”

You can’t even think about what that means - which is probably for the best as your body takes control. You feel yourself sink down closer to tech, letting him support you.

With a groan, Crosshair starts to move. In, out, in, out. His pumps are achingly slow, working you open to fit him one inch at a time.

“Relax for me Mesh’la. That’s it. Let me in.” His words travel up your spine with the same velvety effect, pushing out your whimper as you clench around him and Tech. 

“C-Crosshair.”

He thrusts sharply into you, reacting to his name. “KARking hell, yes, that’s right mesh’la. I’m so hard right now, NNNnnn can feel you squeezing me.” He sheaths himself again, easier than before. “KRIFF.. Tech, you can start moving, she’s ready.”

Then Tech moves, a small thrust up into you to test the waters.

And your nerves liquidate into molten pleasure. 

Its invasive, you’re so open, feeling like everything you are is out for all to see. You have to relax to take them both, have to let them take control so you can take them both inside of you. Tech’s thrusts start to match Crosshair’s, both entering you with firm thrusts to accompany their moans. You fall into your bonds, useless, nothing but feeling and moaning and stretching to fit more, please, more. Balancing between the two of them, feeling them both sliding inside of you, taking their pleasure while you thrive off of theirs.

“Yes my Queen, you’re so wet. You feel so good,” Tech pants. You feel Tech’s thumb start to circle your clit. You cry out a whimper with each circle, unable to control it, reacting purely on instinct. You feel a warm chest on your back: Crosshair leaning in to slide his hand to your throat, thrusting in you that much faster.

“Been wanting to fuck you like this for so long, kitten. Watch you take my cock in your ass while someone fucks your pretty little cunt. Kriff I don’t think I can last much longer, this is too good.” He’s practically growling through his clenched teeth, trying to hold himself together. “Does it feel good, mesh’la? Taking two cocks at once in your tight little holes? Feeling me take what’s mine?”

“S-o g..ood…s…oh… gooood!” You can hardly speak for the tears running down your face, the pleasure finally building to a greedy crescendo amidst clit, ass, pussy, wrists.

“That’s right princess. Can feel you getting close. KRIFF can feel you squeezing me. You’re close, aren’t you? Beg for it.”

“P-l-l-l-e-e-a-s-e…?”

“KARKing hell. Yes, pretty girl, you can cum now. Cum for us. Kriff, cum while I’m finally cumming in your ass. FUCK.”

You feel two of Tech’s fingers slide between your lips, clamping down around them as they lightly press against your tongue. A makeshift silencer. You look down to him and meet his curious, hungry eyes as he watches you. His husky command is quiet and simple.

“Cum with me, my Queen.”

And everything crashes together like a symphonic crescendo.

It hits you like a droid popper, radiating out through your body and along your limbs. You moan against the fingers in your mouth, your muffled cry in sync with your convulsing walls, two cocks pumping their loads inside of you while you milk them dry. You feel them fill you, one in each hole, pushing their seed in further with each thrust. They both slow, working you down from your high as your panting cries begin to slow and quiet. You slide down again, gasping at the familiar motion with the unfamiliar addition in your ass.

You clench around Tech as Crosshair slides out of you with a groan - before he pops in the plug from earlier. 

“So all the mess stays inside.” He whispers, kissing along your shoulder. “I’ll clean me out of you later, precious. Once Hunter’s done with you.”

You buck at the idea, taking Tech a bit deeper, eliciting a gasp from him. Tech sits up slowly, kissing you firmly, but gently.

“Thank you, mesh’la. You did so well, taking all of us. The first of many... experiments.”

You whimper, feeling the gauze holding you up shift. You pull away from the kiss to see Hunter untieing his knots.

“Lean on me, my Queen,” Tech murmurs along your neck, pressing kisses against your glistening skin. “Let me hold you up.”

You relax against him with a groaning sigh, feeling his cock still softening inside you, letting his trailing kisses along your collarbone ground you while Hunter undoes your bonds, massaging your wrists as they're freed from the confines of gauze.

Hunter’s voice is close. “I've got her from here.”

Tech murmurs in your ear. “Are you ready to move, my Queen?”

You nod into his shoulder and he kisses your check tenderly. 

You’re lifted up against a warm body covered in fabric, legs wrapping around instinctually as you’re carried away. You’re placed down on a bed, lips beginning to explore your neck, warm hands firmly massaging along your waist, your torso. With a small gasp, you feel the fire alight in your pussy. You’d think that the edging and the orgasm would have left you sated-

-but nope, it just made you hungrier.

Hunter's voice whispers by your ear, holding you while hands massage along your weary muscles, working you back into a frenzy. “That’s my good girl.”

______________________________________________

It’s so easy to slide into you now. And fuck does it feel so good.

He watches you come back to him, settling from that high and back into his good girl. He was ravenous for you right now, a way he didn’t know he could feel. Watching his squad all take you one by one, at his orders, under Crosshair’s direction - he thrusts into you involuntarily. So hot. It had been so. hot.

Your whimper brings him back - and your buck against him drives him forward.

“My good girl took all of my men, didn’t she?” he growls in your ear as he starts to thrust. “Took all of my brothers and didn’t cum once. Just like I knew she could.”

Your little cries are driving him crazy with need. “Daddy…”

Something in him clicks- he loses a small amount of control, chasing this feeling with abandon and need. “That’s right, my good girl, Daddy’s going to make you cum all over him, got it? Make you cum good and hard.” His pace is nearing relentless. The warning of her orgasm peels from Tech’s machine before it’s quickly silenced.

“Yes Sir, please, please I’m going to cum again.”

And again. And again. Your moans are silenced as someone stuffs something into your mouth.

“That’s right. Let them hear how good your Daddy makes you feel, as loud as you want now. Tell them to watch you cum on Daddy’s cock. “

He feels you start to squeeze around him, and its bliss. He fucks into you with more need, more hunger, riding out your wave and letting it feed his own.

“That’s right, my good girl. Nnh, NNH. TAKE me. FUCK it feels so good when you cum. Cum around me like that again.”

It's impossible to stop this relentless pace as he pulls one, two, three orgasms from you, your bucks finally weakening, lessening, til he knows you’re satisfied, you’re done right. With a growling cry he spills into you, biting between neck and shoulder to practically draw blood, leaving his mark in and on you at the same time. 

You both lay there panting against each other, him nosing against your neck to imprint your scent again- you smelling like all of them, but him most recent of all. Your body relaxes against his, settling down once again, one hand weaving into his hair and holding him close.

He hears a small, amused huff above him. He smiles against your neck. Always the last word.

“So… do you forgive me?” 

He can’t help but chuckle to himself. “Yes, pet. I forgive you.” He grips your arm where his hand lays, firm, serious, but not painful. “But next time… talk to me. Please. I’ll listen.”

“Alright,” your smile becomes a yawn as you stretch to get comfortable. “I won’t do that anymore…” You trail off. 

Wait for it.

“…to you.”

Hmph. He smirks into your shoulder.

“That’s my good girl.”

______________________________________________

Extra note: SOO guess what? I got into grad school!!! I'm so so very excited about it, its definitely a path of my dreams. Here's the thing- Grad school and work are going to take up a LARGE part of my life. What I want to know is, how many of you are actually invested in me continuing this series? If you are seriously a fan and really want to read more, please reblog and/or comment on this and/or other chapters. Likes to me say 'oh this is nice, but I'm not super invested', like you're just passing through (which is cool, just won't be enough for me when I'm that busy). So if you're invested, you want me to keep going, then please reblog/comment to show me you're serious. That way I'll know I can set this as a priority without feeling dumb. ("Like who even reads this?" You know.)

If not, then the next chapter will be the last one, since its got a good stopping place.

Thanks everyone for reading this far :)

_______________________________________________

What up, tag list?

@nunanuggets @mywheezingisalertingtheguards @allhailkingboba @valiantlyminiaturecreature @ladykatakuri @ben-is-a-hoe @klay97 @kaitou2417 @dumfanting @kuromisheart @koifish08 @echo-is-worth-more-than-2000 @badbatch-simp24 @pointy-sharp @rainytears2 @gabile18 @nedxwynert @chopper-witch @nexxxxxxxxx @nightscissor @corona-one @babypandasugar22 @pumpkinkpatch @oohyesplease @princessclaire2 @just-a-shit-ton-of-trama @badbatch-simp24 @foreverhockeytrash @unholy-t-rin-ity @reeny26 @smurderous @xxeiraxx @discarded-beskar @just-an-anxious-ball-of-flesh @mybigfatspoonielife @whore4rex @andyoufollowyourheart @lokigirlszendaya @captain-splock-you @darkangel4121

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Year One (II)

Part Five of Three Years

Year Three | Masterlist |

Pairing: Nathan Bateman x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only.

Length: 8.5K

Notes: ….Hi! It’s the final part!! And only a week late!!! Thank you for reading 💖

Warnings: Cursing; angst; enemies to enemies who fuck to lovers; tech-talk; angst (I know I said it before but really); Nathan being Nathan; vaginal sex; fingering; creampie; choking; oral sex (male and female receiving)

Summary: Keeping Bateman off your mind isn’t so difficult, once you get down to it. Sure, there’s a little a bit of a lull. At the start, hearing him on the odd conference call throws you off for a few moments. In the midst of taking notes, your mind will flash to the sound of him grunting low in your ear, the memory of the press of his body against yours, and the phantom weight of his hand heavy on your throat.

BlueBook’s campus is stunningly large and confusing. Sc(ai)le is a far smaller operation, and is likely to remain so, and you’d been certain when you signed the contract that this vast new environment would be well out of your realm of familiarity. But receiving a map for the BlueBook campus along with your other documentation for orientation made your stomach churn. The differences are staggering. BlueBook’s Silicon Valley office has four separate buildings. 3/4ths of the parking lot is designed for electric vehicles; regular vehicles have parking furthest from the main building. There are multiple cafeterias and cafés on the premises. There are designated nap rooms. 

Maybe it’s an archaic approach, but you go out of your way to print out the map that was sent to you ahead of your first day. When you pull up for work your first morning, you are insanely happy that you did. You stop in the lobby once you get your badge, eyeing the print-out as people simply stride past you like you aren’t even there. You’re almost alright with that. You don't really want to explain who you are to some random BlueBook employee as you ask for help. But this behavior also lays the company’s culture plain. If you were at Sc(ai)le, at least one person would stop and ask if you needed help. Here, moving into a junior leadership position, you’re completely invisible. 

--  

“Sooo, how are the new digs?” 

“...They’re fine,” You fib to Jenn, looking around at the office. It’s not a complete lie; they’re not bad. Your name is on the door; the size is about the same as your old office. But where your office at Sc(ai)le had been bright and open, this feels…Closed in. It doesn’t have the same fishtank quality, and where your old office had initially left you feeling exposed, this office makes you feel like you’re sitting in a file box on a shelf somewhere. There’s a window behind you, but it faces another building, and doesn’t let in nearly the same amount of light as your previous office.  

“Uh-oh.” 

“Uh-oh?” You frown, “What ‘uh-oh’?” 

“I know that tone. What’s wrong with it?” 

“Nothing’s wrong with it!” 

“You sure? I don’t wanna brag, but I know the guy in charge, and I can put in a good word.” 

“Oh, yeah,” You scoff a laugh, “Bring my problem to Bateman for me, that’s all I need.” 

Jenn goes quiet for a few seconds before she hedges, “I thought you guys were better now.” 

You raise your hand, scrubbing it across the back of your neck as you fight back a sigh. 

“We are,” You insist, “I just mean, you know…Even if Bateman did like me, this would so put me on his shit list. And I need to watch my step around here. It’s different now.” 

“Yeah,” Jenn agrees, “It is.” 

You can hear the creaking of her office chair, and practically picture her twisting back and forth in it. 

“Can we do dinner at the end of this week?” You ask, hoping that she won’t call you on the subject change. “I want all of the dirt, you know. Hear how it’s going with my fearless leadership.”

“Sure.” It’s a relief as her tone shifts, as you can practically hear her smile. “Friday? Saturday? Sunday?” 

“Friday, please. I’m guessing I’ll need all weekend to recover.” 

“You’re damn right,” She chuckles. “Friday it is.” 

“I’ll text you some options before I make any reservations.” 

“Sounds good.” 

“Alright. Have a good day, Jenn.”

“You, too, girlie.” 

You smile, lowering your phone and hanging up. You’re about to set it on the desk when your phone flashes with another call. You grimace at the sight of the contact, despite the way that your stomach flutters. You consider not answering it at all—and then swipe to answer it right before it can go to voicemail. 

“Took you long enough.” Nathan doesn’t give you a chance to say a thing before he’s filling your ear. “Who were you talking to?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I got a busy signal twice.” 

“That’s none of your business.” 

“I wanna know.” 

“Well that’s too damn bad.” 

“I could take a guess.” 

“Feel free.” 

“...” 

“Well?” 

“I’ve decided I don’t care.” 

“Do you have a reason for calling me?” 

“Figured I’d check in, day one and all that.” 

“Nothing to report so far.” 

“Really.” 

“Nope. Had two whole meetings and got my email set up.” 

“Well look at you, you little overachiever. Usually people don’t get their email set up until their second day.” 

“You know me, I like to hit the ground running.” 

“Mhm. Listen, I’m gonna be in town this weekend—” 

“Okay—” 

“—So I’ll put something on your calendar.” 

“For what reason?” 

“To check-in.” 

“I think check-ins like this are just fine.” 

“I may as well see you while I’m in town.” 

“What for?” 

“It’s customary to take a new hire in leadership for dinner.” A pause. Then, “Why else would I want to see you?” 

You lean back in your seat, fighting the urge to squeeze your thighs together. The way he leads you into this question shouldn’t send tingles through your body. You’d forgone Bateman’s invitation to visit him before your stint at BlueBook had started, and haven’t been with him—or anyone—in a few weeks. Still, you’ve had longer dry spells. 

“I don’t know,” You pass off breezily. “You tell me.” 

“I don’t miss you,” He laughs. You think that he may mean for it to sound cruel, but you’ve come to know him a little too well, and he shockingly just manages to miss that mark. 

“Good,” You lean back in your seat a little more. “I don’t miss you, either.”

“Good.” 

“And I’m afraid I have plans this weekend, so unless you’re planning on adding some kind of bonus or overtime on this, I won’t be joining you.” 

A weighty pause, a truly stomach-churning beat before, “Fine.” 

He practically yawns it. 

“Great,” You pronounce crisply. “I have a meeting to get to, so—” 

“That’s funny, so do I—” 

“I’m gonna hop off—”

“—Happy to give you some time back.” 

“Great.” 

“Sure.” 

You draw the phone back from your ear again, rolling your eyes as his contact flashes, then disappears. Happy to give you some time back—the audacity. As if he'd put an actual meeting on your calendar for that useless call. You lean a little further back in your chair, then flail and hurriedly straighten before it can fully tip backward. Yikes, that was close. You puff out a panicked breath as you settle, tossing your phone onto the desk. 

He doesn’t miss you. Good! That’s good. You don’t miss him either. You don’t want him to miss you. You don’t need him to miss you. 

You need…To charge your vibrator. You could get on the dating apps again. It’s been a while. The last time you bothered was before you joined Sc(ai)le. Maybe the dating landscape isn’t as bad as it used to be.

You wince, shifting in your seat. You already know that you’re kidding yourself. There’s no way the apps are a good option now. They were barely a good option then. You’ll just have to up your vibrator game. There’s one you’ve had your eye on for a while, anyway. Nothing better to get with your signing bonus.

--  

Keeping Bateman off your mind isn’t so difficult, once you get down to it. Sure, there’s a little a bit of a lull. At the start, hearing him on the odd conference call throws you off for a few moments. In the midst of taking notes, your mind will flash to the sound of him grunting low in your ear, the memory of the press of his body against yours, and the phantom weight of his hand heavy on your throat. The first few times, you swallow thickly and reach for your coffee, or water, washing down the thought. Slowly, though, you manage to put a wall up. The Bateman on the phone isn’t the same guy that had fucked you, or the same guy that you slapped. 

Okay, well, technically, he is. 

But this is Business Bateman. This guy is no longer at least one level removed from your day-to-day. You’d been fucked by Bastard Bateman—Banker Bateman, even. This Bateman isn’t teasing any of you over the phone during team meetings. There aren’t hefty pauses for effect, or to bait you into answering him first. He’s to-the-point. He doesn't wait for answers; he demands them. 

After a couple of months, you manage to convince yourself that you prefer it this way. You tell yourself that you don’t miss Nathan. You don’t miss his cock, his teasing, or smacking his smug fucking face. It really is better this way. Your life is almost back to normal. Your friendship with Jenn is on a positive trend. You manage to see her at least every other week, and your smiles at the mention of Nathan’s name gradually become less forced. 

The shift is critical. Despite your relative proximity, you feel far less tense on a day to day basis. Sure, there’s an itch that just isn’t being scratched for you right now—but you’re not bracing for whatever shit Bateman may pull next, or operating with a fear that Jenn may learn just how much time you actually spend with Nathan. It still weighs on you, though. There are moments when you feel the heavy truth of it on your tongue, and you consider telling her—but the conversation otherwise feels so bright, and so easy, and you can’t bring yourself to shatter the moment. 

You’re certain Nathan hasn’t told her, either—if he had, you’d know by now. Jenn doesn’t shield her feelings well from anyone, but especially not from you. You know that her crush is still affecting her in full-force, but as far as you know, she hasn’t acted on it. The conversations about Bateman becoming part of the board would’ve backed off by now if she had. If anything, those have increased. 

Worse, from what she’s been telling you, you think that he may be considering it. You’re in no place to influence business on either end anymore. You don’t want to buzz in Jenn’s ear, insist that she take more time to think about this. She’s been thinking about this move for three years now. You don’t want buzz in Nathan’s ear about it, either. Whatever you tell him to do, you’re certain he’ll do the exact opposite to spite you. The only thing worse than impacting Jenn’s company negatively from the inside is managing to negatively impact it after you’ve left. Sc(ai)le’s direction is none of your business anymore. You need to make peace with that. 

--  

“Knock knock.” 

You can’t help but look up, stunned. You haven’t heard his voice over anything but a phone for nearly six months. That’s sort of your fault—he did offer to take you to dinner. But you didn’t trust him then. You almost don’t trust his appearance now. Frankly, seeing him shouldn’t be such surprise. You work at his company, after all. But this little sneak-attack is something that you haven’t been treated to in a very long time. 

“Hi there,” He adds, and you realize that you’ve done nothing but stare at him. 

“Hi,” You manage. “You here for a talk or are you just stopping by?” 

“Just stopping by.” He pushes himself off of the door frame, and you turn back to your laptop as he takes lazy, drifting steps around your office. You watch him out of the corner of your eye, taking in the snug fit of his polo shirt, and the swell of his ass beneath his—sweatpants. The man wore sweatpants to his own office. You can’t help but shake your head a little as you come to that realization, turning fully back to your screen. 

