Summary: Bucky works as an Avenger because it’s what’s right. He feels he has sins he’ll never be able to make up for, but he’ll spend the rest of his life trying. However, his life takes an unexpected turn when he comes across Andie, the daughter of divorced Y/N. The life he had once “maintained” in hopes of surviving changes as his heart warms for a tough-as-nails nurse and her wonderful daughter.
Hey there guys! Today is Christmas!! (At least for me) and I have a gift prepared for you! During this very day (24.12 24) there will be many fanfiction posted! But keep in mind that they wont be added in the Masterlist until later. And this one is the first! So be prepared for a few more and Merry Christmas!
1/24
Characters:
• Y/N (Reader): A mentally challenged and sweet individual who is curious and kind-hearted. Y/N’s unfiltered honesty and unpredictability disrupt Truman’s scripted world.
• Truman Burbank: A kind man growing suspicious of his controlled reality. Truman is intrigued by Y/N’s sincerity, which feels different from everyone else.
• Christof: The controlling producer of the Truman Show, determined to maintain the illusion but conflicted as Y/N boosts ratings.
• Control Room Staff: Workers who monitor Seahaven and respond to Christof’s directives.
Trigger Warnings:
• Representation of mental health challenges.
• Emotional manipulation and themes of control.
• Existential questions about reality and freedom.
Masterlist
Words: 1401
Today, you had a goal, though it wasn’t very clear even to you. Something about the smell of the ocean made you want to follow it. Your shoes scuffed against the sidewalk as you made your way toward the harbor, your hands fiddling with the hem of your sweater.
---
The sun was warm on your face as you wandered the streets of Seahaven. Your steps were light, your movements slightly uncoordinated as you hummed to yourself, captivated by the picture-perfect world around you. Seahaven always felt safe, like a dream. It was bright and cheerful, just like the cartoons you loved watching when you could find a TV.
That’s when you saw him.
A man stood by the water, staring out at the horizon. His shoulders slumped slightly, and he seemed... sad. You weren’t sure why, but the sight of him made your heart ache. Without thinking, you walked up to him.
“Hello!” you said, your voice light and soft.
The man turned, startled by your sudden appearance. He blinked at you, his blue eyes narrowing slightly, as if trying to place you.
“Hi,” he said, a bit cautiously. Then, after a pause: “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. Are you new here?”
You tilted your head, your brows furrowing in confusion. “No... I don’t think so. I’ve been here... um... forever, maybe?” You giggled nervously, tugging on your sweater. “I’m not good at remembering.”
Truman’s smile softened. “That’s okay,” he said kindly. “I’m Truman.”
You grinned at him, your nervous energy settling a bit. “I’m Y/N.”
Up in the control room, Christof froze as he watched the screen.
“Who is that?” he demanded, pointing at your figure as you stood beside Truman.
“Uh... we don’t know, sir,” one of the assistants stammered, pulling up files. “She’s not in the cast list.”
“She’s not supposed to be there,” Christof said sharply. “Get her out. Now.”
“Wait,” another voice interjected. “The ratings are climbing.”
Christof’s eyes narrowed. He watched as Truman spoke to you, his body language open and curious. The viewers, it seemed, were eating it up.
“Fine,” Christof muttered after a long pause. “She stays. For now. But keep a close eye on her.”
Over the next few days, you and Truman became fast friends. He was endlessly patient with you, answering your sometimes odd or repetitive questions and laughing at your unintentionally funny remarks.
“You’re so nice,” you told him one day, sitting on the grass in the park. You were pulling apart a dandelion, your fingers clumsy but gentle.
Truman chuckled. “Thanks, Y/N. You’re nice too.”
You beamed at him, your smile bright and unguarded. “I don’t have many friends,” you admitted softly, glancing down at the pieces of the dandelion in your hands. “People think I’m... um... different.”
Truman’s smile faltered slightly. “Different isn’t bad,” he said after a moment. “Sometimes, I think being different is the best thing you can be.”
Your eyes lit up at his words. “Really?”
“Really,” he said firmly.
What Truman didn’t tell you—what he was still trying to figure out himself—was that you were the first person in Seahaven who felt truly real. Everyone else in his life followed a pattern, a script, but you... you were unpredictable. It was like you didn’t belong here, and that made him question everything even more.
In the control room, Christof observed your interactions with growing unease. You were an anomaly, a crack in the perfect facade he had built. Yet, the viewers adored you. They loved your sweet, childlike demeanor, your unfiltered honesty, your gentle way of connecting with Truman.
“Sir, they’re gaining traction,” one of the assistants said, showing him the latest ratings. “People are calling her ‘The Real Stranger.’ They think she’s part of Truman’s journey to self-discovery.”
Christof’s jaw tightened. He didn’t like the disruption, but he couldn’t deny the numbers. “Keep her in,” he said reluctantly. “But keep a tight leash on her movements.”
One evening, as the two of you walked along the beach, Truman turned to you, his expression serious.
“Y/N,” he said, “do you ever feel like something’s... off about this place?”
You looked at him, your head tilting in that way you often did when you were trying to process a question. “Off? Like... weird?”
“Yeah,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Like it’s not real. Like everyone’s... pretending.”
You frowned, your hands fiddling with the shell you’d picked up earlier. “I don’t know,” you said honestly. “I don’t really think about stuff like that.”
Truman sighed, but he didn’t seem frustrated. Instead, he smiled at you—a small, grateful smile. “Maybe that’s a good thing,” he said. “Maybe I think too much.”
You giggled, and the sound was like a balm to his frayed nerves. “Maybe I can do the thinking for you! I’m good at noticing fun things. Like... look!” You held up the shell triumphantly. “It’s a tiny house for crabs!”