“You here for the All Hands?” You ask. 

“Yup.” 

“Surprised you’re not zooming in as usual.”

“I happened to be in town, figured I may as well make an appearance.”

“In sweatpants?” The indignant shock slips out before you can stop it. He just snorts, amused. 

“I have a change of clothes in my office.” 

Of course he does. 

“So,” He rounds your desk, leaning against it and watching you work, “How do you like it?” 

“The work? It’s fine.” 

“Better or worse than Sc(ai)le?” 

“Not better or worse. Just different.” 

He watches you for a few moments longer. “But BlueBook is better, right?” 

You roll your eyes a little bit, biting back a smile. 

“If it helps you sleep at night, Nathan, yes. BlueBook is better.” 

“I knew it.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“I’m telling Jenn.” 

“She’ll never believe you.” 

“...Do you still have that policy?” 

You immediately know exactly what he’s asking about, but you let out a confused, questioning hum. 

“Not sure what you mean.” 

“Really.” 

“You’re going to have to refresh my memory.”

You hear the soft huff of Nathan’s laugh, and the slight hush of him pushing off of your desk. You’re certain that he’ll just leave, but Nathan rests one hand on your desk, and the other on the back of your chair as he leans over you. 

“Well I’ve been told,” You shiver as his breath brushes your neck, “That you don’t fuck your boss.” 

“Oh, that policy.” 

“Mm.” 

“That one is still in place.” 

“Really.” 

“Firmly.” 

“That’s too bad,” Nathan sighs. 

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You’re fired.” 

“Sure.” You don’t even flinch. You know that he’s not serious. At least…You’re pretty sure. 

“Pack it up.” 

“Can I send this email first.” You glance back toward him, and feel a touch of relief when you find him smiling warmly at you. You shake your head a little, turning back to the screen as you fight off your own smile. 

“Thought you said I wasn’t irresistible,” You remind him. 

“You’re not.”

“And that you don’t miss me.” 

“...I don’t.” 

The pause makes your stomach flip. You swipe your tongue across your lips, considering. 

“In town for long?” You ask. 

“The next week.” 

“Alright.”

 “So?” 

“So…” You shrug, “Maybe I'll quit BlueBook for the weekend.” 

“Just the weekend?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Hm.” 

“You can’t expect me to…Quit for longer than that.” 

“You haven’t taken any vacation days, have you?” 

You scoff, turning toward him fully. 

“Excuse me, but I might have plans for that.” 

“Do you?”

“That’s none of your business.” 

“I’m making it my business.” 

“The weekend.”

“The week.” 

“The—I can’t do that.” 

“Sure you can.”

“It’s too short notice! I’d have to work out coverage.” 

“Then work it out.” Your stomach swoops as Bateman leans in a touch closer, his gaze sweeping from your eyes to linger on your lips. “Call in sick today after the All Hands and we’ll get a head start.” 

“You’re trying to get me in trouble.” 

“You’re making it harder than you need to.” 

“Your cock or your plan?” 

Nathan grins. 

“Would it shock you if I said both?” 

“Not one bit.” 

“Good.” He grips your jaw, giving it a squeeze before he lets go and straightens, turning away. “Block off your calendar. I’ll send you the address.” 

You lean back in your seat, unable to help watching him as he leaves. You wait for him to turn back, to shoot you a smile or a wink, to tell you that he’s kidding—but he doesn’t say or do a thing as he goes. You bite your lip, hesitantly turning toward your laptop again and opening your calendar. The next week doesn’t look…Too busy. There are a few status calls that you’re not necessarily needed on. The deliverables that you have could be shifted, and surely in the next week, you’ll have some time to yourself. You can bring your work laptop home with you. You wince. You’ve done a pretty good job of keeping your work out of your apartment. But hell, it’s been three and a half years. If you’re only starting to take your work home with you now, that’s pretty good. 

You have 20 PTO days. Are you seriously going to take five of them just to be at Bateman’s beck and call? 

--  

You don’t even make it to his place before it starts. 

You can’t focus through the All Hands; you’re distracted. You can’t get your head together. You sit there, going back and forth and back and forth on whether or not taking this time off is actually a good idea. You could always take the time and then go back to the office if you decide that this just isn’t working for you. But then, Nathan might talk you into staying with him for a few more days. 

How the hell did he talk you into this in the first place? 

You desperately try to swallow against your drying throat, glancing around. Everyone is engaged with what Bateman is saying up front, or splitting their attention between their laptops and phones, still answering emails and slack messages while Bateman fills them in on funding updates and the state of the company. You ought to be focusing, too, but you suddenly feel so—hot. It’s not sexy, either. It’s like your skin is prickling from the inside. You scrub your sweaty palms against the fabric of work jeans, shifting uncomfortably in your—in your seat—

You push yourself up, mumbling your apologies as you squeeze past the other people in the aisle. You don’t look back as you hurry toward the door at the back of the conference space, even as your ears catch on Nathan’s comments that the latest BlueBookTab is set to complete its final round of QA by the end of Q2. 

You wind your way through the halls, your stomach twisting with discomfort. You already put in for your time off, cited the fact that you were sick. Surely your hasty exit would’ve lent credence to that—but maybe you could still retract that PTO request. Or maybe you could—Hell, what can you do? 

You reach your office and draw in a relieved breath at the complete silence and calm. Water, you need water. You take up your water bottle, taking a greedy swig. You must’ve had too much coffee this morning, maybe that’s why you feel so—blegh, so weird. Or maybe it’s a sign. If you feel this uneasy, this unsure about spending time with Nathan, it must mean that your time likely wouldn’t be such a good idea, anyway. You can tell Nathan that. You can calmly, rationally tell Nathan that you’ve changed your mind. He won’t care—

“What’s going on?” 

You whirl around at the sound of his question. Nathan looks almost bored, and sounds mildly perplexed. 

“What are you,” You wave back toward the door, “What about the All Hands?” 

“It’s finished.” 

“...Oh.” 

“Yeah. You ran out, like, right before I wrapped things up. Did you pay any attention to the agenda?” 

“Not really, no.” 

“Why did I even hire you,” Nathan chuckles, kicking the door shut behind himself. 

“You tell me,” You bite out. Nathan rolls his eyes, further rankling the irritated nerves in your belly. 

“Relax, sweetheart. It was a joke.” 

“It wasn’t for me.” 

“You want me to tell you?” His brows raise as he walks closer. “You’re kidding me.” 

“And if I’m not?” 

“What’s wrong with you?” He presses. You push a short breath out through your nose, shaking your head as you search for the words.

“I’m just—” You clear your throat. “I’m having some second thoughts.” 

“About?” 

“This.” 

“BlueBook?” 

“This,” You clarify, waggling the finger between the two of you. 

“If you’re that worried about coverage, bring your laptop with you.” 

“Then what’s the point in leaving the office? Look,” You groan, “I’m sure you can find someone else to fuck.” 

“Sure I can. I have.” 

It’s like a slap in the face. You stare at him for a moment, stunned. 

“I—Then—” You splutter, “Why—? Are you with someone?” 

“Not with,” He plops into a chair. “Just…You know.” 

“No, I don’t know, Nathan. That’s why I’m asking.” 

“The hell does it matter to you, huh? Why are you so hung up on this?” 

“I’m not, I’m just—” 

“—You clearly are—” 

“I just want—Fuck, I don’t know, if you’re like, dating someone, I don’t wanna insert myself in whatever the hell mess that would be.” 

“I told you, I’m not with anyone,” He repeats boredly. “Satisfied?” 

You consider for a moment. Are you? You’re not sure you are. You were having reservations before he mentioned that he had found someone else to screw around with. 

“...No,” You finally determine, shaking your head. “I’m not.” 

“Fuck,” Nathan groans, tipping his head back before he pushes himself up out of the chair. “Alright, forget it. I don’t know when the hell you got so fucking boring.” 

“Excuse me?”

“What, is your listening comprehension going, too?”

“Fuck you!” 

“You had your chance, sweetheart.” 

“You wanna say that to my fucking face, Bateman?” 

Seeing him stop just a few steps from the door and whirl around to you makes your hair stand on end. 

“Which part did you miss, huh?” He spits as he grows closer, “Where’d I fucking lose you?” 

“You haven’t had me since day one, you self-centered, self-righteous asshole—” You suck in a breath as he roughly grips your jaw, shutting you up. Your heart pounds in your chest as Nathan presses close, backing you up against the harsh edge of your desk. You raise your hands, grasping Nathan’s wrist so roughly that your nails bite into his skin. His lips twitch with a contentious smile as his hips shift against yours. 

“I haven’t had you since day one where, honey? Here?” He asks in a low, cruel murmur. He nudges you back to sit on the desk before he tips his head, eyes searching yours. “This is my company, sweetheart. My name’s on the fucking door. I’ve had you the entire goddamn time.” 

His mouth covers yours before you can gripe or argue. You groan at the contact, only allowing yourself to savor it for a few moments before you bite down harshly on his plump lower lip. Nathan’s hand slips from your jaw, smoothing down to squeeze around the sides of your neck. You whimper, reaching out to grasp and twist the fabric of his collar, hauling him closer. Bateman draws back with a slick sound, peering at you as he squeezes just a little harder. Your lips remain parted, heaving in tight breaths as stars begin to crowd your eyes. You hear a sharp whine, and it’s a moment before you realize that the sound came from you. Nathan tuts and shushes you softly as he loosens his grasp. 

“There’s no lock on that door,” He murmurs, “You want everyone to come in? See you spreading your legs for me like this?” 

You hurriedly shake your head, and his smile widens. 

“Then I guess we better occupy that mouth of yours.” 

-- 

It’s a risk that you never would’ve taken in Sc(ai)le’s offices. Those hadn’t been even remotely private—if anyone had walked past when you and Bateman were there before, they would’ve seen you. Now, unless someone knocks on your door and comes in, no one will know. 

Still, your position doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. If any one walked in now, they’d see Nathan’s bare ass, and your hands grasping his hips as he thrusts into your mouth. 

Your hold on him is fairly futile. With his hand on the crown of your head, you have little range of motion. You’re hardly moving, just holding your mouth open as he thrusts roughly between your lips. Your eyes water as you peer up at him, as you watch his tongue swipe across his lips, his gaze dark as he watches you. He shoves his hips forward harder still, and you struggle to recoil as you gag, as he keeps your head locked in position. He finally lets up, and you sway backward, coughing roughly as you swipe to clear away the spit that’s leaked along the sides of your lips. You watch Nathan chuckle, grasping his slickened shaft. Your thighs twitch, sending a tingling through your wet, neglected cunt. Before he can ask—before he can demand it, or say a word, you kneel up again, taking the head of his cock between your lips. He huffs out a soft laugh, hips twitching before his hand smoothed over your cheek, thumb sweeping across your cheekbone.

“Yeah,” He coos, “I missed you, too, sweetheart.” 

You groan, sinking your nails into the meat of his thigh as you swipe your tongue along the veined underside. 

-- 

“You hungry?” 

You don’t answer right away, and maybe that’s why he presses, “Hey.” You feel him sweep his hand along your naked lower back. It makes you sag even deeper into the mattress. “You alright?”

You draw in a deep breath, leaving your eyes closed as you consider. You are aching, and sated. You feel fucked-out, and cozy, and…

“Yeah,” You finally mumble, though it’s a herculean effort. Your tongue feels heavy, and your lips feel oddly…Gluey. “I could eat.” 

You feel the bed dip, and hear the sound of his feet padding across his bedroom floor. It’s chased by the rumble of a drawer opening, and you wince as it’s then slammed shut. You roll onto your belly from your side, turning your head from the thud as another drawer is opened. You feel the bed dip again a moment later. 

“Here,” He urges, dropping some clothes within reach. “Should’ve stopped by yours to get some clothes.” 

“...Mmm.”

You hear him chuckle, and feel his hand on your cheek. 

“Open your eyes for me.” 

You finally do, blinking up at him where he’s leaning against the headboard. It shouldn’t be such a warm sight, considering the struggle in your office, but a tired smile unwittingly pulls at your lips. 

“Do we have water?” You mumble. 

“No. I’m a billionaire without access to water.” 

“Shut up,” You groan, pushing yourself back onto your back and squinting up at the harsh lighting. “What time is it, anyway?” 

“Almost nine.” 

“...In the..?” 

“Evening.” 

“Mm.” 

“Here.” 

You look up as you hear the crisp crack of a water bottle being opened. You push yourself back just a little, settling your head on his thigh and taking hold of the proffered bottle and cap. 

“Don’t spill it,” He mutters. 

“I won’t.” Probably. Maybe you will, just to spite him. God knows how many bedrooms he has, you can probably find somewhere else to sleep. You draw in a greedy gulp, then another. It’s so cool; you didn’t realize how thirsty you were. 

“Slow down,” Nathan counsels boredly as he takes his phone up from the bedside table. “You start choking on it, I’m just gonna laugh.” 

“You usually laugh when I choke,” You mumble, lowering the water. He huffs softly, nodding. 

“That’s true. What do you wanna eat?” 

“I don’t know. What do you have here?” 

“I’m gonna order something.” 

“Oh.” You think for a moment before you tip your head back to look at him. “What are you hungry for?” 

“Think we both know what I’m hungry for.” 

“That’s not hot, it just sounds cannibalistic.” 

“Don’t get too close to my phone, Clarice.” 

“Fuck, your Hopkins needs work.” 

“So?” 

“Grilled cheese,” You finally decide, closing your eyes again. “With bacon and tomato.” 

“‘Kay.” 

“And a chocolate milkshake.” 

“Alright.” 

“And fries.” 

“Thought the fries were implied.” 

“Just confirming.” 

“Cheese fries or regular fries?” 

“Mmm…Regular.” 

“Drink your water.” 

You raise your hand obediently, taking another few sips. You hear Nathan set his phone down on the bedside table after a few moments. 

“You wanna get cleaned up?” He asks, smoothing his fingers down your throat. 

“Not yet.” 

“Alright.” 

You feel Nathan’s hand rest over your throat for a moment before he lets his touch drift lower. 

“Should see if I have a turtleneck in here,” He comments. 

“Why?” 

“You’re bruising.” 

You open your eyes, surprised as you wave toward your throat. He nods, smoothing his knuckles gently along the sides of your neck. You bite your lip, considering. 

“Was I too rough?” He asks. 

You shake your head. 

“You sure?” 

You nod. 

“I need to hear it,” He insists. You huff softly, capping the water and setting aside. You push yourself up on slightly shaky arms before pressing yourself into Nathan’s side. It seems like his arm curls around your waist on instinct as you nuzzle against his neck. 

“You weren’t too rough,” You murmur. “Okay? If I’d wanted you to stop, I would’ve told you to.” 

You feel Nathan nod slightly, his hand splaying on your waist. You close your eyes, resting against him. 

“Maybe we should establish a safeword, though,” You offer after a moment. 

“Sure. Jenn.” 

“What?” 

“The safeword.” 

You reel away, socking Nathan in the shoulder as he grins smugly at you. It’s a stupid decision—your head spins from moving too fast. You rest that same hand on Nathan’s shoulder to steady yourself as you grumble, “That is not even remotely funny.” 

“C’mere,” Nathan urges. “You’re gonna make yourself sick, moving like that.” 

“Your fault,” You mumble, though you cuddle up against him again. 

“Uh-huh.” Nathan turns his head, nuzzling against your hair. 

“...Crypto,” You finally say. 

“You want your safeword to be crypto?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I hate it and it’s something I’ll remember.” 

Nathan snorts a laugh before you feel him nod. 

“Crypto it is.” He smooths his hand up your back, rubbing in small circles. You let your eyes slip shut again, allowing yourself to relax as the pressure in your head drops away. It’s strange. Even when you and Nathan fucked around before, it wasn’t quite like this. Sure, you had moments when he’d keep close, or when you didn’t get up right away, but you never made an effort to cuddle up, and he never made it a point to keep you this close. He used to relish in your discomfort, not try to lessen it. 

It’s almost frightening how long it took for you to shut him out during your time at BlueBook, and how quickly you let him back in. It took one evening for him to unravel you, beyond the bounds of your prior…What could you call it? Association? Relationship? 

“Drink your water,” He urges again. You shift a little reluctantly, leaning away from him to take hold of the bottle before leaning against him again. You yawn widely as you unscrew the cap, taking another few sips. You hold it up questioningly, and Nathan takes it, drawing in his own gulp before pressing it back into your hands. 

--  

He hovers. 

Maybe it shouldn't be such a surprise, considering how depleted you were before you got out of bed, but you never expected Nathan to be the type to…Hover. You can feel him watching you as you settle on a seat at his kitchen island, resting your chin on your hand and fighting back a yawn. You can hear him unpacking the food, popping the containers lids before pushing a few over toward you. 

“Here,” He urges. “Sit up.” 

“Ugh,” You groan, pushing yourself and opening your eyes. “Is there a straw for the milkshake?” 

Nathan pokea through the bag for a moment before he throws one toward you. You flinch, fumbling to catch it before ripping off the wrapping and jabbing it into the lid. 

“Thanks.” 

“Mm.” 

You pull in a taste, shoulders wiggling with joy as the sweetness sweeps across your tongue. You reach out, opening the container and picking up a couple of fries. You glance over as Nathan leans against the counter across from you. 

“What’d you get?” You ask, nodding toward him. 

“Veggie burger.” 

You hum, popping the fries between your lips. You have to fight the urge to cram a few more in before you’ve even finished chewing. You didn’t even realize how hungry you were. 

“Still having second thoughts?” Bateman asks. You frown, and he clarifies: “About this week.” 

You press your lips into a thin line as you consider. You pop the lid off the milkshake, dipping one of the fries inside and swirling it around. 

“Not in the same way,” You admit. 

“What’s still tripping you up?” 

“...I never told Jenn.” 

You can feel Nathan’s gaze as you reach for half of your grilled cheese. 

“Never told Jenn what?” He asks. 

“Anything, about, you know. This.” 

“You need to?” 

“No! No, not need, no,” You shake your head, “But…I’m a shit friend, you know. She likes you.” 

It’s not fair to tip her hand like this, without her knowledge, but there’s no way that Bateman doesn’t know this by now, right? Still, it’s a moment before he lets out a grunt. 

“What?” You sigh. 

“Nothing.” 

“It’s clearly something.” 

“She didn’t tell you.”

“Didn’t tell me what?” 

“Remember when I said that I found someone else to fuck?” 

It’s like he’s dumped a bucket of water over your head. You freeze mid-chew, gobsmacked, your heart dropping into your stomach as Bateman reaches out, snagging a few of your fries as if he didn’t just turn your world upside. 

“...Uh…” You shake your head, “I didn’t—I had no—When?” 

“I don’t know, last year?” 

Last year. You shake your head a little, trying to knock a response loose. 

“Wu—uh…When?” 

“After your party.” 

“The party where you asked me to come stay with you for a week?”

“Yeah. But you didn’t, so.” 

“So you fucked Jenn because I didn’t fuck you.” 

“I fucked Jen when you didn’t fuck me. You weren’t the implicit cause. That make you feel better?” 

“A little, yeah, I guess. But that doesn’t uh—weird feeling. This is a weird feeling.” 

“I’m a little surprised she didn’t tell you.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, me, too.” 

You reach for the milkshake, slugging back a gulp and wincing as brain freeze sets in. 

“You gonna get all weird about it?” Nathan asks. 

“I’m not—No. No, I’m not making this weird. I’m not gonna let this get weird. We’re gonna fuck.” 

“If you’re sure.” 

“All week, I mean we are gonna do it. A lot,” You insist, pointing at him. Nathan’s lips twitch in amusement. 

“Alright,” He concedes, holding his hands up, “Jeez. Long as you leave it attached.” 

“...Did you ever mention this to her?” You ask, waving between the two of you again. 

“No.” 

“Okay.” 

“Are you going to?” 

“If I do, I’ll give you a heads up.” 

“Whatever.” 

“Was it just the one time?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay.”

That shouldn’t make you feel superior or good, but…Well, it kinda does. You and Jenn haven’t had a tug of war over Nathan, per se, not personally. It sounds like what they had was a one night stand than a real relationship. 

Still, it’s her business, and her…Business. 

“Cut it out.” 

“What?” You blink, frowning. 

“I can see the smoke coming out of your ears.” 

“Oh—Shut up,” You gripe, throwing a fry at him. He smiles, picking it up from where it lands limply on the counter. 

“So?” He asks, “Are you staying?” 

-- 

The two of you don’t spend the entire time in bed. It’s just not physically possible, and the two of you do need breaks every now and again. Neither of you can draw yourself entirely away from work, either. You manage to contain it. You don’t let it creep into the rest of the house. You make a little space for yourself in his office, curling up in the corner of the couch and hunching over your screen and keyboard. Your time off is approved, but you still answer a few emails a day, and dial into a few status calls, just to keep up to date with what’s going on with your team. Nathan spends a fair bit of time working, too. You’re fascinated by the wall practically papered in post-its, even more fascinated still as you actually watch him work. 

For all of Bateman’s pointed teasing and distraction while you worked with one another at Sc(ai)le, he has laser-focus when he’s working on BlueBook. You don’t take the same pains to annoy him as he had with you. You’re too interested in the way that he iterates, how he conducts himself when speaking to other staff members, how he occasionally mutters to himself as he makes notes. While you’re working, it’s like you’re hardly there. He’ll catch your eye every now and again, but for the most part, he leaves you to your own devices. A time or two, when you’re dialing into the same meeting, Nathan dials in and brings his phone over to the couch so that the two of you can listen in together. 

You shift closer to him when he does, sitting side by side. Whenever Nathan unmutes, you’re careful to keep completely silent. You don’t want anyone to get even a hint that you’re there. It’s not against any company policy, but my god, it would set the team’s tongues wagging. 

After one such call, Nathan hangs up, pitching the phone into the other end of the couch and grunting, “Fuckin’ idiots.” 

You can’t help but smile. 

“You do know that I’m still here, right?” You ask. 

“You think I forgot?” Nathan turns to look at you, brows raising, “You gonna tell ‘em?” 

“What?”

“You gonna tell ‘em that I think they’re fuckin’ idiots?” He shifts toward you. You shrug, turning back to your laptop and reopening the email that you’d been drafting before the call. 

“Probably not.” 

“Oh, probably not.” 

“Freedom of speech.” 

“Freedom of speech protects you from the government, sweetheart. Not from me.” 

“I don’t need anyone to protect me from you.” 

“No?” 

“Nn-nn.” 

“You sure about that?” 

Before you can answer, Nathan snaps your laptop shut and tosses it to the floor. 

“Are you crazy?” You screech as Nathan climbs over you, steering you back onto the couch. You give his chest a shove, but it hardly moves him as he crowds against you. His hands skim up your sides, and you can’t help but grin and squirm against him as his lips cover yours. 

You think that time must be mellowing him. You’ve been with Nathan for three days straight, and you can’t help but notice a few…Differences. It goes well beyond the hovering. 

He hasn’t kissed you so much since that first night. Nathan seems to almost delight in your kisses now. He takes his time slotting himself between your legs, spreading your thighs wide as his tongue spears past your smiling lips. He doesn’t hurry things along as he used to—though in fairness, these days, you have far more time than you used to. You’re not cuddling up in some dark corner, wary of being seen, or caught. You’re not hurrying out of bed, covering up as quickly as possible and shooing him out to scrub the sweat from your skin. 

He doesn’t turn you, shove you into the wall, into the mattress, into the backseat of his car. Now, face to face, he tugs your panties aside and eases his sweatpants down just far enough to draw out his hardened cock, and ease it into your slick, aching pussy. The two of you groan against one another’s lips as he sheathes himself fully inside you. You raise your hands, cupping his cheeks and swirling your tongue along his as he plants his knees against the cushions to gain purchase. 

Nathan reaches down and hikes your shirt up as your hips press together. You shiver as he ducks his head, his beard brushing harshly over your pebbling nipple before he takes it into his mouth. 

“Fuck, Nate,” You moan, fingers hooking in the fabric of his shirt. He hums, teasing the nipple lightly with his teeth before he draws back. His kisses trail up your neck, brushing over your throat. 

“Your bruises are starting to fade,” He murmurs. 

“Oh?” 

“Mm.” 

“Are you gonna fix that?” 

Nathan leans up, grinning. 

“Maybe later, baby.” 

You reach up, shoving at his chest and urging, “Up, get up.”

Nathan shifts back, sitting on the end of the couch and pushing off his sweatpants. You draw your top off and kick away your panties before you clamber onto his lap. You steady a hand on his shoulder, reaching down and grasping his length before easing down onto it. You whine softly as you settle into his lap, as he slides his hands up your back and draws you close. You lean into him, resting your forehead against his as you begin to roll your hips. 

“Come on,” Nathan urges, “You can do better than that.” 

You laugh a little, resting your hands on the back of the couch. 

“I’m doing exactly what I want.” 

“I want more.”

“Well that’s too damn ba—ad! Fuck!” You whimper as he grasps your hips, steadying you and snapping his hips up harshly. Your mouth falls open as he takes control of the pace, fucking up into you almost punishingly. 

“Nathan, goddamnit,” You breathe as his fingers press more hardly into your hips. 

“You close?” He murmurs. 

“N-no.” 

“Too bad.” 

“What do you—mean, oh, you piece of shit,” You whine as Nathan tips his head back, his hips jolting harshly as he spills into you. You reach down to play with your clit, but Nathan shoves your hand away and pushes your hips up. You frown, confused as Nathan slips down, then grin as he shoves the coffee table back. He sends it scattering as he slides down and lowers himself to sit on the floor, resting his head on the cushion and dragging your hips down to his lips. Your fingers flex in the fabric of the cushion as you peer down at Nathan. His tongue swipes across your cunt before he gives your lips a sucking kiss. Your hips quiver as he swipes his tongue against your tingling clit. You grind greedily against his questing tongue and lips, chasing your pleasure. 

“Almost,” You warn. Nathan hums against you, hurriedly lapping his tongue against your clit and grasping your hips to draw you even closer. A stunned moan leaves you as he sucks your clit, lashing his tongue against it until you’re shaking, hips rabbiting against him. Nathan moans, tipping his head to and fro and nuzzling your tender flesh as you ride out your orgasm. You push yourself off of him, flopping back onto the couch. It takes Nathan a moment to push himself up, and you groan as he drops himself on top of you. 

“Noooo,” You groan, “Get off’a me.” 

“Why.” 

“I’m all hot and sticky.” 

“I know.” 

“So are you.” 

“I know,” Nathan grins, nuzzling up against you and pressing closer. You whine, kicking your feet irritatedly.

“You’re awful,” You mumble, looping your arms around his shoulders regardless. He grunts, peppering your neck with tender kisses. 

“I know that, too.” 

-- 

“I’m going to have to tell her.” 

“Have to?” 

You meet Nathan’s eye in the mirror as you dab foundation over the newly blooming bruises on your neck. 

“Have to,” You nod. 

Nathan leans in the doorway of the bathroom, watching you closely. He seems to be considering it before he nods a little. 

“Alright.” 

“Are you okay with—” 

“Yes.” 

“Okay.” 

“What are you going to tell her?” 

“That…That we fuck.” 

“Okay.” 

“What else would I tell her?” 

“No, that’s accurate. I was just curious.” 

“We can talk about the verbiage—”

“We fuck,” He agrees. “It’s fine.” 

“Okay,” You nod, directing your gaze back toward the mirror and pumping some more foundation onto your beauty blender. 

“That what you’re going in?” 

You glance down toward your outfit—your jeans, and one of Nathan’s t-shirts. 

“Yeah,” You shrug. “We’re just grabbing bagels, nothing fancy.” 

“Are you gonna be long?” 

“Jeez,” You laugh. “No, dad.” 

“Hey,” He pushes off of the door frame, sauntering closer. “We’ve only got a couple more days here. I’m heading back soon.” 

“I know.” 

“So?” 

“So I told you, I won’t be long.” 

“Good.” 

“You’re such a big baby,” You mumble as Nathan cuddles up against your back. You smile as his hands smooth over your hips and belly. 

“You’re a goody two-shoes that can’t lie to people.” 

“Yeah, god forbid I have a conscience. I’m really not coming up with the short end of the stick here.” 

“You aren't coming up with the short end of anything,” Nathan murmurs, rolling his hips against you. You snort, swatting back at him. 

“Cut it out, you perv. I’m gonna be late.” 

-- 

“...Are you going to say anything?”

You don’t think she will for a few long moments. Jenn’s expression is frighteningly unreadable. She roughly swallows the large bite of bagel that she'd taken before she clears her throat, setting the bagel back down. 

“Let me get this straight,” She leans back in her seat. “You have spent the last…What, three and a half years telling me, swearing up and down that you hate him—” 

“I think ‘swearing’ is a little strong—” 

“���And now you’re telling me that you’ve been fucking him? For a year?”

“...Ish,” You nod, “It’s, um…Maybe closer to a year and a half. Although—That’s elapsed, if we went by the amount of time we actually spent, it’s probably closer to…Six months?” 

“Oh, if it’s elapsed.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Well that makes it sooo much better.” 

“Yeah, I thought it—...You’re being sarcastic.” 

“God, you’re so smart.” 

“Look, Jenn, I know this seems kinda bad on the face of it—” 

“It doesn’t seem bad. It is bad.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Well, that makes me feel much better.” 

“I didn’t mean to—” 

“You knew that I liked him!” 

“...Yeah,” You lower your gaze to your untouched food. “I did. What I did was shitty, I’m not pretending it’s not. I should’ve told you after the first time it happened, and it shouldn’t have happened again. Frankly, it…It probably shouldn’t have happened at all.” 

Jenn pushes a sigh through her nose as she raises her hands, scrubbing them over her face. 

“Do you like him?” She asks after a few moments. 

“What’s that got to do with anything?” 

She shoots you a disbelieving look as she lowers her hands, and you hold your own up in concession. 

“I think, it’s just…” You consider for a few moments. “When it started, it was…Angry. I was angry, I was mad at him, and the sex kinda worked some of that out. I’m not mad at him like that anymore. I’m not even angry about that entire situation anymore, I’m…I guess I like him,” You finally concede. “Not like-like—Christ, I sound like a teenager, I just mean, um…” You shake your head. “We’ve reached…An amicable place.” 

“And that place is his bed?” 

You bite back a laugh as you nod a little bit, “Sometimes.” You watch Jenn for a few moments, taking in the furrow of her brow and the thin press of her lips. “How pissed are you?” 

“...I’m not gonna pretend I’m happy about it.” 

“I’m not asking you to.” 

“You should’ve told me.” 

“I know. I honestly didn’t think it would keep happening, but it did.” 

“Even now?” 

“...Yeah.” 

“Wow.” 

“Sorry.” 

Jenn huffed a stunned laugh, shaking her head. 

“I need to process this.” 

“I totally get that. Take your time.” 

“Gee, thanks for your permission.” 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“...Are you wearing his shirt?”

-- 

“You wanna talk about it?” 

“Not really.” 

“Talk about it anyway.” 

You roll your eyes, looking down at Nathan. His chin is resting on your belly, smoothing his hands along your thighs. You sigh softly, shifting slightly under him.

“It could’ve been worse,” You concede. “She didn’t, like…Flip, but she wasn’t happy about it. Obviously.” 

“Didn’t think she would be.” 

“No, me neither.” 

“Well thanks, Mr. Smarty Pants.” You sigh, smoothing your hand over his head and honing in on the feeling of the his buzzed hair against your palm. “I’m gonna have to give her space for a while.” 

“She ask you to?” 

“No, but when Jenn is mad like this, she needs…Time. She comes back to me, not the other way around. I can’t push.”  

“What if she doesn’t come back?” 

Maybe he means it as a harmless hypothetical, but the prospect makes you feel queasy. It’s a thought that you’ve been grappling with all afternoon, that had caused tears to prickle in your eyes as you’d driven back to Bateman’s place. You shake your head wordlessly, swallowing thickly and directing your gaze toward the ceiling. 

“Okay,” He concedes. You smooth your hand down to his nape, letting your eyes close as you draw in a deep breath. It’s strange to find comfort in the way Nathan covers your body with his and nuzzles into your neck. He shouldn’t be so sweet with you, not after everything that the two of you have been done. But he cuddles close nonetheless, taking your hands in his and settling into silence. 

--  

“You gonna miss me?” 

He is teasing now. You glance up from your laptop as you sit on Nathan’s bed, watching him sort through his dresser drawers and draw out a few items to pack for his trip home. 

“...Yeah,” You admit after a few moments. “I think I am, a little bit.” 

He casts a surprise glance over his shoulder. 

“You can always come up and see me.” 

“After the week off I just took? No, I don’t think I always can.” 

“Figure of speech.” 

“Inaccurate.” 

“You gonna cry when I take off? Throw yourself onto the tarmac in front of the jet?” 

“Oh, yeah. I’m gonna actually stay here, waste away in this bed without you.” 

Nathan turns toward you again, tossing a shirt in the direction of the duffel bag before he climbs onto the bed beside you. 

“Close it,” He urges. 

“Almost done here.” 

“Close it now.” 

“If you shut it on my fingers and throw it again, I’m gonna punch you in the nards.” 

Nathan snorts, sliding down against the headboard and resting his head on your shoulder. You can’t help but smile at the warmth and weight of him beside you, and the way he repositions his head to get more comfortable. You finally finish your email before you make a big show of closing the laptop and setting it aside. 

“Can I help you?” 

Nathan turns his head, nudging his nose against your neck. 

“You could stay here,” He offers. 

“I like my place. Besides, I don’t have any of my shit here. I’ve been wearing your clothes, like, all week.” 

“I know. Looks good.” 

You smile, shaking your head. 

“I don’t wanna stick around when you’re not here, Nathan.” 

“And if I am around?” 

“...Might be nice,” You shrug, looking down at your discarded laptop. “But you’re not around much.” 

“That could change.” 

Your stomach flips at the assertion, and as Nathan looks up at you, you force a neutral expression. 

“If it’s in the best interest of the company, then sure, I guess,” You excuse. You finally chance a glance toward Nathan, and find him watching you closely. 

“...I’d like it,” You admit softly. Nathan nods, murmuring, “Alright.” 

You nod, looking down at your lap. You'd said three little words, but they feel so dangerous. Your nerves turn to the fluttering of butterflies as he presses a tender kiss to your jaw. 

“You’re just adorable,” Nathan murmurs, and you grin at the mocking sincerity in his tone. 

“Yeah, well. You’re short.”

Tag list: @missredherring; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ;  @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @nolanell ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychelsea ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices​ ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @aellynera ; @writefightandflightclub ; @thedukeofcaladan ; @beepboopyoda ; @foxilayde ; @revolution-starter ; @rachelwritesstuff ; @queen-of-elves

[didhewinkback]

Something Old: Part Five

word count: 20k (omfg); story page

warnings: smut smut smut

---

“No - mum - you’ve gotta tilt the - I can’t see - can you get Archie to help you?”

“Oi, I’m not a bloody senior citizen, I can handle a bit of tech.”

“Okay, but the way you’ve got the camera angled, I’m looking up your nostrils right now.” you say, watching as she tries to angle the camera differently, only making your view worse. 

“Oh bugger it all…” she mutters before shouting: “Archie!!!” almost right into the microphone, making you cringe. 

“Right in my ear, mum.”

“Sorry, love.” she says, before bringing the phone closer to her face, bringing you impossibly closer to her nose hairs. “You alright, bug? Looking a bit peaky.”

“Yeah, you look like shit.” Archie says as he snatches your mum’s phone out of her hand, making a face at you on the screen. 

“Hello to you too, dickhead.” you shoot back.

“Language!!” your mum clucks.

“Mum, he literally started it.” you say as Archie snickers on the other end, flipping you off, before passing the phone back to your mum with a “it’s this button here”, and then suddenly you’re staring at her new garden, fresh azaleas that she and Anne planted fully in bloom.

“Oh, it looks great!”

“Changing the subject, I see,” she muses, before stage whispering, “Don’t worry, I won’t mention the H word.”

“Mummmm,” you groan, Archie’s laugh echoing as he heads back into the house. “I’m fine, honestly. Just haven’t been sleeping well, been a weird few days.” 

“Yeah, gotta be a tough month, huh?” she says, quickly speaking over you when she sees you open your mouth. “I know, I know, we’re not talking about it. Let’s check out these pansies…”

Right. That. It had been one month since you last saw Harry. One month since you last spoke to him, since he last held your hand, since he last kissed you, since he last pressed you into the mattress…okay, best not think about that when you’re on the phone with your mum.

It’s been an adjustment, to say the least. Once you touched back down in London, you realized you had no plan for what you were going to tell the people in your life about what went down. The ones who knew you and Harry, the ones who were at the wedding, the ones who would have about 18 billion questions for you. Like your mum who was about to have your head if you didn’t give her some sort of update. Or your schoolmates from home, who were blowing up the group chat with their 8th conspiracy theory about what really went down by now.  Or your roommate Roxy, who knew you like the back of her hand, and was the first to steer you towards the bar the first night you met Erin and was the one who held you while you cried when they announced their engagement. You trusted her with your life, but could you trust her with Harry’s?

To even question that made you ill. You had been so caught up in your Italian lovenest that you hadn’t taken any time to think about the reality you were coming back to. A wedding was supposed to happen but didn’t because of you. No matter how many times Harry tried to take the blame, you know your confession was the catalyst, the impetus for him calling it off. And now you had to face the consequences alone. Did you pretend you knew just about as much as everyone else, which you’re hoping is not much? Lie to the people you’re closest to? For two months?! That sounded insane but you also knew you couldn’t go around telling everyone the whole truth. Jesus Christ. 