Truman laughed, shaking his head. “You’re something else, Y/N.”
---
The beach was quiet, the sun setting over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. You walked barefoot along the shoreline, the sand soft and cool beneath your feet. Truman followed a few steps behind, hands in his pockets, his gaze shifting between you and the endless expanse of water.
He had never been particularly fond of the ocean. It wasn’t just the water; it was something deeper—an unease rooted in memories he tried not to dwell on. But you seemed to love it, and that intrigued him.
“Do you come here often?” he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.
You nodded enthusiastically, turning to face him as you walked backward, your movements unsteady but free. “I like how it moves! It’s like the water’s dancing, but also... not. It’s just... there.”
Truman chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s one way to look at it.”
Without warning, you darted toward the waves, giggling as the water lapped at your ankles. “It tickles!” you exclaimed, looking back at him with wide eyes.
Truman smiled, but his feet remained firmly planted on the dry sand. “You’re braver than me,” he admitted.
“Brave?” you tilted your head, genuinely puzzled. “It’s just water! Come try!”
“I’m good here,” he said quickly, taking a step back as the tide crept closer.
You frowned, your expression softening into concern. “Are you scared?”
Truman hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground. “It’s complicated,” he said quietly.
You didn’t press further, sensing his discomfort. Instead, you waded deeper into the water, your laughter carrying back to him as you splashed around.
Up in the control room, Christof watched the scene with growing interest.
“What is she doing?” one of the assistants murmured.
“She’s spontaneous,” Christof replied, his tone almost grudgingly admiring. “She’s giving him something no one else has: unpredictability.”
The cameras zoomed in on Truman, capturing every flicker of emotion on his face as he watched you.
“Come on, Truman!” you called, your voice bright and encouraging. “The water’s nice!”
“I think I’ll just watch,” he said, trying to sound casual.
But you weren’t having it. Wading closer to the shore, you held out your hand to him, your smile sweet and unwavering. “I’ll be here. You don’t have to go far, just a little. I’ll help, promise!”
Truman hesitated, torn between his fear and your earnestness. Something about the way you looked at him, so full of trust and warmth, made him take a tentative step forward.
The first touch of the water against his shoes made him flinch, but you didn’t let go of his hand. “See? Not so bad!” you said softly, giving him a reassuring squeeze.
He took another step, and then another, until the waves lapped at his knees. His breath came quicker, his heart pounding in his chest, but your presence grounded him.
“You’re doing so good!” you cheered, your delight genuine. “Look! The water likes you!”
Truman laughed shakily, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit. “I don’t think water can like anyone.”
“Sure it can,” you said matter-of-factly. “It likes you because you’re here. And I like you too, so that’s double nice.”
He looked at you, his heart swelling at your innocent words. “Thanks, Y/N,” he said quietly.
For the first time in years, he felt the faintest flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he could face his fears—with you by his side.
A/N: this has been on my mind all week... and deep isn't even my favorite character!! i hope this reaches some of his fans though. please enjoy!
Tags: headcanons, dub-con, overstim, p in v, coercion, oral (m receiving), slight watersports, choking and breathplay
Wordcount: 1k
Porn-brained Deep who refuses to ever use lube.
He doesn't believe in it, thinks it's a crutch, that it's insulting. "We don't need that, babe. I can get you wet enough by myself," he would say, giving your clit a smack. He would spit all over your pussy, just like they do in the dirty films he loses himself in at night.
When he finally aligns himself with your cunt and shoves his way in, he groans at the resistance. "Give it a second," he would say through clenched teeth, eyebrows pinching together. He fucks into you anyways, ignoring your pained whines. Once you adjust to his size and give up on trying to get him to stop, your body relaxes just a bit and your pussy forms a precious little creamy ring around his cock, slicking him up nice and good. "What'd I say, huh? Always getting wet for me."
Porn-brained Deep who grows obsessed with the idea of choking you during sex.
The girls in the videos he watches love it, so he tries it without warning. At first, his hand just wraps around your throat enough to hold you in place, keeping you anchored against the bed while he pummels his cock into you.
Unfortunately, he did zero actual research on safe breathplay and pushes down further on your throat, nearly crushing your windpipe. He sees the way you squirm and assumes it's because of how much you love it, so he adds his other hand, stupidly unaware of how strong he actually is.
"Fuck, your face is getting so red, baby. Must really like this." He shoves his tongue into your breathless mouth, stealing what little bit of air you have left. "Didn't know you were such a freak."
Porn-brained Deep who is personally offended when you can't squirt for him.
He takes it as a slight against him, as if he isn't fucking you well enough. He thinks squirting is just the female equivalent of ejaculating, so when you tell him you came but he didn't see you squirt, he thinks you're lying to save his feelings and he doesn't like that one bit.
He's folded your legs to your chest, pushing them the farthest they can go. One hand is planted on your lower belly, pushing down on where his cock is hitting, and the other is abusing your clit. "I'm not fucking pathetic, I don't need you to lie to me. I can make you cum whenever I want," he would say, mostly to himself, as you are a lost cause—nothing but a sobbing mess at this point.
"Can't do it anymore," you managed to shriek, feeling your eighth orgasm creep down your spine. It's not enough for him. It's not real if he can't see it. "Please, no more! F—fuck!"
He clamps his hand over your mouth to shut you up and lifts your lower body up with his other hand. This angle lets him hit even deeper, abusing the spot that aches for him. He's also managing to hit your bladder, too, though, and with each thrust, little sprays of piss leak out of your sore cunt.
"That's it," he would goad, pulling his dick out and smacking it against your sopping pussy. "You're gonna keep fuckin' squirting for me until I'm done. You've been holding out on me."
Porn-brained Deep who treats you like a doll.