You hid in your room for a day or two, slowly digging your way out of the hole you found yourself in, taking it one step at a time, wishing you could talk this over with him, but knowing you couldn’t. You decided to operate on a strict need to know basis, which means your mates from out were out. You left the group chat alone, there were enough messages in there that maybe they won’t realize you never responded and it’d be far too suspicious to join the conversation now. Johnny definitely knew something was up, he had sent you a separate but simple “hope he went and got you x” that made your head spin a bit, as you realized he’s probably known something was up for years but you could deal with that later. 

You called your mum to assure her you were alright, back safe in your flat, that you would come home to visit soon and explain everything when you could.  She was not satisfied with that answer, you could practically feel her rolling her eyes at you through the phone, but she let you off the hook, this time. And, now that you think about it, you couldn’t go home because that would mean seeing Anne and who knows what she knows and what you could tell her and what Harry doesn’t want her to know quite yet - 

Okay. No. You couldn’t live like this. 

You had still been ruminating on what to do about Roxy as you snuck out to grab a glass of water, wondering how to approach this. You needed someone to talk to, you couldn’t just keep this all bottled up on your own and this was one of your best friends, and your newer, closer proximity to Harry wasn’t going to change that. 

“Okay I let you have one day to mope but you had about two hours before I was going to stage an intervention.”

The sound of her voice made you jump in the air, so caught in your head you didn’t even hear her approach. 

“Jesus Christ, Rox. Scared the shit out of me.” you said, turning to face her.

“I’m serious, babe. You’ve been like a little recluse.” she said, propping herself up to sit on the counter. “How bad was it? Didn’t hear from you all weekend and you haven’t left your room…so I’m assuming, pretty bad.”

Moment of truth. You could lie and pretend for the next two months or you could tell the truth. Have someone to confide in. She had been on this journey with you for years and she would absolutely kill you if she learned you were hiding this from her.

“Um. Actually. He didn’t get married.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I’m serious.”

“Is it because…” her eyes searched your face, widening when she realized. “Holy shit. Did you? Oh my god - I’m actually going to cry. Did you tell him?”

You nod. 

“That’s my girl!!” she screamed before tackling you to the ground, the two of you cracking up the whole way as she demanded details.

After you swore her to secrecy, to which she scoffed “Mildly insulted you even had to ask, babe.” you told her everything. From the confession in the courtyard, to him asking you to leave with him, to a first date in Italy, to where you are now, on pause. It feels insane to say it all out loud, in disbelief that this is your life, that that whirlwind 72 hours actually happened.

“You’re going to make me believe in love again.” Roxy said, still laying on the kitchen floor with you.

“Shut up.” you said, rolling your eyes, unable to stop the blush on your cheeks.

“I’m serious. So happy for you. And proud of you. ” she said, reaching out her hand for you to hold on to. “I know this next bit is gonna be rough, but you got through all that shit to get here. And you got me. Yeah?”

So you thought, yeah, okay, maybe you could do this. You threw yourself into work and catching up with friends, doing anything you could to distract yourself, ignoring headlines and social media at all cost. Some weeks were easier than others, with Roxy always there to drag you out with your friends when you were getting too overwhelmed by it all. 

You went home, which was awkward at first, until you assured your family that everything was good but complicated, that you were figuring things out and it would be easier not to talk about it. To which your parents reluctantly agreed, both looking chuffed and a bit red around the eyes as they squeezed you a little tighter. Archie tried his luck later at the pub when it was just the two of you, only dropping it after being sure you knew “if he hurts you, I’ll kill him” in a way only younger brothers can.

You could do this. As long as you were distracted with work, family, friends. As long as you didn’t let your mind wander, as long as you kept busy, as long as you didn’t think about Harry or Erin or the wedding you ruined or the relationship you were maybe in that was on pause. It was then you began to falter. Late nights where you found yourself seconds away from googling him, wanting to be sure that both teams held up their end of the bargain, before shutting off your phone, knowing if something changed, he would tell you. 

You could drive yourself crazy wondering what he was up to, if he was happy, if he’d want this break to go on for longer, if the time away made him change his mind. As the weeks went on, you began missing him more than ever, his absence weighing more heavily on you than it ever had in years before. It felt different, this time.  

You had never felt like this before, in a relationship. Like you needed the other person. Not even in any sort of way, just needed to hear their voice or see their face. You missed him so viscerally it was shocking to you, and made you question everything. Why were you missing him so much? Was it just because you loved him or was it because you were so insecure you couldn’t believe the relationship would work unless you had eyes on him? What type of person does that make you? Erin would be able to handle a two month pause. Doubts crept into your mind, as you tossed and turned on your bed in the late hours, unable to quiet your racing mind. Insecurity wove its way into your brain, feeling pathetic in a way you hadn’t in years. 

So yeah, you hadn’t been getting much sleep. 

“Is Roxy there, love? Would love to say hi.” your mum said, pulling you out of your thoughts and bringing you back to the present. 

“Do a wellness check on me, you mean?” you ask ruefully as you get up to head to Roxy’s room, knocking softly before entering as she leaps up to take the phone from your hands, almost immediately closing the door on you, to have the conversation away from your prying ears. 

“Mama Ang!!” you heard her crow before her voice dropped down to a whisper. “You know, babe, I know just about as much as you do. The girl won’t tell me anything…”

You rolled your eyes, though it was hardly annoying to be this looked after. You had a great support system to get you through this. You were fine. You could handle sleepless nights and moments of doubt, you had great people in your life there to support you and fill the gaping hole you were beginning to feel in his absence. 

It was about a week and a half later when it all fell apart. 

The distractions were becoming less effective, the questions and doubts rattling around in your brain more often than not. And then…it was just one of those days. You slept past your alarm, the line at the cafe down the street was too long to stop at before work and you were almost positive you were about to get your period, if the way you teared up watching a girl and her grandma reading together on the tube was any indication. 

Then, you hadn’t been paying close attention at work and had missed an entire section on a grant proposal that had been sent in earlier that day. Your boss called you into her office and reamed you out, making you feel like a proper idiot.  You never make mistakes like this but that didn’t seem to matter. You spent several hours on the phone before the board agreed to accept the edited proposal, which you stayed after hours to write up and send in. It was late when you arrived home, exhausted and wrung out, just looking forward to taking a hot shower and getting into bed when you saw a note from Roxy on the coffee table saying the hot water was off and the landlord couldn’t come until tomorrow to fix it. 

And that was it. 

You collapsed on the couch, tears immediately pouring out of your eyes in frustration, stress, exhaustion, all the emotions you had been trying to keep at bay the past month rushing forward. You were dialing your phone before you realized what you were doing, eyes flying open when you heard the first few rings and immediately hanging up. You couldn’t do that, not yet. There were still a few weeks until the end date and this hardly constituted an emergency, just a bad day you could get over by yourself despite how badly you wanted to hear his voice. Feeling so sorry for yourself another fresh round of tears sprung to your eyes. 

He probably wouldn’t even notice the missed call but maybe you should text him just in case? Like a “please ignore, that was an accident”? You didn’t want to double down when you weren’t supposed to be in communication at all. You hated this feeling of overwhelming doubt, questioning yourself at every turn, resistant to even slightly overstep the boundaries he had asked for. You hadn’t been thinking. Why did you dial his number?! 

Your phone started to vibrate in your hands. 

Shit. 

It was him. 

You wiped your face, clearing your throat in an attempt to sound like you hadn’t in fact been having a mental breakdown, adjusting your airpods before you answered.

“Hi,” he said breathlessly, as if he ran to pick up the phone. “Just saw you called - wouldn’t have missed it if I saw.” 

“Oh you could have missed it. It’s not important.” Your words were flying out of your mouth, tripping over your tongue in embarrassment.  “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean -” 

“Whoa, hey. ‘S alright.” he says gently. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fine.” you say, your voice coming out choked, a bit strained, completely unconvincing. You clear your throat. “Just a shit day and wasn’t thinking and called your number on instinct. Wasn’t trying - I didn’t mean to break the pause.”

“Fuck the pause. We started it, we can break it.”

“It’s really not important –”

“Sounds like y’ crying, that sounds important to me –”

“But H, you asked for space –”

“Yeah space to sort my life out, not to leave you alone when you’re upset.” he says adamantly. “Know what I asked for but y’called me crying and I don’t care if it was an accident or not, ‘m not going anywhere until you talk to me.” 

“But I’m not gonna just barrel all over the boundaries we set and the space you needed because I had a bad day.”

“I appreciate that and I promise I’d tell you if I thought this was crossing a line that I didn’t want to. But ‘s not. Want you to talk to me.”

“If you’re sure - ”

“Dead sure. Quite flattered that I’m your go-to call.”

“Okay,” you say, snorting a laugh as you roll your eyes. “Now I’m gonna hang up.”

“Heeey. Talk to me. Please?” 

And you do. You catch him up on your day, your boss being an asshole but also you feeling so stupid because you did in fact mess up and it wasn't like you were getting yelled at for nothing. He responds in all the right places, each hum, gasp or “fuck them” he utters making your heart warm, the feeling of talking to him for the first time in weeks settling something in you, tears long forgotten. 

“Shit day,” he says emphatically once you finish as you hum in response. “Know I don’t know much about that world but I do know that you’re brilliant at that job. And there are very few people who would own up to a mistake and stay late to make it even better than before. They’re lucky to have you and they better bloody know it.” 

You snort out a laugh. 

“‘M serious.” 

“I know you are.” you say softly, playing with the pillow on your lap, fingers scratching over the patterns. “Thank you for listening.” 

“Course.” he says, just as soft. “I miss you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” he says, scoffing a laugh. ‘Why do y’sound surprised?”

“I’m not, I just was getting so in my head the last few weeks, it’s been nice to hear your voice.”

“Getting in your head about what?”

“Oh, no, it’s going to sound so stupid -” 

“Try me.”

You heave a sigh, feeling your cheeks warm. He says your name gently, pleadingly. 

“I’m not sure I even know how to articulate it.”

“Take your time, love. ‘S just me. Not going anywhere.” 

You pause, listening to the sounds of him breathing on the other end, the silence helping you focus. 

“I just think I…” you pause, taking a breath. “I’ve been surprised by how different this feels? Like I’ve gone this long without seeing you or talking to you before and it’s been fine but the last two weeks I’ve felt like, needy for you in a way I’ve not felt before.”

He hums in surprise, you can practically see the way his eyebrows shoot up, can hear the smile growing on his face.

“Okay, you arse, not like that.” you say, laughing when he does. “Okay - not entirely like that. I just think… I didn’t expect to miss you this much. Like I miss you more than I ever have. And the stakes are different this time, I just –”

You pause, every thought you’ve had these past few days rattling around in your brain as you try to sort them out. He stays silent on the other end, patient. Not pushing you into speaking before you’re ready. 

“I think I didn’t realize how much I was affected by what happened the last time we saw each other. To go from not having you to having you to suddenly not having you again...it scares me that something like that could happen again.”

You hear him inhale sharply on the other end, every self conscious fiber of your being telling you to be quiet, to tell him you’re fine, it’s all good and you’ll see him in a month. It’s what you’ve always done with him, it’s what you did all those years ago, scrubbing at dishes in the sink at Christmas when he looked so confused and lost, wanting to scream all your emotions at the top of your lungs but instead swallowing them down and hiding yourself away. It’s not like that anymore, things are different and you’re different. You have to plow through.  

“And I know that’s why we’re doing what we’re doing, why we’re on pause, to sort everything out which was necessary and I don’t regret it at all. And I know this pause isn’t how our relationship will feel, like a pause is different, in the future we’ll be talking more often and seeing each other. I just think I wasn’t expecting to feel all this much.”

“It’s never felt like this before, for me. A relationship, I mean. I got so self conscious about why I was missing you so much that I started to doubt things and feel insecure but talking to you now I think I just…”

“You just what?” he asks gently.  

“Just…really love you?” You say with an embarrassed laugh, hearing the almost startled sound he makes, like his emotions got caught in his throat. “I've not felt like this before about anyone. Not even you. Which is amazing and scary and… I’m so used to closing parts of myself off to you in order to hide my true feelings for you which aren’t a secret anymore. So it's an adjustment, to fight against the instinct to keep things to myself, not to show all my cards. Because I want you to know all of me, all the cards, I'm just not used to knowing that can happen.” 

“Makes sense. I think there’s definitely going to be adjustments as we’re entering new territory. But I’m here for all of it. I don’t want you keeping your feelings from me.”

“I know, I’m still getting used to it, I guess.”

“Yeah, I get that. But I love when you need me.”

“Yeah, I’m well aware –”

“Oiii you didn’t let me finish,” he all but whines. “Just mean you can be kind of a closed book–”

“Hmm, sound familiar?”

“Y’keep interrupting me and ‘m gonna hang up.”

“No, you won’t.”

He pauses. 

“No, I won’t. You’re lucky you’re hot.” 

That startles a laugh out of you, his chuckles on the other end warming you down to your toes.

“If you would let me finish - my sentence you numpty -” he says quickly the second he hears your intake of breath, effectively cutting off the sexual innuendo he somehow knew you were gearing up to say. “Y’ always encourage me to tell you what’s on my mind, but so rarely do the same for yourself. And I…I want all of it, with you. All of the mess and the ugly feelings. Think we got ourselves into this mess by keeping too much to ourselves and that’s the last thing I want. When it comes to you, I want it all.”

“And it goes both ways, ‘ve gotta be letting you in too. Like..” he takes a deep breath, letting out a sheepish laugh at himself. “I almost called you about 8 times that first week, convinced y’ were going to realize I’m more trouble than I’m worth.”

“What?”

“We were in so many meetings about when I would first be photographed again, how long I should stay away from the public for ‘nd I was just like why would anyone sign up for a lifetime of this if they didn’t have to?”

“Harry - “

“I know it’s crazy and we can talk about it more when we see each other again - just wanted you to know that the doubts are happening to me, too. And then I talk to you and it’s exactly as you said.” he says and you can practically hear the smile in his voice. God, you miss him. “‘S never felt like this for me, either.  And it’s nice to know that all the bullshit and fears don’t come close to how I feel about you. Really love you too, you know.”

You can’t explain the noise you make at that, gripping your phone a bit tighter, feeling butterflies erupt in your stomach. This was real. All the anxiety fueled doubts couldn’t come close to the reality. He was yours. You were his. 

“I miss you.” you say, the words barely scratching the surface of all you want to say to him.

“Ah, now she says it -”

“Oh my god -”

“Couldn’t be bothered earlier but she hears three little words and suddenly –”

“I’m actually going to kill you.”

“No, you won’t.”

“No, I won’t.” you agree. “Turns out I’m not so keen on doing life without you.”

“Me either,” he says softly. 

You sit there in silence, a small grin on your face, as your fingers scratch the pillow on your lap. 

“Can I ask how things are going over there? Or would you rather wait?”

“No y’ can, it’s –” There’s a loud crashing sound on his end, followed by laughter.  “Shit - hang on.”

“Are you with people right now? You didn’t have to -”

“Wanted to.” he says, not even entertaining your argument for a second. “‘S just Tom and Tyler. Came out a few days ago to write with me. Was writing a bit like mad on my own. Turns out I had quite the inspirational weekend a month ago.”

“I mean you did experience about every emotion on the spectrum.”

“Nah, think it was just being with you.” 

“Oh yeah? Writing songs about me?”

“Mmm, wouldn’t be the first time.” he says, your mouth dropping open in shock. “Got lots of lines written about those eyes of yours…the way you get a little dimple when you’re smiling really hard, the look on your face when you tell me you love me…”

He pauses, inhaling deeply, his voice coming out like gravel when he says the next bit: 

“How you feel wrapped around me.”

Your mouth goes completely dry, hands tightening on the pillow, heart racing. 

“How you look when you’re about to –”

“Gonna cut you off before we get in trouble.” you say shakily. 

“Don’t mind a bit of trouble, me.” 

“Yeah, I’m familiar. But feel like that would absolutely fracture the rules of the pause.”

“Fuck the pause. Throw the pause in the bin –”

“I should let you go back to your friends.”

“I’ll get new friends.”

“Harry!” you say with a laugh, hearing him chuckle on the other end. “I’ll see slash talk to you in like 3 weeks yeah? 

“Okay,” he grumbles. “But y’ can call me any time before then, if you need.”

“Appreciate that. You can too. Going to try to get through these next few weeks on my own, though.” He hums in response. “Aaaand pause resumed.” 

“You’re so stupid.” he says laughing. “Talk to you in three weeks, baby.”

“Didn’t mean to cut you off I just … I’ve dreamt about our reunion sex so much the last place I want to have it is over the phone.” you say, hearing him splutter on the other end. “See you in three weeks love you bye.” 

He practically squawks in protest as you giggle and hang up, feeling ages better than you had before you called him. You’ve never had that before in a relationship. You feel lighter, freer. And loved. 

Your phone buzzes with a text.

H

That was just mean. 

H

Love you. Just 3 weeks xxx

Yeah, you were loved. 

—-

You were absolutely about to jump out of your skin, feeling like a kid on Christmas morning as you woke up hours before your first alarm. You grabbed your phone, immediately reading over the flight details he had sent you a few days earlier with several “xxxxx” in tow. 

Today. He was coming back to you today. Holy shit.

You had taken a far healthier approach this past month, letting the bad feelings happen instead of trying to ignore them with distractions, getting back in touch with your therapist to explore those fears of letting yourself be fully seen, and being Roxy’s ultimate wingwoman, though she did see right through you when you kept encouraging her to see that guy from the bar again tonight. What you were calling being a supportive friend, she was calling a blatant attempt to not get cockblocked. Tomato, tomahto. 

You had been sleeping better, feeling better and were more than ready to see Harry again. It was nerve wracking, heading into this new chapter, knowing there were no planned pauses, no other people entering the chat, it was just going to be you and him. After all this time. Holy. Shit. 

You were cleaning your living room for the umpteenth time, still having a few hours to go before Harry’s plane was supposed to land and there was a knock on your door. Roxy had just left, swearing she would not return, flying out the door with a tight squeeze and kiss on your cheek. 

“Forgot your keys again —?” you say, swinging the door open and absolutely stopping in your tracks. There he was. After two months. Right in front of you. You could cry. You might cry. 

“Thought you were Roxy.”

“‘S it okay that I’m not?”

“Jury’s still out.” you say breathlessly as he snorts. “You’re early.”

“Changed my flight. Couldn’t wait.” he says with a glint in his eye. You quickly scan him, noting the deep tan, the longer strands of curls falling out of his hat, the sweatshirt and joggers combo that makes you want to eat him, the facial hair. Hold on. 

“You’ve got facial hair.” you say, rather stupidly, as he tilts his head back in laughter.

“Yeah I do.”

“Like a proper beard. You’ve never been able to grow facial hair.”

“Times are changing, babe. You gonna let me in anytime soon or keep staring at me?”

“Gonna keep staring for a bit, I think.”

“Get the fuck over here.” he says, practically plowing you over as he wraps his arms tightly around your waist, all but carrying you into the flat as the door closes behind him. You wrap your arms around him, knocking off his hat in the process, and hold on tight. He’s murmuring something into your hair but you’re not paying attention, too overwhelmed by the feeling of his body against yours, his arms holding you close, his new beard scratching against your cheek. 

You stand there, holding so tight, feeling like you’re taking the first real breath you’ve taken in months, a part of you setting into place. You’ve got no idea how long you stand there and don’t care, refusing to let go even for a moment. 

You pull your head back slightly, bringing your hands up to his face, fingers scratching at the beard.

“Not gonna get over this.”

“You like it?”

“Looks good. Really good. You look good.” you say, your hands coming down to rest on his chest, playing with the strings of his hoodie. 

“Yeah?” he says, his eyes scanning down your body. “So do you.”

You lock eyes, staring at each other for a moment, smiles fighting their way onto your faces.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” 

“Missed you.”

“Me too.” he says, nudging his nose against your cheek before planting a kiss there, inhaling deeply. Eyes flicking up to yours before his gaze falls to your lips, he licks his own before leaning in, pressing his lips to yours for the first time in two months.

Yes. 

It’s like coming home, like the first day of spring after a long cold winter, a lemonade on a hot summer day. You practically melt into him, his hands coming up to cup your face as he presses another tender kiss to your mouth. He’s holding you so delicately, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek like you’re made of glass. You’ve never been kissed like this. You grip his sweatshirt, pulling him closer to you, not wanting even a centimeter of space between you. He sighs into your mouth, pressing another sweet kiss against your lips before pulling away, never straying too far as he kisses your jaw, your temple, your hairline before ducking in and placing another soft kiss on your lips.

He pulls back slightly, his arms dropping to wrap around your waist once more, looking down at you with a small smile on his face.

“Missed that.” he says, pressing his lips to yours before dragging them down your jaw, nuzzling into your neck, tightening his grip around you. “Missed you so much, baby.”

“Can’t believe you’re here. In my flat. Kissing me.” you say, as he hums, planting a kiss on your neck before pulling back to look at you, soft eyes grazing over your features as a grin grows on your face. “You’re kissing me in my flat.”

“Planning on doing a whole lot more in this flat if you let me.” he says.

“Yeah, I’m counting on it.” you say, as his grip on your waist tightens. “Just mean like…so much of Italy felt like a fever dream. But you’re here. This is real. It’s… overwhelming.”

“In a good way or a bad way?”

“In the best way.” you say, emotion clogging your throat as you look back at him, the way he’s softly staring back at you. You’d feel silly getting this emotional about something so mundane, but it felt monumental. This wasn’t a special occasion, spur of the moment fling. This was who you’d get to see after a long day of work, who you’d go grocery shopping with, spend your weekends with, clean the bathroom with. He was your person. Even in your wildest teenage fantasies you could never imagine it feeling like this. Like home. Tears spring to your eyes, as he gently brings his thumb up to wipe them away, emotion clouding over his own features. 

“I just - I got so excited at the idea of doing laundry with you. Like the mundane, everyday, kissing in my flat stuff. Running errands, doing chores...”

“Just wait until we load the dishwasher together,” he says, kissing your cheek. “Get the groceries…”

“You’re gonna rile me up.” you say as he huffs a laugh against your skin, before pulling back to look at you, his own eyes glassy, lips quirking up in a small smile. 

“I’m so ready for it. All of it. I’ve never…” he says, taking a deep breath, glimmering eyes never straying from your face. “Never been more ready for anything in my life, I don’t think. Life with you, ‘s the dream.” 

You stand there, letting his words wash over you, warmth flowing through you in waves as you bite your lip and try in vain to blink back tears, not sure you could ever find the words to articulate how you feel right now. You open your mouth and promptly close it, not even sure where to begin.

“Got y’ speechless, have I?” he asks with a soft smile.

You shake your head, trying in vain to bite down your smile, before leaning up and kissing him, hoping every drag of your lips can begin to express what words are failing to. He hums into the kiss as you slide your hands into his hair, bringing one arm up to wrap around your upper back, holding you as close as possible. 

He kisses you slowly, gently, the exact way you want to be kissed, his tongue sweeping over yours in smooth passes. You sigh into his mouth as his hold tightens and you’re content to stay there forever, wrapped up in his arms, being taken apart with every soft drag of his lips. 

“For me too.” you frantically mumble in between kisses, hands grasping tighter. “It’s –”

“I know, baby. I know.” he says, his hand coming up to settle around the back of your neck, tightening his grip as he pulls you in. “Come here.” 

Time passes but you’re not aware of it, too caught up in the feel of his body against yours, the grip of his hands, the curl of his tongue. He eventually pulls away with a gentle suck to your bottom lip, kissing a line across your jaw before burying his head into your neck.

You stand there, breathing each other in, holding on to each other, your brain trying to process the fact that the person you always dreamed would be yours is, in fact, yours. And wants you back just as much. It makes you tighten your hold, your breath catching in your throat as his hand starts to rub soothing circles on your back, instinctively knowing what you need without you ever saying it.

“How was your flight?” you mumble against his shoulder. He huffs a laugh against your skin, pressing a kiss on your jaw before pulling back, his hands sliding down your back to hold your waist.

“Was fine. Long. Just wanted to get here.” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Left all my stuff in the car. Just needed to see you.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Thought you might,” he says, kissing your temple, his thumbs drawing small circles on your hips. 

“Probably should have our big chat about our feelings, yeah? Talk about our time apart…how we’ve grown as individuals…” you say as he hums against your skin. “You could sing me those songs you wrote about me…”

“Yeah that’s not happening.” he says, snorting out a laugh, grazing his finger against your cheek, his tone softening when he says: “Not yet.”

The look on his face makes your heart flutter, his whispered words combined with that smile of his making you weak at the knees. You could get lost in his eyes if you stand here too long but you have a mission. You were meant to be responsible.

“Talking.” you say and he smirks at you, amused by your absolute lack of eloquence. “We- we should talk.

“Right. Let’s talk, baby. Wanna hear what you’ve been up to.” he says, his eyes roaming over your body.  “Because once I get you in bed, I’m not planning on letting you out of it.”

“Is that a promise?” you ask, your pulse skyrocketing as he licks his lips, eyes darkening as he nods, his grip on your waist tightening, making your brain go a bit hazy before you snap yourself out of it. “Responsible. We’re going to be responsible. I got snacks.”

You take a step away from him and try to turn towards your kitchen and out of his hold, though he doesn’t let you get very far, his arm winding over your shoulder and across your chest to pull you back against him. 

“Harry. Snacks.”

“Wherever you go, I go, baby.” he says as you snort. You can feel his laughter on your neck as he plants a kiss on your jaw, his thumb rubbing along your shoulder before you start to move.

“Fancy a cuppa?” you ask, making your way over to the kitchen counter, doing your best to gather supplies with this oaf attached to your back. 

“Please.”

“I went to that bakery you like and got those rank profiteroles you love.” you say, relaxing back into him. “The woman behind the counter was like ‘oh no one ever orders these, the owners will be so pleased and i was like ‘yeah, well my boyfriend’s obsessed with them -”

You immediately freeze. It’s the first time you’ve ever said it out loud, ever called him that, and by the way he stiffens against your back, barely breathing, you know he knows. 

“Your who?” he whispers against your neck.

“You heard me.” you say quietly, hoping the low volume will hide the waver in your voice. 

“Yeah, but I want to hear y’ say it again.” he says, hooking his chin over your shoulder, squeezing your arm, you can hear the grin in his voice. “Who is obsessed with them?”

“Are you 12?”

“Baby.” he says, planting a kiss behind your ear. “Please. What did y’ call me?”

“My boyfriend.” you say softly. “I called you my boyfriend –”

He spins you in his hold, bringing his hands up to cup your face as he kisses you so thoroughly it makes your head spin. His tongue glides over yours smoothly as his thumb softly strokes your face. A man of multitudes. He pulls back slowly, planting one more chaste kiss to your mouth, his hands not leaving your face. 

“Is that – “ you say, still trying to catch your breath. “Is that okay?”

His brow furrows in disbelief, not letting you move out of his grip. “Just told you a minute ago I wanna do life with you.”

“I know, but this is putting an official label on it. Which feels different. It feels right but it’s, like, official. For real..” 

“Are y’ asking me to go steady with you?”

“Oh my god I don’t know why I even bother –”

“Hey, heeey. None of that.” he says with a laugh, pinning you to the counter with his hips while his lips kiss a pattern across your face before he gently bites at your cheek and pulls away. 

He just looks at you, that soft, just for you smile on his face as he takes a deep breath, looking like he’s about to burst with the love radiating off of him. It’s contagious, making a wide grin spread on your face as you feel like you’re buzzing from the inside out. 

“Let’s make it official, baby. ‘M your boyfriend. And you’re my girlfriend. And we’re…” he says, taking a deep breath, a small blink-and-you’ll-miss-it blush growing across his cheeks. “And we’re in a relationship. ” 

You’re suddenly 15 again trying to slow your galloping heart rate any time Harry hugs you hello, you’re 18 trying not to stare too hard at your best mate’s bare chest as he does a cannonball into the ocean, you’re 22 trying to steady the shake in your hands as you cut his ponytail because he insisted you be the one to chop it, you’re 25 going on 26, in your kitchen, with your best mate who’s now your boyfriend. A fantasy you used to write about in your journal, used to cry yourself to sleep over. 

If you could grin any wider, your face would split in half, heat rushing to your cheeks as you look up at him. The two of you standing there, big smiles on your faces, looking at each other in joy, in awe. It feels a bit juvenile to be getting so worked up over a label but you can’t help it. It’s different with him. Everything’s different with him. 

Your face crumples slightly, overwhelmed by the love flowing through you, the love you’ve always felt for the man looking back at you. 

“I know, I know.” he mutters, pulling you closer. “Long time coming, huh?”

“You could say that,” you whisper back as he wraps his arms around you, planting a kiss on your temple. 

“Thank you for waiting for me to catch up.” he whispers, smiling down at you as butterflies erupt in your stomach, your heart feeling on the cusp of bursting. 

You gently wind your arms around his neck, pushing your hand up into his hair as he closes his eyes briefly at the feeling of your nails against his scalp. He opens his eyes, those green irises focusing right on you, looking at you like you’re the only person on the planet, his expression so sincere it all but bowls you over. 

“Would’ve waited my whole life for you, I think.” 

You can see the words hit him as his eyes go glassy, blinking a few times while looking back at you. He lets out a sheepish laugh when you bring a hand up to gently wipe away the tears pooling in his eyes, biting his lip as he grins at you before planting a kiss on your palm. His index finger brushes down the side of your face gently as he looks at you in awe, in wonder and you feel like you’re on fire.

You’re not sure who closes the gap first but you know it doesn’t matter, clutching each other so tight that you feel his groan before you hear it as you swipe your tongue over his. He kisses you deeply, reverently, his tongue licking into your mouth in languid, all encompassing passes that make you feel like you’re going to explode. He pulls away slowly, kisses trailing down your neck as he takes his time licking and biting at the skin there.

“Do you -” you gasp out, sparks flying through you with each drag of his lips. “Would it be alright if we -”

“Being so polite. You trying ask me to tea or ask me to take y’ to bed?” he mumbles, mouth not straying far from its spot on your neck, laughing against your skin when you smack him. 

“You know,” you say with a huff of frustration, “I’m usually quite good at this but but you’ve got me flustered -”

“Promise y’ you’re still good,” he mumbles, kissing his way across your throat and taking his time on the other side, letting out a deep breath. “So good.”

“I just - I know I said we should talk but I -” you breathe out, the mindless patterns of his hands against your sides making it impossible to finish a sentence. The way he’s dragging his hands  up and down, giving you an occasional squeeze. Those big hands. Jesus. “I want -”

“What do y’ want? Need you to tell me.”

“Want you.” you say as he bites down on your neck, hands squeezing you tight.  

He groans, leaning his head against your collarbone, his palms clutching your hips.

“Do y’ have any idea what y’ do to me -” he grunts out. “Calling me up to say you’re needy, that you’ve dreamt of –”

He cuts himself off as he leans up, his lips claiming yours. This kiss is not like the others, it's deep from the start, as he licks into your mouth with a groan. His hands can’t seem to find a place to settle, roaming from your hips, your sides, your breasts, your arse. His breaths are ragged as he bites your lower lip before diving in for more, nothing gentle or sweet about the way he’s making you moan into his mouth, each drag of his tongue driving you mad. 

“Bedroom,” he says, wrenching his mouth away from yours. “Let’s – bedroom. Unless you want your boyfriend to fuck you on the counter.” 

You choke on air, your nails digging into the muscles on his shoulders.

“Need you horizontal c’mon baby -” he mutters, already pulling you back from the counter as you grab his hand and take off down the hallway towards your bedroom, faltering only slightly when you look back to see him lacing your hands together and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

You both practically trip over yourselves in eagerness once your door is closed, laughing into each other’s mouths. His hands fall to your waist, sliding up your skin as he pulls your shirt up and over your head, mouths disconnecting before crashing together again. He kisses his way down your neck, making quick work of your bra as he kisses across your chest, mouth wrapping around your nipple as his hands slide further down, pausing at the waistband of your jeans. He pulls his head back to look at you, leaning in to kiss you softly. 

“Can I?” he mumbles against your lips, kissing you when you nod, hands slipping on your skin. “Sorry, my palms are sweaty.”

“Mine too,” you whisper as you both laugh sheepishly.

“We’ve done this bit before.”

“Yeah, but it still feels new. It always …everything feels new with you.”

He nods once, marveling at you for a second before pressing his lips to yours, sweet in contrast with the way his hand keeps inching closer to where you need him most. You fist his sweatshirt, pulling at it in frustration. 

“Can we get this off please?” you huff, trying in vain to start to push it up when he simply won’t budge. 

“Patience is a virtue, darling” he says, taking his sweet time unbuttoning your jeans as he kisses along your jaw, heat spreading through every ounce of your body and you want to kill him. 

“Yeah but I’m practically naked while you’re fully dressed.”

“Cause I got my priorities straight,” he says, hands finally sliding past your waistband into your underwear, biting down on your lip when you gasp at his fingers pushing past your folds, feeling the wetness there. “Fuck, baby. Did I get y’ this wet?”

He kisses you before you can respond, licking hotly into your mouth as he pulls his hand away, shushing you when you whine. He uses both hands to pull your jeans and underwear off, helping you balance when you kick them to the ground. 

“On the bed,” he mumbles, “need y’ on the bed.” 

He walks you backwards until your legs hit the mattress and you lie back, pushing yourself up with your arms until you’re in the middle of the bed, propped up on your elbows, eyes never leaving his. 

His eyes roam all over your body, jaw set as his intent gaze sweeps over you, making every inch of you feel like it’s burning up from the inside out. He reaches behind his head to pull his sweatshirt and t-shirt up and over in one fell swoop, throwing them to the ground before clamoring onto the bed as he kneels between your legs, jogger-clad thighs nudging yours further apart. 

You barely have time to take in the expanse of skin before he’s ducking down to kiss you again, getting temporarily lost in the mind-numbing drag of his lips, the soft moans he lets out when you push your hand up into his hair and tug it every so often.

He pulls away slowly, eyes sweeping up and down your body as he puffs out a big breath and shakes his head. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, pressing one more kiss to your lips before slowly making his way down your body, his tongue against your skin mixed with the deep timbre of his voice making you grip the bed sheets tighter, your breath coming in shorter bursts, hand falling away from his head as he makes his way down to your core. 

“So sexy,” he mumbles, tongue sweeping along your stomach before he pauses to suck a mark into the skin. “All mine.”

A soft moan leaves your lips, his words and mouth against your skin proving to be a deadly combination, as arousal pools between your thighs. You shift on the sheets, deep desire flowing into restless anticipation.

“I know, baby, I know.” he says, kissing a line along your thigh, inching ever so close. “Gonna give y’ what y’ need.”

Your brain barely has time to catch up before his mouth is on you, humming as he licks a stripe up your slit, the sensation making you gasp. His hands slide up your legs to hold your hips down as he sucks your clit into his mouth, your eyes roll into the back of your head as heat sears through you. 

He’s good at this and he knows it, eyes never wavering from your face as he watches the way you react to his tongue, moaning into you when your hand slides into his hair. You look down at him and almost come on the spot, the way his back muscles strain as he expertly moves his head, the image of him headfirst into you with his joggers still on doing something to you that you could never explain. Like he was so eager to get his mouth on you he didn’t stop to pull his sweats off. Fuck. 

“Dreamt of this.” he mumbles, kissing a line up your stomach, your arousal already evident in that new 'stache of his. “Dreamt of you.”

“H-” you can’t do anything beyond moaning his name at this point, already gone past the point of coherence, using your hand in his hair to guide his head back down.

“Alright, needy girl, ‘m going” he says, kissing his way back down before biting down on the skin of your thigh, groaning out: “love you like this.”

He dives in tongue first, licking his way down to your entrance before dragging his tongue up to your clit, sucking it into his mouth in steady pulls. He’s getting sloppy with it, the feeling of his beard against your skin making you pull at his hair, while he kisses, licks and sucks. You’re so wet you can hear it, it would embarrass you if not for the way he clearly loves it, his eyes closed tight with his brow furrowed in concentration, nose nudging against your center as his tongue curls over you, grunting and groaning into you in a way that has you seeing stars. 

“Want you to come like this. Want it in my mouth.” he mumbles, hooded eyes opening to look at you, take you in. “Can y’ do that for me?”

“Fuck - please I -” you’re cut off by your own moan, as he gets his mouth back on you. His hands on your hips no longer hold you down but encourage you to buck up into him. It’s overwhelming, heat searing through you and you can’t keep your eyes open, feeling yourself hurdle towards your orgasm with every slurp, lick, and suck. His grip tightens, nails making crescent marks into your skin as he latches onto your clit once more and sucks, hard. 

And that’s it, your eyes roll back in your head as you come, so intense that you can’t hear the praise he’s mumbling, can feel nothing but endless heat, pleasure rolling through you, hand gripping his hair so tight as his mouth works you through your orgasm, only pulling away when you whimper from the overstimulation.

He plants one kiss against your core before kissing his way up your body, self-satisfied smirk on his face when his head hovers over yours, evidence of how hard you just came present in his beard. You look up at him, panting, sentences still jumbling in your brain as he settles next to you, laying a possessive hand on your stomach, thumb drawing mindless patterns on your skin. 