He moves you in any position he wants, pulling and shoving you like you're weightless. If he wants you face down and ass up, then that's how he'll maneuver you. He rips your legs apart without a care, sliding himself between your thighs like it's his rightful place.
"Take it," he would coo. "Every inch, now. Don't squeeze me out."
He's rooted behind you, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, slamming into you at a murderous pace. When you try to catch your breath and lift your head, he smothers your face back into the pillow, using his foot on the back of your head.
He degrades you physically and praises you verbally, giving you whiplash and keeping you dizzy, drenched, and dumb on his cock.
Porn-brained Deep who doesn't let you swallow his cum.
When you blow him, he refuses to let you swallow. That's too clean, he wants you messy.
Sometimes, he makes you slowly drool it out so he can watch it pool down your neck and chest.
Sometimes, he wants you to blow bubbles with it, drooling over his balls and slicking them up with his own diluted cum.
Sometimes, he kisses you right after and steals his own cum from your mouth, swishing it around with his saliva before spitting it back out onto your face with a dazed smirk.
Most of the time, though, he takes hold of your hand, brings it to your own mouth, and tells you to spit. He lets go of your wrist and nods. You know exactly what to do.
You bring the messy hand to your cunt and smear it all over, coating your folds with his cum.
"Don't forget—yeah, good," he would hum, watching you shove your cum covered fingers into your hole. "Good girl, that's right. Fuck it back inside."
Porn-brained Deep who forces you to watch videos with him.
"See that? Don't you wanna be a nasty girl just like her?"
Cum funnels, gangbangs, anal, double penetration, all of it. Anything sick, perverted, or icky is his holy grail.
He slowly pets your pussy, mentally taking note of which scenes make your panties wetter and which ones make your clit throb under his touch. When a video of a woman tied up to the bed pops up, a vibrator assaulting her helpless cunt, he feels your pussy twitch.
"Yeah?" He looks over at you, an eyebrow raised. "You like that?" He rubs you more purposefully, focusing on your swollen clit.
"I guess my baby's getting to be just as gross as I am, huh?"
task force 141 + konig where they gangbang y/n (they corner them in the lockerroom/barracks-- y/n accidentally goes into the wrong room, or is it really the wrong room??) OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT and they each take their turn :DD AAAA im so sorry if its difficult i just really love ur writing :") please take ur time and if u ever do consider this THANK U :")
Pairing: 141 + König x F!Reader
Category: Smut (18+)
Warnings: Consensual Gangbanging, Multiple (and I mean multiple) Orgasms, Clit Play, Oral Sex (69), Penis in Vagina Sex, Thigh Fucking, Anal Sex, Spanking, Vaginal/Anal Fingering, Reader is Going to be Sore 💀
Word Count: 4.1k+
Author’s Note: Hi there! Thank you very much for your request. There were so many different scenarios but I was able to eventually dwindle it down to Y/N walking into the wrong locker room (whoopsie daisy). Also, König is included in the fic, I just couldn’t find a picture with all of them. I hope you enjoy!
MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI
You yawned as you stretched your arms above your head. The sound of the water spraying from the showers was music to your ears-your body worn and grimy from the recent mission. You pushed open the door and padded inside, your steps heavy with exhaustion. All you had on your mind was taking a quick shower and slipping beneath your covers. Billows of steam rushed towards you as you opened the double doors. You headed towards your locker and paid no mind to the other bodies wandering about the room. You furrowed your brows when the combination didn’t work. You frowned as you tried again. Nothing. You flinched when a distinctly male voice cleared his throat behind you.
“Think you’re in the wrong room, lovie”.
Your eyes widened as you slowly turned around. Your blood ran cold. Your lieutenant, Ghost, was standing in front of you with crossed arms, his bulging muscles still dripping with hot water. You blushed when you realized he wasn’t wearing his mask. His face was rugged and littered with scars, an obvious sign of him living through years of combat. Your heart began to race as he took one step closer. You couldn’t tear your eyes away when they wandered down to see his girthy cock hanging between his legs. You bit your lip when you caught a glimpse of it twitching to life. Ghost was only a few feet in front of you as his arms fell to his sides.
“What’re you doin’ in ‘ere, hm, Sergeant?” he mused with a raised brow. His shadow swallowed you whole as you tried to look away. You swallowed a lump in your throat, gripping the towel you held in your arms.
“I-I’m sorry. It was an accident-truly,” you stammered as you felt heat rise to your cheeks. Your eyes flicked around the room to look anywhere but at him, only to lock eyes with the other men. Your knees felt weak as they all stood there staring at you and your flimsy cover-up. You felt your breath punched out of your lungs when you realized they were just as stark naked as Ghost. Your lips parted as your mind began to buzz with a whirlwind of emotions.
You were embarrassed beyond belief…and yet, you couldn’t help but feel the intoxication of pure lust coursing through you. Your blood ran cold when you saw your very own Captain in the same room: his stormy, sea green eyes piercing into you as he gave a wry grin. You felt dizzy as you tried to brace yourself against the lockers, clenching your legs together. Ghost chuckled as he slid his hand beneath your chin, tilting it up so you could meet his gaze.
“You sure it was an accident? Cause the way you're shifting your cute little thighs together tells me otherwise,” he muttered, his hot breath fanning over your neck. A small moan left your lips as his lips raked across your skin. He looked back up at you, his mahogany eyes dripping with pure desire. “Tell us what you want, love,” Ghost murmured, his hands falling to delicately brush over your hips.
Us?
Your eyes were as wide as saucers as you looked around the room. All of the 141's cock’s seemed to twitch and throb to life. Your mouth nearly snapped open when you saw a towering man, who you assumed to be König, pawing at his massive length. Was this really happening? You whined when Ghost peppered your neck with open mouth kisses. A rush of heat struck through your core as he suckled over your pulse, then licked across the blooming hickey. You swallowed thickly before parting your lips.
“I-I want you…all of you,” you squealed when Ghost suckled another hickey onto your neck. He parted from your neck and nipped at the shell of your ear. Your body trembled at the prospect of having every one of your holes stretched and pumped full of cum while you jerked two other men off with your smaller hands. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as Ghost sank his teeth into your neck. You gasped as he flattened his tongue over the throbbing bite mark.
“Gonna take our sweet time with you-right lads?” he rumbled before kissing up your jaw. You heard the men grunt in agreement, their voices falling onto your ears like a melody. You felt lost in your own emotions as they tumbled and crashed together. You squeezed your legs even tighter as Ghost pulled his head up and gave you a soft smile. Your heart cracked at the sight-you were so used to seeing his macabre visage that his expressions seemed lost to you.
“Can’t wait to see how good that pussy feels,” he said before stealing a slow, tender kiss from your lips. The distinguished sound of a door locking felt numb to your ears as the taste of your lieutenant flooded your mouth. It was slightly minty with a hint of tobacco, the flavors blending together as both of you slung your tongues together. You sighed into the kiss as his hands worked to peel your towel off of your trembling body. You felt goosebumps bloom across your body as the fabric fell to the floor.
“Fuckin’ beautiful,” Ghost breathed, admiring your body. You blushed furiously before he dove back in, his hands gently massaging your hips. Your eyes shot open when another rugged body came up behind you and sandwiched you together. You turned to see Soap beaming at you with his usual, cheeky grin.
“Mind if I have the first go?” he whispered as he licked your jawline. You keened at the feeling of his hot member twitching against your ass.
“P-Please,” you sighed while nodding your head. Ghost remained still for a moment, though decided to step back, admiring the view before him as he gripped his own girthy cock. A deep rumble rose from Soap’s chest as his hands slowly came up your sides. You gasped as they landed on your breasts.
“So fuckin’ soft,” he murmured. You felt arousal start to leak between your legs as he slowly tweaked your sensitive nipples between his rough fingers. You arched your back, pushing your butt further into his hips. The movement caused his dick to slip between your thighs, his head just barely poking out from the front of them.
“Please, Johnny,” you mewled. Soap moaned at the sound of his real name as his hands spread over your tits. You went to spread your legs. A whimper left you as you felt him harshly squeeze your breasts.
“Keep your legs together,” Soap ordered with a husky growl. You nodded before throwing your head back, letting it fall on his sturdy shoulder. Soap pressed kisses up your neck as he began to slowly push and pull his cock between your thighs. He groaned as your cunt coated his thick length with your juices.
“Mm, that’s it,” the man groaned as he kneaded your breasts. Your mind became more fuzzy as he added another bite mark to your shoulder. “That’s my good lass,” he lilted. You felt your walls clench as the head of his cock continuously breached through your slick folds. Soap grunted as his thumbs flicked your hard nipples, his hot mouth enveloped over your shoulder in a wet kiss.
“Christ, Soap-hurry up,” Gaz whined. You gazed up at the man with half-lidded eyes. Gaz stared at you with a similar expression, his nostrils flaring as he squeezed his leaking dick in his hand. Your eyes squeezed shut when Soap’s hand fell down and began to rub meticulous circles around your swollen nub.
“Ah, don’t stop,” you whined. Your knees buckled when you felt Soap pinch your clit. He wrapped his arm around your torso, pressing your back flush against his broad chest. You felt like you were being rocked by an ocean of bliss as he started to buck into you at a hungry pace.
“‘M not gonna stop-not when you feel this fuckin’ good,” Soap groaned. The sound of your slick movements stoked the fire growing in the pit of your belly. You mewled as Soap drew faster circles around your clit. “C’mon-cum with me, bonnie,” he moaned with a sharp snap of his hips. You gasped as the cord inside of you snapped violently. You arched your back as a white-hot wave of ecstasy washed over you.
The feeling of Soap’s cock twitching beneath you only prolonged your blissful contractions. He coated your thighs with rope after rope of his cum, the warmth dribbling down to your knees as you writhed in pleasure. Soap kissed your cheek as his cock began to soften between your legs. You panted as your high dissipated.
“Look so cute when you cum over my cock, hen,” Soap praised as he still held you close. He kissed your temple before slowly backing away from you, his hands protectively placed on your hips. You stared into his deep blue eyes before you felt a new pair of warm hands . You gazed behind you, meeting a pair of chocolate brown eyes.
“‘Scuse me, love,” Gaz gave a wry grin as he laid himself down on the hard surface. You mirrored his expression as you sat on top of him, angling yourself to take his cock. He clicked his tongue.
“Not quite what I had in mind,” Gaz said as he grabbed your hips. You gasped as he spun you around, your dripping cunt hovering just above his mouth. Your eyes grew wide at the sight of his thick cock twitching right in front of your face. Your breath stuttered as you heard Gaz smack his lips, his hot breath cascaded over your folds.
“H-Holy shit,” you whispered. Your hands flew up to brace Gaz’s thighs as he slipped his mouth over your cunt. You moaned, a jolt of electricity shooting through your core. You took several deep breaths as he moved his tongue back and forth, writing out his name across your slit. You took a few deep breaths before slowly sinking your mouth around his shaft.
Gaz groaned as he swiped at your folds while you bobbed your head up and down his length. He was thicker than you imagined-his girth stretching out your jaw more than any other man you’ve been with. The taste of his salty-bitter precum danced over your tongue as you swirled your wet muscle around his head each time you came back up.
“Yeah, that’s it baby,” he murmured into your pussy before taking your clit between his lips. Your hands clenched around his thighs as he swirled his tongue around the sensitive nub.