“That good, huh?”

“Like you didn’t know.” you breathe out,  thumb coming up to wipe his bottom lip, heat swirling through you when he grabs your wrist and sucks your thumb into his mouth, never once breaking eye contact.

“Christ.” 

He hums, releasing your thumb with a pop before leaning in to kiss you, both of you moaning when your tongue swipes over his. Your hand drags down his chest, damp with sweat from the exertion of his efforts, and falls to the waistband of his joggers.

“I can’t believe you still have these on.” you say snapping the waistband against his abs as he moves to pull them off.

“Had you naked on your bed, time was of the essence,” he says, as you snort, watching as he successfully pulls his joggers and briefs all the way off and throws them on the ground, his hard cock slapping against his belly. Did he get that hard just from getting you off?

“Took your shirt off, though.” you say, voice wavering at how affected you are at the sight in front of you. This gorgeous man in all his naked glory. 

“Yeah, well, I know how you feel about my arms. Wanted to give you a proper show.” he says with a shrug, hand sliding up your neck to grip at the nape, pulling you in for a deep kiss. 

Your hand slides further down his abs, wrapping around him as he moans into your mouth. You pull away from him slowly, making full eye contact as you lick your palm, his eyes widening at the sight, before wrapping around him again. He moans, his grip on you tightening as he bites at your jaw. 

“Got this hard from eating me out?”

“Y’ have no idea what you look like.” he says, pulling back to look at you, eyes roaming all over your face. “What you taste like.”

He captures your lips once more, breaths more ragged than before the more you play with him, your thumb swiping over the head as he bites your lip.

“Gotta stop -” he pants out. “Unless you don’t want -”

“No, I do.” you say, letting go of his cock in favor of straddling him. He sits up, trying to get close to your mouth but you shake your head and push him back down. He goes easily, eyes flickering all over your body, unable to settle on just one spot before looking back into your eyes, his own pupils blown wide. 

“What’ve y’ got planned, love?”

“Wanna ride you.” you say, your hands staying planted on his chest. 

“Fuck - yes please.” he groans, hands coming to rest on your thighs. “You have stuff?”

You falter. You do, you know exactly where it is but that’s not what you want tonight. You curse yourself, knowing you should’ve brought this up earlier, and not when you’re straddling him on your bed. The hesitation must be written on your face because he sits up quickly -  damn those ab muscles - his hand coming up to cup your face, thumb rubbing on your cheek. 

“What’s up? Do you not have any? Need me to pop to the -”

You shake your head. “Uh - no. I have stuff. I just - sorry I should have brought this up before -”

“‘S okay.” he says gently, patiently, as if you both can’t feel how hard he is against your thighs. 

“I just - I got tested and I’m clean,” you say, his eyebrows shooting up before he schools his expression into something more neutral, though the sudden clamminess of his palm against your face gives him away. “And I’m on the pill. I have condoms and totally understand if that makes you more comfortable but I want this, with you. I want to feel –”

“Me too.” he says gruffly, a mix of emotions passing over his face as he stares back at you, so intently it makes your head spin. “I got tested a few weeks ago and I’m also clean - if you want that -”

“I do.”

He crushes his lips against yours, kissing you deeply as you clutch at his shoulders, giving it back just as good. His tongue passes over yours as he tightens his hold on your face, his other arm coming to wrap around your waist. You lose track of how long you stay there, kissing each other until your lips go numb, but he pulls back slowly, emotion clouding over his eyes as he looks at you, taking a few moments just to stare before he clears his throat.

“I know my reputation precedes me with this sort of thing-” 

“That doesn’t matter to me.” you say, the look on his face making your heart clench. “At all.”

“I know I just - I want you to know that I don’t take this lightly. You trusting me like this. Me trusting you the same.” he says, with a shake of his head, looking at you with glassy eyes. “It’s - I haven’t done this very often and to get to do it with you is…”

“Yeah. For me, too.” you whisper, emotion caught in your throat, as the two of you just look at each other, biting down smiles.

You lean in to kiss him slowly, hands sliding up into his hair as he sighs into your mouth.

“I love you.” you say softly, the words almost getting caught in your throat as you look at him, hold him tight. 

“Oh, angel.” he breathes out. “I love you too.”

You lean in at the same time, soft kisses slowly devolving into pure heat, tongues curling as you moan into each other’s mouths. 

“Wanna make you feel good.” you mumble against his mouth.

“Yeah?” he says, kissing you once before kissing a line down your jaw. “Gonna take care of me?”

You nod, leaning in to slowly kiss at his neck as his hand slides down your body and rests on your thigh, squeezing once. You reach down to stroke him slowly as he groans, your tongue darting out to suck at the skin, leaving a mark in its wake. 

You bring a hand down to balance on his shoulder as you line him up with your center, and slowly start to sink down, both of you moaning almost instantly at the sensation.

“Slow - baby, slow” he grits out, hands sliding up to your hips to hold on, to ease you down. Once you're fully seated, his hands come up to rub your back, his jaw set as he exhales through his nose, his eyes fluttering closed as he tries to maintain eye contact. “Shit.”

“Okay?” you whisper, not doing much better yourself, being able to feel all of him like this makes your mouth hang open, sparks of arousal shooting up your spine. 

“Yeah,” he mutters, huffing out a laugh. “Feel so good.”

He brings one hand around to massage at your breast as the other slides down to knead your ass as he leans in to kiss you deeply, both groaning when your tongues meet. You slowly lift up and back down, a sharp grunt leaving his chest as you start to find your rhythm, his hands gripping tightly at your hips. You find your pace slowly, the look on his face guiding every twist, turn and bounce of your hips. 

He’s usually talkative during sex, a never ending stream of praise falling from his lips but you seem to have stunned him into silence as he sits there, grasping you tightly, mouth never moving far from yours. For a while, the only noise in the room is the sound of skin slapping against skin, your moans, grunts and groans mixing together as you find a delicious rhythm that has left you both speechless, panting against each other's mouths.

You lose all sense of time, getting lost in the look on his face, the way he swallows harshly, his breath coming out shallow when you swivel your hips just so. It’s sweltering, it’s heady, overwhelming. The two of you losing yourselves to the pleasure as you ride him into the mattress, his hooded eyes watching your every move.

“‘S like a dream.” he mumbles against your lips. “Jesus.”

He kisses at your neck, the sensation making you clench around him, as he groans and bites down. Your hand slips on his sweaty chest, overwhelmed at the sight of him, jaw set, teeth gritted, eyes wild. He looks wrecked in a way you’ve never seen him, eyes squeezing shut and a deep exhale leaving his lips at a particularly tight swivel of your hips. Knowing you did that, that you’re making him feel this way, causes a fire in your belly unlike you’ve ever experienced before. You place your hand on his cheek and he opens his eyes to look at you, the look of pure ecstasy making you moan his name as you lean in to kiss him, gasping into his mouth when his grip on your hips tightens and he plants his feet, starting to thrust up into you.

Your rhythm falters, having lost any sense of control as he takes over, each drive of his hips hitting you just right. His face now steeled in determination, brow furrowed as he expertly guides his hips into yours, the bliss from before replaced by desperate need.

“Fucking me so good, baby.” he mumbles. “Couldn’t do anything but sit here and take it - y’ feel so -.”

“H-”

“Does it feel good?” he grunts, “Fucking yourself on my cock?”

“‘M close I -” you gasp out, nails digging into his scalp at a particularly hard thrust.

“Need to feel you come around me.” he mumbles, kissing along your collarbone. “What’s gonna get y’ there?”

“Want you on top.” you say, your legs all but turned to jelly as you try to keep up with his relenting pace. 

“Give y’ anything.” he groans, “Anything y’ need. Hold on.”

He slows down his hips, holding you in place on top of him as you wrap your arms around his neck. He slides his arms up your back, warm palm sliding up to grip the back of your neck as he holds you tightly to him, leaning forward to lay you back on the mattress, never once disconnecting himself from you. He hovers over you, both groaning at the new angle. He slides his other hand down your body, grabbing the outer edge of your thigh to wrap around his hip as you bring your other leg up to do the same. 

He leans in to kiss you deeply, grip tightening on the back of your neck as he starts to slowly grind his hips. You gasp into his mouth as you drag your nails down his back, his grinds turning into slow, deep thrusts that have both of you moaning.

“Y’ so wet,” he groans out. “Can feel all of it. All for me. Christ -”

His pace picks up, thrusting so hard you can hear the bed frame against the wall at the other end. Your hand falls to the bed, grasping at the bedsheets as he keeps driving his hips into yours, mumbling incoherently against your cheek, the feeling of his abs sliding against your skin sending sparks through you. You can see how hard he’s working, arms and thighs bulging as he works to give it to you as good as he can. 

He squeezes your neck once, before sliding his hand over to where yours is gripping the sheets, lacing your fingers together and holding tight and you just about lose your mind. 

“Y’ close? Squeezing me like y’ close.” 

“Harry -”

“Love when you say my name like that.” he mumbles and you do it again just to see the look on his face. You slide your hand not holding his down your body to flick at your clit, watching his eyes go impossibly darker as you clench down on him.

“That’s it. Be my good girl and go after it.” he grunts, thrusting even harder than before. “Want y’ to soak me.”

It only takes a few more tight circles from your fingers and one perfectly timed thrust and then you’re coming, stars in your eyes as you shake with aftershocks, clenching down so hard his rhythm falters, a series of expletives falling from his lips. 

“So good. That’s it. Y’ gonna make me come - fuck”

“Please - want you to.” you say, trying in vain to catch your breath as you clench down on him once more, overstimulation be damned. “Come inside me.”

“Jesus - fuck”  he grunts out, brows furrowed, eyes focused on you, hips driving into yours once, twice, and then that’s it, a guttural groan punches out of him as strings of his come paint your walls, the sensation making you squeeze his hand tightly as he shakes through it, a look of utter bliss on his face. 

He buries his head into your neck, panting heavily. You slowly lower your legs down to the mattress, sliding your hand out from in between your bodies and threading it through his sweaty hair, scratching at his scalp as your heart rates start to slow down and sync up.

You lay there for a few moments, just breathing each other in. He grunts wordlessly into your neck, the sound making you laugh, feeling of your bodies shaking against each other setting the two of you off. 

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, kissing your neck as he squeezes your hand once before pulling away, planting his hands on the bed to pull out, murmuring apologies into your skin when you hiss at the feeling before plopping on the bed next to you. 

You turn your head to face him as he props himself up on his elbow, an indescribable glow on his features as he smiles softly at you, his arm splaying across you to wrap around your waist. 

“It’s a good look on you.”

“What?” 

“Satisfaction.” you say with a grin. He honks out a laugh, pulling you closer to him to kiss your face. 

“Ah, a bit cheeky after riding my brains out, are ya?” he asks, kissing a line down your neck. “After fucking me bare?”

“That’s me. Cheeky and full of your cum.” you say, giggling when he tightens his grip on your waist, his breath leaving him in one big exhale. 

“Can’t say shit like that, baby.” he mutters against your neck, tongue darting out to lick at the skin. “Gonna turn me into a bloody neanderthal. C’mere.”

He slides his hand up your body to grip at your jaw, pulling you towards him as he captures your lips with his, letting out a soft moan into your mouth when your tongue passes over his. 

“You’re unreal.” he murmurs against your mouth. “So good to me.”

He kisses you again, somehow deeper this time as you sigh into his mouth, his hand gripping you tighter as you slide your hand across his chest. He pulls away slowly, kissing your cheek and temple before leaning back to look at you, soft smile on his face as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face. 

“And it was good for you, yeah?”

“Think you could feel that it was.”

“I could, yeah. Came pretty hard, didn’t you?” he says with a smirk. “Soaked me.”

“What was that you were saying earlier? About being a neanderthal?”

“Ah, so she can dish it out but can’t take it.” 

“I can take it!” you scoff in indignation.

“Yeah, you can.” he all but growls, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Oh my god -” you say, trying in vain to suppress the giggles escaping you as he laughs along with you, wrapping his arm around your waist again, nuzzling into your neck as you try to catch your breath before you both crack up again, laughing at nothing and everything, at this feeling of lightness, of love, effervescent joy. 

Your laughter slowly subsides, just the occasional giggle coming out as you smile at each other. He kisses your cheek, your jaw and presses one soft, sweet kiss to your lips before pulling back. You shift your hips a bit, the reality of the no condom situation leaking out of you and you grimace slightly as his eyes track the moment.

“Not exactly comfortable, is it?”

“Can’t say it is, no. Loved it when it happened but now - ”

“Yeah. Hang on a sec.” he smacks a kiss to your forehead before pushing himself up and off the bed and jogging out of the room, you try in vain to tilt your head back to follow his movement but can only go so far. You hear the sounds of the sink turning on and promptly shutting off, his shuffle footsteps re-entering the room as he hops back on the bed next to you, wet washcloth in hand. 

“May I?” he asks, holding up the washcloth.

“Not exactly sexy, is it?”

“Yeah, but I put it there.” he says with a shrug as he crawls between your thighs. “Least I can do is help clean it out.”

“Thank you.” you whisper, affection flowing through you as you prop yourself up on your elbows, planting your feet on the mattress. He presses a kiss to your knee as he starts to clean you up. There's a lot to be said about praising men for doing the bare minimum, how women should have higher standards but this isn’t common practice, something you’ve usually had to do on your own, grabbing a spare t-shirt or something for a quick fix. And this, letting him take care of you like this, makes you feel open and trusting in a way you’re not sure you’ve ever felt. You’re not sure you’ve ever been this cared for, a thought that makes tears spring to your eyes. 

You quickly blink them away though when he looks up at you, you know he sees them, a gentle shake of his head as if to say “it’s nothing”, as if to say “you’re welcome”, as if to say “i’ll always take care of you”. He throws the washcloth into the laundry bin and crawls back up your body to plank over you, leaning down to give you a sweet kiss. You bring your hand up into his hair, kissing him back before pulling away and nudging your nose against his.

“Do you want to shower with me?” you ask.

“Yes please.”

You head to the washroom hand in hand, exchanging lazy kisses in front of the shower as you wait for it to heat up before squeezing in and attempting to be productive. You manage to completely wash your body and get most of your hair when he pulls you against him with a hand on your hip, planting deadly kisses along your neck as his hands roam your body, squeezing your breasts, drawing circles on your belly before sliding down in between your thighs. 

He waits until you’re ready and takes you right there, one hand splaying out across your stomach with the other is pressed against yours on the shower wall, his mouth pressed to your shoulder, hips driving into yours over and over with in a way that has you moaning out so loud you’re sure your neighbors can hear but you don’t care. Content to just lean back and lean into the pleasure until you’re both shaking with orgasms faster than you expected. 

After snogging under the spray long after the hot water has run out, you get dried off and changed, throwing him an old pair of sweats and hoodie of his that you’ve kept all these years as you pass your phone back and forth to order from the local thai place you both love.

Once the food arrives you set up camp on the couch, laughing and reminiscing, though tactfully avoiding any discussion of the past two months, as you share plates, both eating more of what the other ordered than you’d ever admit. Once you’ve had your fill, the empty boxes stacked on the coffee table, you settle back on the couch, he grabs your feet and pulls them into his lap, resting a warm palm on your ankles as you lean back against the pillows.

“I really like this,” he says softly, a light squeeze on your ankle when you smile over at him. “Just like… everything about this day.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Nothing we’re running away from, nothing looming over our heads.” he says as you hum in agreement. “‘S all I could think about getting to these last few weeks and ‘s better than I imagined.”

“I know. Felt like it wasn’t gonna happen some days.”

“Yeah.” he says, looking down in his lap, small frown on his face. “Did it - y’never called me so I assumed but - how were the last few weeks for you? Better or just as shit as the first?”

“Better. Talking to you really helped and then I decided to, you know, actually feel my feelings instead of ignoring them? A novel concept.” you say, as he huffs out a laugh, attentive eyes on you. “Also started talking to my therapist again about, like all the guilt and weirdness from the wedding and my hesitation to be completely open and vulnerable with you, which is a bit of a work in progress.”

“Meant what I said on the phone, you know.” he says, hand sliding up to your calf, thumb moving soothing circles. “When I say I love you, I mean all of you. Nothing’s gonna scare me off or make me feel differently about you.” 

You just look at him for a moment, his eyes full of warm, open affection staring back at you as you nod, biting your lip at the onset of emotions running through you. He squeezes your calf gently.

“Did your boss ever apologize?” he asks, frowning when you shake your head. “Wanker.”

You snort. “It’s alright. She’ll be groveling once the grant comes through. It’s not confirmed but have heard whispers that it’s likely going to us.”

“That’s my girl. Proud of you.”

“Thanks, H.” you say with a soft smile. “What about you? How has it been? Not gonna let you do that thing where you ask me loads of questions and be such a good listener that we never talk about you.”

“Ah, she knows my tricks.”

“Ah, yes she does.” you say as he laughs, looking down at his lap with a smile, thumb rubbing circles on your leg as he takes his time to find the words. 

“It was…a lot. There was loads of bullshit in the first few weeks, meetings where I felt like I was back in the band again, all this talk about my image and how to best preserve it, not a lot about how I was doing or feeling.”

“That’s fucked.”

“Yeah. Didn’t feel good. It got better…once I drew my lines in the sand, established what was necessary for me to know and what wasn’t. Like if Erin’s team goes rogue and tries to talk about you or if anyone who was working the wedding comes forward - they can’t and they won’t.” he says quickly. “They signed some pretty ironclad NDAs.”

“Oh.” you say, not sure how to process that. 

“Yeah. Now y’ know why I almost called you 8 times.” he says, pausing as a deep frown falls over his face. “I know I - last time we saw each other, I was angry and scared and snapped but…there was some truth to what I said. This bullshit never goes away with me. Not entirely. We can get good at tuning it out, but it’s always gonna be there. And I know it’s selfish of me to ask you to subject yourself -”

“Harry-”

“Just let me say this bit.” he says gently, cutting you off. “I know being with me has a price, however big or small you may think it is, it’s there. ‘nd I know you’ve experienced it as my friend but it’s…much different for who I’m dating, no matter how private we are. And I just want you to know that if it ever gets to be too much, I understand. I won’t hold it against you.” 

“This is a legitimate fear of yours? That I’ll leave if the attention gets to be too much?”

“I know you don’t pay attention to any of it - it’s one of the things that makes me feel so lucky with all of this, that you really couldn’t give a shit about that. That you just love me for me. But… it can seep into every aspect of your life and force you to make sacrifices you never planned on making.”

“And I think a part of me is scared that ‘m not worth all that.” he says. “That I won’t be good enough to you or for you to make up for how difficult I may make parts of your life. You deserve privacy and normalcy in a way I can’t provide. At least not all of the time. And I just need you to know that you always have an out.”