“Gaz, fuck,” you whined, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the head of his cock. The sergeant chuckled before thrusting his tongue inside of your quivering hole. You sucked in a sharp breath through your nose before angling your head to take him in deeper, his tip hitting the back of your throat.
Both of you moaned and panted as you ate each other like starved wolves. The vibrations from Gaz’s voice sent ripples of arousal straight into your core. You released a breathy sigh around his dick as he slipped his tongue out and slid one of his digits inside of you. You shifted your hips over Gaz’s face as he stroked you tenderly, his finger reaching and caressing your g-spot. You heard him emit a low growl as his cock twitched inside of your wet cavern.
You moaned his name as he gave a harsh suck to your clit, your second high tearing you in half. Your whole body grew tense as his cock was lodged deep in your throat. You gasped as you felt something warm spill into your mouth, his cum draining down your esophagus. His brows furrowed as your walls clenched around his finger, sucking him in eagerly.
As your high began to fade, you slowly pulled your lips off of his length. You made sure to keep your lips tightly wound together, carefully holding his seed inside your mouth. He smoothed his hands over your hips, raising them before he gasped out for air. It made you wonder if he wanted to suffocate as he devoured your cunt. The thought made a small shiver course through you.
“Fuck me, (Y/N). That was incredible,” Gaz gasped between heavy breaths. You smiled sheepishly before turning so he could see your slightly swollen cheeks. His lips parted as you audibly swallowed his cum. You grinned as you stuck out your tongue. No trace of white was left. “Bloody hell,” he shuddered.
You smiled as the man guided you to rest on his chest. You closed your eyes and caught your breath, the afterglow of your orgasm warming you from head to toe. Just as you felt your heart rate steady, a shadow crossed over you. You cracked an eye open to see your Captain looming above you, his thick hand pumping at his red-hot length.
“Believe I should’ve gone first-bein’ your Captain and all,” Price muttered. Gaz huffed as he helped you off of him, guiding you to sit up while he slid off the bench. You gazed up at Price with the biggest doe-eyes you could pull, though it seemed futile when you were shoved onto your stomach. You winced as his calloused hands kneaded at the flesh of your hips. You turned your head slightly to see your Captain leaning on the bench with one knee, his other leg balancing himself on the tiled floor. He raised a thick brow as he continued to jerk himself off.
“Think you should be disciplined, Sergeant. You’ve walked into the men’s locker room like a naughty girl,” Price grunted. You cried out as he laid a smack against your ass. He groaned as he watched it jiggle, a red mark staining your bum. You felt your heart race when he grabbed your asscheeks in his hands, spreading them apart.
The man shoved two of his fingers into his mouth before releasing them with a wet “pop”. You moaned as he circled your puckering asshole with his digits. Your hands flew in front of you to grab the edges of the bench as he moved to massage your ass with one hand, the other slowly dipping into your hole.
“Say it-say what a naughty girl you’ve been,” Price commanded as he pumped his fingers into you. You gurgled incoherently, your mind intoxicated from two mind-shattering orgasms and the feeling of him stretching your hole wide open. You lunged forward as he smacked your bum again, this time leaving another red mark.
“I-I’m a naughty girl,” you keened, shaking your ass as he thrusted his digits inside with a sudden squelch. “A-And I need to be disciplined,” you batted your lashes. Price growled before curling his fingers inside of you.
“Damn right, you do,” he huffed with a small smirk. You jolted forward as he suddenly shoved his length into your asshole, molding your insides the shape of his cock. Your mouth snapped into a tight “o” as you felt yourself being stretched out by your Captain, inch by delicious inch.
“So fuckin’ tight-Christ,” he grunted as his hips became flush with your raw ass. You moaned at the tightness before he slid himself out, leaving his head inside. Your fingers curled around the bench as he pistoned into you, his hands bruisingly gripping your waist. “Love how your hole stretches around me,” Price rumbled. You felt tears prick at your eyes, the sensations overwhelming you from head to toe. You yelped as he laid another slap to your ass.
“Fuck-I want to see you, love-but this arse just feels too fuckin’ good,” he hissed between gritted teeth. You arched your back as he grabbed your hair, pulling on it while he shoved a few fingers into your mouth. You instinctively suckled on them, tasting the saltiness of his sweat. You jolted when his other hand laid a sudden smack to your cunt, your slick spraying across his hand.
“I’m so close,” he grunted. Your head rolled to the side as your third orgasm washed over you, sending a shockwave through your core. Price growled as he slammed his hips into you. Your entire body lit on fire as he filled up your insides. It was an entirely new sensation-though it was one you could certainly get used to. He patted your thighs before slipping off of you, his rough palms lingering on your waist. Your limbs felt like they were full of lead as you tried to stand up, only to remain prone on the bench.
“Steamin’ Jesus, Price-I think you broke her,” Soap gaped. You blinked lazily before being pulled into two strong arms. You looked up to see an unfamiliar face above you. You gave a small smile as you recognized the pair of icy blue eyes that gazed down at you softly. The tip of a water bottle was pressed to your lips and you greedily slurped up the cold liquid.
“Ah, the little Maus just needed a break,” König cooed. You tapped his wrist, letting him know you were done with your drink. You smacked your lips when he pulled it away from you. You sighed and nuzzled your face into his rugged stomach as he gently rocked you in his arms, your naked body resting on his sturdy lap. His hand caressed your red cheek as he leaned down, kissing your forehead.
“Do you think you can handle any more, Schatz?” the Austrian murmured. You stared at him, eyes half-lidded and body shaking with overstimulation.
“Y-Yes,” you rasped out. König’s brows knitted together.