You stare at him for a moment, the determined, slightly defeated look in his eyes before you sit up, pulling your legs off his lap and crossing them in front of you on the couch, knees bumping against his thigh. You take his hand, holding it between both of yours.

“And I just need you to know that I’m never going to use it.” you say, rushing to keep talking when he opens his mouth. “I know I don’t know the full extent of what your world can feel like, being involved in it in this new way, but I can say for sure it’s never going to make me want to give you up. Or like, run away when the scrutiny gets too intense. This isn’t conditional, for me. I’d do a lot worse and sacrifice a lot more to get to have you like this. We’re in this together. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to want to.”

He stares at you, blinking rapidly as he takes a deep breath, squeezing your hand.

“Thank you.” he says softly, brow furrowing as his lip twitches, trying to hold his emotions in. “I don’t take that lightly, you know. And you can change your mind at any -”

“I’m not going to. Not about that. Not about you. I don’t want you constantly worrying that if something goes wrong with your public life, I’m gonna go. I won’t. That’s not going to happen. Those are easy sacrifices to make.”

He closes the distance between you before you even realize what’s happening, kissing you deeply as his hand cups your jaw. He gently pulls his other hand from yours, bringing it up to frame your face, thumbs brushing over your cheek when you sigh into his mouth. 

“Thank you.” he mumbles in between kisses. “Don’t know what I did to deserve…”

He shakes his head, eyes darting over your face before pressing his lips to yours once more, humming into the kiss. You just sit there and let yourself be kissed, head reeling from how good this all feels, how right, when he pulls back suddenly. 

“I don’t want it to be just you giving things up or changing things for me.” he says sincerely, eyes not wavering from yours. “Like y’ said, we’re in this together. I want to make sacrifices for you, too. I want to be meeting you in the middle.”

“That’s really good to hear.” you say solemnly, taking a deep breath. “Because the paps surrounding the nonprofit world can be vultures.” 

“Alright,” he says, rolling his eyes as he pinches your cheek before you swat his hand away. “Little jokester are ya?”

“It’s just so refreshing to finally be with someone willing to make those life changes for me.” you say, placing your hand on his shoulder.

Your sincere facade lasts all of two seconds, shrieking as his hands fall to your sides, trying to jab the most ticklish spots he’s learned over the years. 

“The intense scrutiny that comes from being - ah! - with someone who sits at a desk for 8 hours writing proposals—”

“Are y' done?”

“I’ve got about 5 more minutes of material –” 

He honks out a laugh, pulling you across his lap with minimal struggle from you lying you flat on your back on the other end of the couch as he plants his hands on either side of your head.

“Here I am, baring my soul… telling y’ my deepest fears,” he says one hand coming to tickle at your side as you try to dodge him. “And you’re just taking the piss -”

“Oh my god -”

“I’m afraid I’ll never be able to be vulnerable again…” 

“Gonna nominate you for a BAFTA for this performance.”

“I’d like to thank the academy –”

“Alright, pal,” you laugh as you grab his wrist and pull, effectively knocking him off balance and he collapses onto you with a big “oof”, both of you giggling as you try to catch your breath.

“I can’t believe you tickled me.” you say, as he laughs against your neck. 

“Ah, but in a battle of wits against you, darling, I’m guaranteed to lose. I needed backup.” he says, pressing a kiss to your jaw. “All hands on deck.”

You sputter out a laugh at that, warmth rushing through you as you look over at him, the wide grin on his face, the crinkles around his eyes as he laughs with you. It wasn’t even that funny, it was just so stupid, so him, said with such sincerity it makes your heart race. You can’t stop replaying his line delivery as another wave of laughter rolls through you. 

“You are such an idiot.” you laugh, shaking your head at him.

“Yeah, might be.” he says with a shrug, eyes twinkling as he looks at you. “But I think I’d say just about anything to make y’ laugh like that.” 

You can’t stop the smile that grows on your face, his words rendering you speechless, warmth blooming on your cheeks as the laughter all but dies in your throat when you take in the way he’s looking back at you. 

“‘S my favorite sound.” he says, so softly it’s almost to himself as he leans in, eyes locked on your mouth before they drift up, smiling when you lock eyes. You lean up to close the distance between you, running your fingers through his hair as he hums into the kiss, his hand slowly sliding up and down your arm as your lips slide against each other. It’s soft, warm, reverential, this kiss. 

You pull back slowly as his hand comes up to cup your jaw, pulling you back to him, mumbling “‘m not done yet” against your mouth.

He kisses you slowly, his hand a steady presence against your jaw as his lips drag against yours, smiling against your lips with you let out a little sigh, tilting his head to get the angle right. You’re practically melting against the couch, every kiss feeling better than the last.

He pulls away, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth before pulling back to look at you, warm eyes slowly passing over your features. 

“That got ya to stop teasing me, didn’t it?” he says, leaning back in to plant kisses along your cheek. 

“Mm, much more effective than tickling.”

“Mutually beneficial as well.” he says, laughing when you do before pulling back to grin at you. 

You shake your head at him, a mumbled “idiot” leaving your lips though your smile detracts any potential sting of your words. 

“Yours.” he murmurs, kissing you softly. 

He presses a kiss to your cheek before scootching down the couch a little, getting comfortable as he lays his head on your chest, arms wrapping around you as his legs intertwine with yours. Your hand comes up to play with his hair, scratching at his scalp as he hums.

“This couch is kinda small for those long legs of yours.”

“Nah, I like it.” he says, wiggling his hips for emphasis, making you snort. “‘S cozy. ”

“It’s nice, innit?” you say, as he hums, hand squeezing your waist. 

You lay there for a bit, playing with his hair in comfortable silence. It’s so nice, being with him like this, two of you able to just enjoy each other's company, having each other close after all this time. You don’t want to disturb the peace, but curiosity is gnawing at you.  

“Could you tell me more about what you’ve been up to?” you ask softly. “Gonna depress me if I keep thinking about you being stuck in those bloody meetings. Did it ever ease up or am I going to have to beat someone up?”

“Defending my honor, are ya?”

“Always.” 

“My girl.” he says with a grin, before taking a deep breath, squinting off into space as he thinks through his next words. “It definitely got better… especially when Jeff and Sadie took over that side of things, knowing to only contact me if things got bad, which they didn’t. Let me deal with the aftermath of the wedding and breakup like a human ‘nd not a machine.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, was nice to finally realize that I - I can’t be everything to everyone all the time. To, like release that standard I always held myself to felt really good.” he says, the look on his face making your heart clench. “Was able to really think about what I want and who I want to be for the first time in ages.” 

“That's what you deserve, you know.” you say softly. “A life lived for you and not for anyone else. It’s what you’ve always deserved.” 

You can see the emotion pass over his face as he clears his throat, propping himself up on an elbow and leaning back against the couch cushions to get a good look at your face. He takes your hand in his, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss your knuckles. 

“Thanks, baby.” he says, taking a deep breath as he runs his thumb over your knuckles. “Was good to finally have the time to realize that. To start to figure out how to do that… I didn’t have to work at all - I had taken that time off for the wedding and um, honeymoon and haven’t had that much time off in about a decade -  to just like be with myself for any amount of time longer than a couple of hours was a bit of a mindfuck. Lasted about a week before I called Tom up.” he says with a sheepish laugh, leaning into your hand when you run it through his hair. 

“Some things never change.” you say as he hums in agreement, before his brow furrows as he thinks through what he’s going to say next. 

“I just - I spent my time working on myself in a way I’ve never had time to do before. Working on being a better friend, going to therapy to really unpack everything I’ve been through. Was definitely scary and challenging in a way I hadn’t expected, to face the truth of everything and really reflect on the past year I had, all the things I’d been running from. Got more in touch with myself than I have in years and it…” he pauses, looking up at you, eyes flitting over your features as he inhales deeply through his nose. 

“It made me so grateful for the present moment and for the people I have in my life, my relationships with my family ‘nd friends ‘nd…you. Especially you. I really needed that time to get closure on a lot of things. Still a work in progress, like y’ said, but it was a good start. Made it easier to deal with the logistics stuff - like moving out of the place Erin and I had in Kensington.”

“Oh shit. How was that?”

“Was… okay.” he says.  “Erin really wants nothing to do with me right now, which I understand, so it was mostly handled by our assistants, as mad as that sounds. So Joanna really did most of the work and I was able to stay out of it. Was weird but… it never felt like home, that place. None of that really did. Or it did for the beginning but stopped feeling like it far earlier than I was willing to admit.”

“So you haven’t talked with Erin at all?”

“No, not directly, just through our teams and stuff.” he says. “I would’ve loved to have a chat about everything but when she tried to go after you that changed things for me. But… I also know that what I did really hurt her and she doesn’t owe me her forgiveness or anything. I think how we’ve been doing things - just through our teams - is the best way for now.”

“Right. That makes sense”

“How’s all that been for you?” he asks. “I know it was rough for both of us to come to terms with, starting this relationship like that.”

“Yeah it … I don’t know, it’s definitely easier than it was. Think the amount of time that’s passed since that weekend really helped,” you say. “Like the nagging guilt that was there for that first month has mostly faded. Think I’ve gotten better at coming to terms with the fact that what’s done is done and I can’t change the past or rewrite our history. And now it doesn’t feel like a shadow over this, or something holding us back. It feels more like we can just be us. Which just feels… so good and right and ….”

You cut yourself off, nose scrunching as you try to hold your emotions in, his hand squeezing yours in encouragement. 

“Feels like everything I’ve ever wanted.” you say softly, voice cracking with emotion as a wide smile grows across your face. He just looks at you, his own eyes filled with emotion as they graze over your features carefully, reverently. 

“‘M coming over there.”

“Over where?! You are already on top of me -” 

“Not all the way give me a mo -” he says, sliding over you until his head is right above yours, bringing one hand up to cup your face, open emotion on his face. 

“I… I feel so ready to be in this with you ‘nd ‘m so grateful you chose me. Don’t really know what I did to deserve any of it but I … thank you for giving me that time and space and sticking with me through this.”

“H, I was never gonna go anywhere.”

“No, I know I just… Being with you feels different than anything I’ve never experienced before ‘nd I am just…” he cuts himself off, taking a shaky breath before shaking his head, leaning in to kiss you. 

“Bloody in love with you.” he says against your mouth, diving in to capture your lips once more before you can even respond. His thumb brushes along your cheek as he drags his lips against your, kissing you reverently while holding you tight against him. 

He pulls back slowly, his lips kissing a line up your face before resting his forehead against yours and closing his eyes, lightly panting against your mouth.

“Love you, too.” you whisper, the words hardly capturing how this moment feels or how you feel about him. The love flowing through you stronger than you’ve ever felt it before. Heartbeats syncing up as you hold each other close. Finally.

“Alright, your turn.” he says after a while, settling back down with his head on your chest. 

“My turn? H, I already –”

“C’mon love I just talked for ages, ‘m sure you still got some stories for me.”

“Pressure is on, okay…oh !” you say, smiling at the eager look on his face as you start to tell him about a particularly wild night out you had with your mates a few weeks back, that almost ended with Jenna getting a few stitches at the A&E, living for how along for the ride he is, reacting at all the right spots. He’s always been your favorite person to tell stories to; no one listens with quite the same intensity as he does, no pay off feels better than shocking a laugh out of him.

You swap stories from there, him telling you the hijinks that him, Tom and Tyler got up to, his long phone calls he had with his mum, you tell him how you parents cried even when you gave them the bare minimum about what was going on with you two, how Roxy tackled you to the ground when she found out, how Archie threatened him. He starts to launch into a story about a very stoned writing session him and Tyler had and you’re listening, you swear you are…it’s just you hadn’t really slept very well last night and his voice is so soothing, his body so warm, you can feel the vibrations of his voice and you try to stay awake, you do, but you can feel your eye drift shut…  

“Falling asleep on me?” he asks, hand brushing through your hair as you quickly blink your eyes open. 

“No, no I’m not -”

“Baby -”

“‘S just … you’re so warm and your voice is so nice.” your words were slurring a bit but you were too tired to fix it. “Just didn’t sleep a lot last night. Was too excited.”

“To see me?”

“Felt like Christmas.” you mumble, your exhaustion erasing any possible brain to mouth filter. 

“Oh angel,” he says, kissing your forehead as his hands draw up and down your arms. “Want to go to bed?”

“Noo, want to stay right here. Keep talking, I’m listening..”

“Okay,” he says with a chuckle, “Hang on, then.”

He wraps one arm around you and plants the other on the couch, gently flipping the two of you over so you’re laying on his chest as he lays against the pillows. You sigh sleepily, nuzzling your head into his chest. He’s got one arm behind his head and the other brushing up and down your back. “‘S better, isn’t it?”

“Mmmf” you mumble, words failing you at this point, your attempt at being awake slipping through your fingers. 

He kisses your forehead, picking up right where he left off in the story. You think. You could feel yourself start to nod off again, trying to shake yourself out of it but everything felt so comfortable, so right…

When you open your eyes, it’s morning. And you’re in bed. How did you…?

You slowly shift, trying to get more oriented to the day as you squint into the early light, looking over to see him sound asleep, stretched out next to you and - oh. 

Hazy memories of last night fill your head, of him softly telling you to go back to sleep as he carried you - he carried you?! - from the couch to the bed, strong arms looped under your knees and back, holding you tight against his chest as his lips brushed against your hairline. Memories of him whispering “I love you” as he slid next to you in bed, memories of you grunting back at him, his soft laughter against your neck as he pulled you closer.

It makes you flush, warmth flowing through every fiber of your being. You quietly slip out from under the covers, careful not to wake him as you slip out of your room and into the washroom to quickly brush your teeth, heart fluttering as the memories from last night swirl around in your head. You head back to your room and lean against the doorframe for a moment, just watching him. The man you love, the boy you’ve always loved, asleep in your bed. Your boyfriend. Heat rushes to your cheeks as you bite down on the wide smile growing across your face. God, you love him. You really, really love him. 

You pad over to the bed, quickly and quietly pulling off your joggers and tossing them on the floor. You slide a knee up and over the bed until you’re straddling him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“Good morning,” you whisper and he snuffles sleepily, one arm instinctively coming up to wrap around your waist as he grunts. You stretch out so you’re laying on top of him, kissing a line up his neck, his arm sliding up to hold you close as he turns his head into the pillow, eyes still closed. 

“H.” you whisper and he grunts and you laugh against his skin, kissing along his jaw. “Did you carry me to bed last night?”

He peeks one eye open at you, a faint blush blooming on his cheeks that makes your heart skip a beat, his hand coming up to rub his eyes as he shrugs. 

“Yeah. You were dead to the world, love.”

“So you carried me?”

“Should’ve left you out there if I knew you were gonna tease me about it –”

“No no no” you say quickly, grabbing his face in both hands, as he blinks sleepily back at you, thumb brushing over his bottom lip, leaning in as you whisper: “Thank you.” 

You kiss him softly, his hand around your back pulling you impossibly closer as you drag your lips against his. You’re murmuring thank yous, love yous in between kisses, feeling delirious with how much you want him. How much you need him. You rake your hands into his hair as you deepen the kiss, heat searing through you when he groans into your mouth. 

“It's so crazy,” you say when you pull away, relishing the dazed look in his eyes, the way his gaze keeps falling back to your lips. “That you just look like this and it isn’t even the best thing about you.”

“Baby - “

“I’m serious, it's like… I fell in love with your heart and your mind and your stupid sense of humor and how patient you are, how kind,” you say, your fingers running through his hair, heart clenching when he leans into your touch. “And then you had to go and grow up like this with a six pack and these bloody arms and that face - it’s my favorite face. God, you’re maddening.” 

You drag your hands down from his hair to his chest, resting on the muscles there, drawing mindless patterns, stomach twisting when his eyes darken. His hand slides up your back and rests on the back of your neck.

“C’mere.” his voice comes out as deep as gravel, pulling you towards him and kissing you hard. You feel overwhelmed with your love for him, each slide of his lips against yours making you dig your hands into his chest as you slowly rock your hips against his, consumed by need.

“What’s gotten into y’ this morning?” he pants out when you pull away, kissing along his neck down to his shoulders, tongue darting out to taste the skin. 

“Woke up with you in my bed,” you say, lips dragging against his skin, your words reminiscent of his that first morning in Italy. “Looking this good. Driving me mental.”

“Yeah? Tell me.” he rasps out, hand sliding up into your hair as you start to kiss along his tattoos, stopping amongst your favorites to suck a mark into the skin. “Love hearing what I do t’ you.”

“Just keep remembering how it felt to be wrapped up in your arms yesterday,” you say, lips dragging across his skin. “Felt so nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm, but it’s… nothing compared to how it feels when you grab a hold of me with your hands.” you say, “Know it's archaic but something about you getting possessive gets me so hot.”

“Gets you wet, doesn’t it?” he rumbles out, his hands sliding up and down your body, squeezing at all the right places as you gasp against his skin. “‘S cause I like taking hold of what’s mine.”

You can’t help the moan that escapes you at that, rocking your hips down against his, feeling him get hard for you. His hands slide down to grab your ass, smirking at you when you lock eyes and you just want to wreck him.

“And your tattoos…thought they were so stupid at first,” you say, focusing back on the task at hand as he huffs a laugh, his hand sliding up into your hair and pulling as you bite down on a cluster on his arm, tongue smoothing over the skin. “And now…”

“Now?” he says, his breath coming in a bit more ragged, the audible effect you’re having on him making heat surge through you as you look up at him. 

“Wanna get my mouth on all of them.”

A groan punches out of him as he pulls your head back up to his to kiss you deeply. It’s rough and messy from the start, his other hand sliding up your legs to your hips, encouraging their rolls against his. You moan into his mouth as his tongue sweeps over yours. You know you could get lost in this sensation, the way his breath stutters against your mouth when you grind your hips just so, how he pulls a bit harder on your hair when you kiss him deep, the feeling of his big, warm hands on you. But you’re a woman on a mission here. 

You pull back slowly, kissing a line down his jaw, hands drawing mindless circles against his chest, feeling the way it’s warming under your touch, the way his heart is racing. You slide down his body, taking the sheet with you as your lips drag against his chest, taking your time to stop and suck a mark on each tattoo that adorns his chest, stopping when you get to the laurels on his hips, lips dancing against his skin as you wrap your hand around his cock, already halfway hard and waiting for you. 

He inhales deeply the second your hand makes contact, a hissed “fuck” leaving his lips as you slide further down the bed, settling between his thighs, lips dragging from his hips to kiss a line up his cock. You look up at him as you pump your hand, taking in the flush crawling up his neck, the way his chest is heaving, how he bites at his lip, his hooded eyes never leaving your face. 

You kiss the tip, tongue splaying out to take him into your mouth. His head slams back against the pillows, long neck straining as he inhales sharply through his nose. From this angle, you can see your handiwork, the bruises starting to bloom on his skin, proof that you were there. That he’s yours for the taking. The thought makes you moan around his cock as you suck more of him into your mouth, a trail of expletives leaving his mouth at the sensation as his arm falls over his eyes.