“If you’re feeling too tired, we don’t have-” He gasped when you straddled his hips, legs clumsily wrapping around his back. He moaned as you kissed him deeply, your pussy lips gliding over his massive length.
“I want to,” you said resolutely. König beamed before pressing his forehead to yours.
“Turn around for me then, Kätzchen,” he commanded gently with a pat on your waist. You smiled as you spun around, making sure to rake your ass against his abs. You could feel the rumble in his chest as you spread your limp legs over his. He muttered sweet phrases in German as he slipped his hand down towards your heat. You shivered against him as he spread your labia apart with his thick fingers. Your cunt was a mess of slick and cum that dribbled down from your asshole. He groaned as he felt around your puffy folds and swollen clit.
“Gonna take it nice and slow, ja?” König soothed. You nodded and relaxed as he slipped a finger into your hole. You gasped at how just one finger filled you up, your walls mush around the ridges of his digit. König grunted as he began to slowly pump his finger inside of you, his other hand massaging your bundle of nerves. You moaned as he played with your pussy, his movements calm and gentle. You gasped when the pad of his finger brushed against your g-spot. “Are you alright, Kätzchen?” he asked. You nodded, curling your hands around his wrists.
“Yes-you feel so good, Kö. Making me feel so good,” you praised. König grinned before he added another finger into your cunt, stretching you out wonderfully. His movements grew a bit faster as his thumb flicked and stroked at your clit. You gasped when his fingers were replaced with his cock. Your eyes nearly crossed as you felt his immensely thick shaft split you down the middle.
“Meine,” was all he could rasp out before he gently bucked into your heat. You moaned when you saw his head bulge beneath your stomach. You could feel your body melting in his touch. He continued to swirl his finger around your nub as he bounced you on his cock, his voice cracking with every moan and pant that left him. Despite his gargantuan size, he was handling you like you were made of porcelain. Your eyes glazed over as you felt yourself tense again. König whined as your walls constricted around him.
“König-I’m gonna cum,” you mewled. He rumbled before pistoning his hips up into your heat.
“Fuck-me too,” he gasped out. Both of you moaned at the same time as your walls contracted around him. He stilled inside you, your cunt milking his cock dry. You whined as you felt his cum gush out of your pussy, flooding his lap. The rush of liquid never seemed to end as he slowly pulled you off his length. He peppered your face with soft kisses before giving you another sip of water.
“You did so well for me, meine Schatz,” he praised while stroking your cheek with his thumb. You smiled at him sleepily before he receded back. You glanced above you to find Ghost standing tensely, his cock cherry red and ready to burst. He grabbed a towel lying on the floor and helped you up. You sighed as you were laid back down on the soft fabric, his palms stroking over your shaking legs.
“How you feelin’, lovie?” Ghost asked softly. You felt your voice die in your throat as he gazed at you with his gentle, brown eyes. Eyes you’ve seen full of a quiet rage countless times in combat.
“I think…I can do one more,” you puffed out. Ghost hummed as he adjusted his hips.
“Atta girl,” he praised. You smiled up at him as he slid his cock inside, pushing some of König’s cum out of your hole. You melted as he thrusted into you, gently massaging your tender breasts. “Been wantin’ you for so long-fuck-you feel better than I could ever imagine,” Ghost grunted. You bit your lip, taking in slow, deep breaths as he bottomed out inside of you.
Your limbs felt like putty in his hands as he raised one of your legs to fall over his shoulder. Both of you locked eyes and you nodded. He exhaled through his nose as he pumped his cock through your plush walls. You could feel your mind starting to grow fuzzy as he rocked his hips into you.
“Simon,” you murmured. Ghost’s hips stuttered as his name softly fell from your swollen lips. His movements became a little more hungry, his balls slapping against your cum-coated ass as he snapped his hips.
“So perfect f’me,” he groaned. You barely had time to brace yourself before your fifth orgasm shook you to your core, electricity trickling down to your fingers and toes.
“Christ, how many is that? Five?” he groaned. You nodded your head, letting your eyes close as you were rocked by his strong thrusts. Ghost rumbled as he crashed his lips onto yours. The sound of your sloppy, cum-filled cunt fluttering around his dick made your mind completely melt. “You’ve taken all so well, love,” Ghost praised as he bullied his cock into your hole. Your brows knitted together as he kissed you again.
“Gonna fill this pussy up, stuff you with my cum,” he moaned as his balls twitched against your folds. “You’d like that, love?” Ghost huffed. You nodded.
“Please, please fucking fill me,” you gasped. He chuckled as he sped up his thrusts, the sound of your skin slapping against his echoing throughout the tiled space. You moaned and raked your nails down his shoulders as he slammed his cock into you, stilling inside and shooting his load into your tight hole. Your jaw went slack as you felt your pussy warm, only to feel exhaustion wash over you once more.
“(Y/N)? Are you with me?” Ghost’s muffled voice called. You only managed to make a small mumbling noise before sleep finally overtook you.
+++
You gasped as you shot up beneath a cozy comforter. You looked down, seeing you were wearing a fresh pair of clothes. Your hair was still wet and smelled of shampoo. Your eyes scanned the dark room. You finally recognized that you were back in your quarters when your vision adjusted. You puffed out a breath of air as you sank your head down onto your pillow.
Was all of that just a dream?
Your face turned a deep shade of red at the many lewd acts that transpired. You yawned before shifting in your bed, gasping when you felt a dull ache blooming in all of your holes.
In this Choose Your Own Adventure, you've been married to Simon for two years now. When your husband forgets his home-cooked lunch for the third day in a row, how will you deal with it?
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Choose Your Own Adventure
🔗 READ/PLAY HERE
🎮interactive fanfic "To Love a Ghost" by Cyberkitty
📖 Episode 1 of 1
He'll have you sit on his lap naked, just so you'll get his jeans dirty. Something about it really makes his cock throb.
Or, he'll fuck you on his fingers while wearing his favourite pair of gloves before a mission, just so he has something to lick and smell when he gets lonely—and you do get a helluva fucking when your scent wears off his gloves sooner than usual. As if you can control that.
After one too many punishments for that though, you pushed him down and sat on his face while he wore his balaclava. Practically waterboarding the bloke with your arousal. Simon always loved when you were just as perverted as he was.
The thing that turns you on disgusts you the most? You'll be bent over in your kitchen, garden, laundry; and Simon'll come up behind you, shove his fingers in you before pulling them out before you can properly register what he's doing, walking off and sucking his fingers with a pleased hum.
You've scolded him for it countless times, yet the pervert doesn't care. Smiling at you in a way that from any other man? It would make your stomach twist in disgust. But from Simon? You can't get enough.
And yes, he is in fact the type of guy to pull your asscheeks apart so he can lick his thumb and press it against the spasming ring of muscle,
"If she keeps winking at me like this, I'll have to fuck her too." Growled in your ear while you whine in disgust, as if you don't have a pretty little collection of plugs in the back of your dresser already.
You and Simon just loved pretending like you were being corrupted by him.
⛧°. ⋆𓌹♰𓌺⋆. °⛧
Buy my cat a treat? (•˕ •マ.ᐟ
Might change my divider, and way of colouring text. I dunno guys. Anyway hiiiii lol please don't sound me for not posting until now. Can women be sounded? God I hope not.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader (past), OMC x Female!Reader (main)
Word Count: ~3.6k
Warnings: angst, heartbreak, falling into heartbreak after healing
Summary: After a whirlwind romance with Dean Winchester, you experience the worst heartbreak when he leaves you. You never thought you’d be able to move on until you finally do. Then one day, after not thinking about Dean once, he messages you, and it brings your entire world crumbling down.
Square Filled: “Some wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word.” for 2022 @spnquotebingo
Author’s Note: I wanted to write a story in the POV of a woman who was one of Dean's flings. One who fell hard for him before he upped and left because hunting needed him more.
Any and all comments are greatly appreciated! <3
x
The day after you said goodbye
All I did was lay in bed and cry
Never have you ever experienced heartbreak quite like this one. Dean Winchester left a lasting effect on your body and mind. You two weren't together for long, maybe a couple of months, but you fell hard and fast for him. He made it so damn easy to love him.
Dean, when he wants to be, is charming and loving and the perfect gentleman. When he was able to, he’d bring you flowers every time he visited you. When you were together, he made sure to always put you first. When he left, he made promises that he didn’t know he’d be able to keep.
He kept coming back. Sometimes with life-threatening wounds. Sometimes with pure exhaustion.
However, he always came back. The breaks lasted anywhere from one to seven days. You never knew what he did, who he was doing it with, or if he was being safe. Whenever you asked him about the wounds he had, he’d play it off as being clumsy or that he and his brother got into a fight.
You never questioned it because you figured he’d tell you when he was ready.
Now… Now you’re broken into a million little pieces that only Dean can put back together. He left, for good this time. What he left behind is a woman with a broken heart and a shattered soul.
You haven’t left your bed since he said goodbye, and you must have cried enough tears to fill up two bathtubs. Your older sister, Karlie, sits on the edge of your bed with a box of tissues in one hand and the other on your back.
“I’m not going to pretend to know what you felt for him, but this isn’t the end of the world, Y/N…”
“Why did he leave me?” you cry into your pillow. “I love him.”
Karlie has had her fair share of heartbreak, but she’s never seen you like this. It breaks her heart knowing she can’t make it better. It’s just you two after your parents died, so she feels a responsibility to look after you.
“There will be someone else, Y/N. Someone better. Someone you deserve.”
“I don’t want anyone else. I want Dean!”
She remembers you calling her crying when Dean left yesterday. You two had been on a romantic weekend that you were so excited about. She thought things were going well until Dean left. No goodbye, no explanation. He just dropped you off and told you it was over. That he was sorry. Karlie is pissed, and if she ever sees Dean, she’s going to make him regret breaking your heart.
For right now? She needs to be there for you.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
You bury your face in your pillow and continue to bleed tears.
But after one month, I started to move on
For the last month, Karlie has been trying to get you to go out with her. For the first couple of weeks after Dean left, you were bedridden and depressed. Then, that fourth week, Karlie managed to convince you to go out. Dean clearly isn’t coming back. You have no idea where he is or if he’s even alive. All you know about him is that he does dangerous work with his brother, which has him gone for up to an entire week.
“You look beautiful,” Karlie grins when she sees.
“Thanks.” You grab the end of your flowy dress and pull it down. “It’s not too short, is it?”
“No, it’s perfect.”
“I’m not looking for anything tonight, okay? I don’t plan on taking anyone home.”
“I know. We’re just gonna go out, have some drinks, and get away from this house.”
You’re not sure if you want to go out, but it’s time you get off your ass. Karlie drives you two to the nearest bar that’s not overly packed, but has more people than you thought it would.
She finds a spot at the bar and orders drinks for you two while you look around. There is a pool table in the back where a couple is playing against each other. The man has his arms around the girl as he “shows” her how to shoot the ball into the pocket. Tears brim in your eyes when you see yourself and Dean doing the same thing.
His arms felt so strong and safe around you.
“Hey, you okay?” Karlie asks.
You blink away the tears and nod. “Yeah, I’m good.” You take the drink from her. “Thanks.”
“This is going to be good for you, Y/N. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you will get better.”
“What would I do without you?”
“Die,” she jokes.
To that, you laugh and bring the drink to your lips. You have to believe that you’ll be able to move on.