You pull off with a louder than intended slurp, keeping your eyes on him as you drag kisses up and down his length. 

“Don’t you want to watch me?” you ask, as your tongue darts out to lick along his vein. A groan punches out of his chest as his arm falls to his side, other hand coming up to slide your hair away from your face and stays there, a steady presence on the back of your head, never pushing down, just holding tight. 

“Fuck, baby” he grunts out. “Look so good -”  

He cuts himself off with a moan as you take him in your mouth again, his blown eyes locking with yours, flitting down to your mouth and back again. You watch him watch you before you have to close your eyes, getting lost in the taste of him, the sounds he’s making, how he feels in your hands, your mouth. Heat sears through you and you can feel how wet you’re getting, just at having him like this, like putty in your hands, every flick of your tongue drawing a new sound out of him. 

You keep one hand on him as you close your eyes, working him further down into your mouth, gagging slightly when he hits the back of your throat, his hand tightening in your hair as he grunts,  tongue flicking along the vein running up the underside of his cock, other hand falling to gently cup his balls.

“Oh shit - angel, just like that -”

You open your eyes, blinking away the tears, taking him into the back of your throat again just to watch the way his face crumples, flush spreading across his cheeks as he looks back at you, eyes the darkest you’ve ever seen them, chest heaving. 

You pull off again, tongue flicking up and down his cock as you catch your breath, continuing to pump him as his head falls back to the pillow, mouth open as he pants for air. 

“Can y’ get back on me, love? ‘M so close - gonna - yes.” he moans when you take him down once more, sucking hard and pumping your hand once and that’s all it takes for him to shoot off into your mouth, lips tightening as you swallow it down, feeling his eyes on you as you close your eyes and give one final suck, pulling off slowly. 

You sit back on your heels, licking your lips before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You hear a soft groan and look up to see his eyes peeking at you from where he had thrown his arm over his head, his chest moving rapidly up and down as he tried to catch his breath. He looks wrecked, something that fills you with pride even as you absolutely ache for him. You shift a bit, able to feel yourself dripping through your underwear as you rub your hands up and down his legs.

“Y’ got me good. Fuck.” he says, making you snort. His arm falls to his side, eyes taking you in fully as he slowly gathers his bearings. “Where did that come from?”

You shrug, squeezing his thigh. “Missed you. Was a long two months”

“Gonna have me leaving more often if that’s how you welcome me home.” 

“Noooo,” you say, crawling your way back up his body and planking over him, his dark eyes gazing up at you, the flush on his cheeks not yet faded. You did that.  His hand comes up to brush your hair away from your face, his thumb dragging down your cheek. “Please don’t.”

“Not going anywhere, not gonna leave you again,” he says, muttering utter nonsense as he wraps his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you down for a kiss, “C’mere.”

It’s rough and wet from the start, his tongue swiping over yours, moaning the second he can taste himself on your tongue. 

“Fuck you’re so fit,” he says, pulling back to kiss any part of your face he could touch as he sits up, wrapping an arm around your waist to help you sit in his lap. He grabs the hem of your shirt, shaking it in frustration, “Get this off.”

You reach down and pull your shirt off, his eyes immediately falling to your chest, hands sliding up your back as he kisses down your chest, one hand squeezing your breast while he sucks your other nipple into his mouth, biting down lightly when you moan. He switches sides, each drag of his tongue hurtling you towards the edge. You’ve been on fire since you first put your mouth on him, feeling closer to your high than ever. 

“These too.” he says, hand sliding down to snap the waistband of your underwear, helping you lean back to pull them off, settling you back on his lap once they’re gone. 

“Said you liked my tattoos, yeah?” he says, kissing a line down your neck, sucking at the skin as you nod. He pulls back to look at your face, leaning in to kiss you before biting your lip and pulling away, hands squeezing your arse. “Sit on my tiger, love.”

He shifts you onto his thigh, flexing the muscle, both of you moaning when you’re seated. You are soaked, moreso than you thought, and the feeling of his hairy thigh right against your dripping core sends heat down your spine. His hands fall to your hips, encouraging you to roll against him.

“Tha’s it. Ride my thigh, baby.” he says, one hand sliding down to grip at your ass as his lips fall to your neck. “Did y’ like having me in your mouth? Looked like y’ did…feels like y’ did.”

“H, I -” you gasped out, hands digging into his shoulders as you found your rhythm, each drag of your hips sending you closer to the edge. “‘M so wet -”

“Know y’ are, can feel it -” he groans, “Gonna make a mess on me?”

“Fucking - shit.” you moan, one hand sliding up into his hair and pulling at the strands as you grind down hard, stomach twisting as a wave of pleasure rolls through you. 

“Feels good, yeah?” he mumbles against your skin, biting down when you gasp. “Y’ can push down a little harder, love - yeah tha’s it, baby. Go after it for me.”

Your mind is hazy, the movement of your hips getting sloppy as you get closer to the edge. You pulled his head up to yours, kissing him deeply, moaning into his mouth when both of his hands slid down to grip your bum, heat flowing through every part of your body as you pant against his lips. 

“I’m close - I-”

“C’mon angel, come for me. Soak that tiger -”

“Fuck -” you moan, hands pulling on his hair as you come, feeling him groan against you as you rode out your high. You slump into him once you’re done, breathing heavily onto his neck. He shifts you so you’re sat fully in his lap, hands sliding up your back, rubbing soothing patterns as he kisses along your hairline, mumbling praise into your hair. 

He kisses down the side of your face and you pull back to stare at him, both of you smiling when you lock eyes. He holds your chin in between his pointer finger and thumb, pulling you into him as he kisses you. You wrap your arms around his neck as he pulls kiss after kiss from you, the two of you getting lost in each other as you come back down to earth. 

You pull back slowly, his lips drifting to your cheek, your temple, your nose, as he pulls his head back to look at you, soft smile on his face, light sheen of sweat on his forehead. 

“Love you,” you whisper.

“Love you so much,” he says, planting a kiss to the corner of your mouth, to your cheek before pulling away, emotion clouding over his face.

“Y’ missed a spot,” he says softly, eyes widening when you thumb at the corner of your mouth. “No - Jesus - i didn’t mean -” 

He cuts himself off with a shake of his head, looking down at his lap before looking back at you, his expression almost unreadable. He seems nervous, though you’ve got no clue why. You slide a hand up into his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp while he gathers his thoughts.

“Meant with the um, tattoos.” he says, rubbing at his nose with his knuckle as he clears his throat. “Y’ missed one.”

“Pretty sure I got all of them.”

“Nah,” he says with a light shake of his head. “Got a new one.”

“What?!” you say, mouth dropping in shock, both hands immediately grabbing his arm, poring over the countless tattoos to see how you missed one. “Where? Oh shit - am I like, sat on it?”

“Nooo,” he says, laughter punching through his words, though his eyes remain focused on you, soft and full of love, you’re so busy trying to find the new tattoo you’re barely paying attention. “Other arm, love.”

“You barely have any on that arm - how did I miss it?” you say, already grabbing for that other arm, looking up at him when he doesn’t move it towards you.

“‘M mean, it’s quite small and a bit hidden -”

“Oh my god,” you say, swatting at his chest, “Let me see it!” 

He slowly lifts his arm up and there, right on his inner bicep, is his new tattoo.

It’s like all the air got sucked out of the room, your eyes hardly believing what they’re seeing, your heart skipping a beat. It’s a single letter, just your first initial like the ones he has for his mum and sister but this one is different…the font is different. It’s - oh. 

It’s in your handwriting. 

“Know it’s not much -” he starts to say before you blindly cover his mouth with your hand, refusing to take your eyes off the tattoo for one second. He huffs a laugh against your palm, pressing a kiss to it and keeping his mouth shut. His eyes are burning holes in the side of your face but you can’t look away from his arm. From your initial on his arm. A permanent tattoo of your initial on his arm.

There’s no redness, no raised skin, so he must have had it for a while, a thought that sends butterflies through your stomach. 

“When did you get this?” 

“‘Bout a month ago. Two hours after you called me, give or take.” he says, and you look over at him, the open affection on his face knocking the wind out of you, tears pricking your eyes. 

“Is that -” you say, swallowing heavily against the wave of emotion flowing through you, “That’s my handwriting, yeah?”

He nods. “From a birthday card y’ wrote me ages ago. Always loved how you signed your name.”

You just look at him and back at his arm, biting down on your lip. It’s not to say that any of this felt temporary, you had no doubts you were both in this for the long haul, there is just something about the permanence of a tattoo for you on his skin that is making your head whirl in the best possible way.

“D’ you like it?” he asks quietly and you pull your eyes away to face him once again, his thumb coming up to brush away the tears that start to fall from your eyes. “Are y’ crying because it’s ugly and y’ hate it?”

You shake your head, biting at your lip as any words you try to come up with to describe this feeling inside you feel utterly inadequate.

“Know it’s small but I wanted to have something just for me, that only I could see most of th’ time. To remind me of you, to have with me wherever I go.”

“On your skin. Forever.”

“Yeah,” he says, huffing a laugh. “Forever. After that conversation we had … think I’ve always been a bit scared of permanence, feeling trapped in something, always thinking of what else is out there. There’s none of that, with you. No fear. Just feel so bloody excited, to get to be with you and know and love you in this new way.”

“Me too.” you say, heart racing at the smile that grows on his face. “I love the tattoo.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck, sliding one hand up into his hair, taking a deep breath, wanting to get this right. You have time to tell him how you feel now. There’s no looming party guests, nothing you’re hiding from, nothing you’re rushing to. It’s you and him, with all the time in the world. 

“When I confessed my feelings the first time, felt like I rushed it a bit. Didn’t mean to say it out loud and just told you you’re my favorite person about eight times.”

“No complaints here,” he says, his shining eyes not once drifting away from yours.

“Yeah but I want to say more this time. You are my best friend and my favorite person.” you say, heart fluttering when he smiles so wide his dimple pops out. “And… I’ve spent most of my life loving you and thought I had a pretty good handle on what that felt like, what it meant to be utterly in love with you. But after these last few months… turns out I’ve been barely scratching the surface. I can’t believe the amount of love I feel for you - I’ve never felt like this with anyone before and to have it be with you…not sure there are words for it, really. I think you’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”

You see the way your words hit him, tears clouding his eyes as he tightens his mouth in an attempt to hold it all in, looking at you in awe, in love. Nothing but love. 

You lean in at the same time, mouths connecting in a sweet kiss, arms holding each other tight, as close as you can possibly be. In disbelief that you’re here, marveling at how far you’ve come from that courtyard, reveling in the feeling of his mouth on yours, his hands sliding over your skin. Thinking back to those two kids dancing together in the school gym, the two 22 year old best friends fighting in the pub for reasons you couldn’t decipher, stares lingering at his mum’s birthday years later for reasons you refused to admit.  

The one who tried to be your first kiss when you were thirteen but got too nervous, who held you when your granddad died, who called you from across an ocean when the pressure got too much, who cried in the courtyard when you told him you loved him the night before his wedding, who knocked on your hotel room door at four in the morning to say, “‘m leaving and I want you to come with me.”, the one who made love to you in his bedroom in Italy, the one who held you in your tiny kitchen and made your relationship official, the one who has a tattoo for you on his arm, permanent. Yours. Yours. Yours.

You pull away slowly, wide smiles and tear tracks covering both of your faces, cheeks flushed and eyes full of love. He nudges his nose against yours, pressing a kiss to your lips before pulling back.

“You and me, yeah?” he whispers, arms holding you so carefully, strongly, tightly. 

“Yeah,” you say, leaning in to kiss him again and again and again. “You and me.”

----

a/n: holy fucking shit can we believe it?! man how deeeply i appreciate all of you who have waited this long for this part, i worked on it for months and truly cant believe its here, lots of days felt like it was never going to come together. endless gratitude for everyone who reads and loves them like i do and was nagging me to keep working on it. there is still more of their story to tell that i wasnt possibly going to add on too this 20k saga so ill see u at the epilogue <3. never spent more time on a piece of writing in my life, pleease let me know what you think. ily ily ily.

taglist: @tobesolovelysstuff, @louyoursins, @daydreamingofmatilda, @jojo-blog53, @marzhshaim, @devilsqueen722, @just-happiness-only,@lomlhstyles, @feestyles, @spock4presidnet, @sunshinemoonsposts, @indierockgirrl, @jerseygirlinca, @kissitnhekitchen,

[bubbleddisasters]

So I saw a cool ship edit with Cater and Che’nya, and that has given me the confidence to talk about my favorite crackship/Rare pair!

(This is pretty long, sorry!)

Che’nya and Idia!

It originally started out as a joke like “Over Powered Cat Boy x Cat Loving Gamer Boy”, but then I realized how actually good they could be for eachother.

Although they never technically talk in canon, they do meet in Glorious Masquerade for like 6 seconds, but I shipped them prior lol.

Basically, Che’nya would be extremely good for Idia in many ways, I hope its not a bother, but I’ll just list my personal ideas!

(Keep in mind that in Alice in Wonderland, Its stated in “Through the Looking Glass” the Cheshire Cat is the second most powerful being, next to the personification of Time, So I envision Che’nya is pretty op, and theres some evidence to prove that but i’m not going to get in to that right now)

Starting off from Idias side:

One: Lets say Idia refuses to eat or care for himself, Che’nya could teleport away his consoles until he does, or teleport the food to him.

Like : “You won’t shower? Gee I wonder where your routers went.” “Won’t sleep? I opened a portal on your gaming chair that teleports you to your bed” “Won’t drink water? Damn, that figurine near the edge of the table looking real pushable right now.”

We also know that Idia has a huge soft spot for cats. Che’nya is most definitely the most cat like person in the cast. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a cat form. So thats definitely some sway there.

Also, if he does or even if he doesn’t have a cat form, he has a big and floofy tail, and if he does have a cat form, I imagine it to be Mainecoon like (since Che’nya is pretty tall and lanky) so free floof to pet/brush when Idias stressed (also A Whisker Away AU?)

Another thing is Che’nyas invisibility: He can be a comfort for Idia without being seen, so Idias less judged for his anxiousness. Like if Idias in a stressful meeting or something in STYX, He can be there to comfort or calm him without anyones notice. Also, If Idias in a stressful social situation, Che’nya can teleport him or them both away, or make them or just him invisible.

Plus, judging from the most definitely self made artwork on Che’nyas pants, I think its safe to say he’s probably an artist of some sort, and I think he’d be more than willing to indulge/read/play/watch Idias recommendations, and maybe draw something for him. (The requirements are either cuddles or Solving Che’nyas riddles three)

Finally, judging by the fact Che’nya casually waltzes through NRCs magic barrier, which took SEVERAL HIGH TECH STYX STRIKES TO CRACK, often enough for Riddle to be able to say “The Intruder” and everyone just knows its Che’nya.

Also, RSA is THE ENTIRE ISLAND AWAY AND ON A GIANT FUCKING MOUNTAIN, so this means Che’nya is very casually teleporting across the equivalent of atleast a small country without producing jack shit in terms of blot, while (from what we can see on his design) not wearing a mage stone.

He’s also been detaching his own body parts, flying, going invisible, etc since age 5, and from Rollos story we know that amount of magic use would indefinitely kill 80% of people, especially a kid, so knowing that, I’m pretty sure its somewhat safe to say if Che’nya got into S.T.Y.X atleast once so he knows where it is, he’d be able to teleport back in and out (the security team fucking hates him and the blot research team wants to experiment on him.)

With that, Idia wouldn’t feel as if he’s trapping Che’nya down there if they were to tie the knot, and gives the possibility of being able to teleport out to shore for in town dates.

On Che’nyas side, Idia is someone who’s very fun once he sort of lets himself go, and god forbid if those two team up on April Fools.

He’s also someone that is already pretty lonely by nature and I find it extremely plausible Che’nya feels slightly replaced by Cater, and although he definitely still cherishes Riddle and Trey, its nice to have someone that you don’t fear might find a replacement.

Also, at RSA, we know he’s good friends with Neige, but because of Neiges fame, that must be hella stressful when you’re trying to hang out and get jumped by fans or paparazzi.

Not to mention Neige is likely very very busy due to the same factor. I’d also wager most people at RSA are not as much fun to him, considering it’s mentioned they always seem to be perfect and pristine at events.

That cycle of semi- perfect paradise like school days would probably bore him, along with the very bland or stereotypical reactions I can imagine his pranks getting.

So we have on one side the stress of being friends with someone in the limelight at all times, and the stress being chased around when you go to visit your childhood friends + being lowkey replaced.

So someone you can pretty much always count on to be available and a dorm that won’t chase you out (probably too anti-social and/or Socially anxious to do so) and is somewhat willing to indulge in your chaos from time to time, or just play games with.

I could also see Che’nya and Ortho getting along very well too, with Ortho being the most aggressive wingman for Idia. Also, if Che’nya gets Ortho in on pranking Idia, it’s going to turn into a prank WAR.

Also, fun idea, Lilia, Cater and Trey being Che’nyas Wingmen.

I like to imagine Che’nya and Lilia are extremely good friends (They call themselves the Pink Bats and Purple Cats Jumpscarers) and since from what we know, Che’nya only has his grandfather, Lilia emotionally adopted him after Che’nya unintentionally fell asleep in his Cat form in the woods and Lilia told Silver to bring him back because “he was concerned about the high magic levels he sensed” and basically did the equivalent of

—-

Silver: “Father, It might not be a stray-“

Lilia, fully aware its a fae beastman : “Finders Keepers :) “

——

Basically this snowballs into Che’nya getting invited into the dungeon runs with Idia, and yea.

Trey’s wingmanning is 40% trying to make sure Riddle doesn’t catch Che’nya, 20% trying to make sure he doesn’t blow up the kitchen trying to make something for Idia, and 40% being the sane consultant of date ideas, making sure Cater doesn’t go overboard with ship posts, and the preventive measurer to the date ideas recommended by Lilia.

——

“Please do not have a sword duel for a date.”

“Nya? I’d be fun!”

“I don’t see why not. I did that with my lovers back in the day. Melanor in her training uniform was quite a sight to behold, Ravaene also looked fine, I suppose. Poor him was always too easy for us to take out however-“

“Lilia, thats uh, not the point. I don’t trust either of them with weapons.”

“Hm? Silver got his first sword when he was 10 or so. Baul and I refereed Sebek and Silvers first real duel when they were…12, methinks? For all Bauls bragging about his grandson, it was my son who won in the end-“

*Camera pans to a very concerned Riddle in the doorway.*

“What kind of a discussion is going on here?!”

—-

Yea, thats pretty much it!

(If you recognize some of the beginning spiel from a comment section on tiktok yes I wrote that and I got mildly lazy and thought past me explained it pretty well so I copy and pasted a few pieces)