And after two, I felt alright
One thing you told Dean you wanted to do was go back to school. You had gotten your associate's degree in general studies because you didn’t know what you wanted to do. Then your parents died, and something like college didn’t seem so important.
Now it is.
At thirty, you’ve enrolled yourself in university, and today is the first day of school. It’s kind of nerve-racking. You still don’t know what you want to do, but you can’t stay at home anymore. Yes, you still live with Karlie, but at least you’re not cooped up in bed anymore.
The first day is always easy and laid back, so you don’t expect to have a lot of stuff to do. However, the professors gave out the syllabus for the class, and you can see the assignments that are going to be due soon. Better get on it now than wait for the last minute.
Once you’re back at home, you’re inside your room with the blinds open, allowing natural light to shine in your room. Your textbooks are open beside you, and you’re scribbling notes into your notebook.
“Y/N? You home?” Karlie calls out from downstairs.
“In my room!” you call back.
Soft music is pouring from your speakers, so you can hear Karlie’s footsteps come up the stairs. She appears in the doorway of your room and smiles thoughtfully.
“What’s up?” you ask.
“You look good.” You look down at your sweats and tank top with a frown. “Not your clothes. You look… healthier. Like you’re happy.”
“Not fully, but I’m getting there,” you smile.
“I’m glad. It’s good to see you this way.”
Then three months in, you were off my mind
The day seems warmer today. It feels good to be at school. One month into it, and you feel like your best self. Homework is done, tests are completed, and you’ve studied your ass off for the test you’ve just taken for your last class.
You’re walking into the cafeteria, looking around for a good place to eat when you hear your name being called.
You turn around and see a guy jogging up to you. He looks familiar, but you can’t quite place him.
“Hi, do I know you?”
“Sorry, I’m your partner for the project we have. I didn’t catch you after class.”
“Oh, right. What’s your name?”
“Cody.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Cody.”
Cody takes a piece of paper from his pocket and hands it to you. “This is my number. You know, if you want to get together for the project. Or not, whatever.”
He’s stuttering and blushing, and it’s kind of cute. You take the number and put it in your pocket. “Thanks, Cody. I’ll text you later.”
“Do you have a free period?”
“Yeah, my next class doesn’t start for another hour.”
“Me, too. Mind if I join you for lunch?” You stare at Cody, and he mistakes that for you being creeped out by him. “Feel free to tell me to fuck off or something. Sorry. I should go.”
“No, it’s okay.” Cody stops and looks at you. “I’d love to have lunch with you.”
“Cool,” he smiles. “What are you having?”
“I’m thinking some pizza.”
You two get into line and chat about your classes. Once you get your food, you find an empty table and sit with him.
“I was kind of glad I got you as a partner, if I’m being honest.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?” you ask after you swallow.
“You’re just really pretty, and I like it when you smile.”
Your heart flutters at his compliment, and you take another bite of your pizza to try and hide your smile. Thankfully, he doesn’t press on the issue. Cody is nice, cute, and sweet. Having him as a partner will be a good thing.
And month four and five, I was living my life
I was better and didn't have to try
Not to think of you, until you reached out
And said, "Remember that night?"
After that project was over, you and Cody kept in touch. Toward the end of the semester, he asked you out on a date. To Karlie’s surprise, you said yes. You had a lot of fun with Cody, and he treated you like a damn queen.
Now it’s been about a month of dating him, and you couldn’t be happier. The semester is over, so you’re on a small break before the next semester starts. You and Cody are pursuing the same degree, so you have a couple of classes together next semester.
You and Cody haven’t had sex yet, but you like that you’re taking it slow. It’s better for you to take it at your own pace instead of jumping into things so quickly. The passion is there, just slowly building.
After a date at the mini golf place, Cody drives you home. Karlie has to be up early in the morning, so she might be asleep. The house is dark, except for the table lamp she kept on for you.
Cody gets out of the car and opens the passenger door for you, and you take his hand as you get out. He doesn’t let go of your hand as he walks you to your front door.
“Thank you for taking me out. I had a lot of fun.”
“Me, too.”
He runs his fingers through your hair, and you lean your head into his touch. He trails his fingers down your jaw before pulling you in. You meet him halfway and kiss him tenderly. It’s crazy how the butterflies in your stomach flutter happily whenever he kisses you. You’ll never tire of this.
“Keep this up, and I’ll invite you inside. I don’t think Karlie will appreciate that,” you mutter against his lips.
He kisses you twice before pulling away. “Shame.”
“Maybe next time.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” He steps back without taking his eyes off you. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Bright and early.” He starts later than you do, but he loves driving you to school. “I’ll come with coffee.”
“My hero,” you sing.
You unlock your front door and step inside. When you close the door, Cody walks back to his car, gets in, and drives off. You toe off your shoes and leave them by the door before turning off the lamp and tiptoing upstairs. Never did you ever think that you’d be here. You were a different person five months ago.
Broken.
Cody found all the pieces of yourself and expertly put them back together.
You can’t lose your smile, even as you walk into your room. You toss your phone onto your bed and walk into the bathroom connected to your room to wash off your makeup. When you’re done, you hear your phone chirp.
You bounce over to the phone, thinking it’s Cody.
It’s not.
No, the name wipes the smile off your face completely. Your knees buckle from underneath you, and you fall onto your bed. The grip on your phone tightens so much that your skin turns white.
How dare he message you? You’ve healed. You’ve moved on from him. You were getting better.
Remember that night? Dean Winchester has messaged you.
Of course, you fucking do. All of that healing goes away in an instant, and your entire world comes crashing down around you.
Some wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word.
In this case, three of them.
The day after you had reached out
I was broken for the second time around
I prayed on the third day that I would be okay
That I'd forget you were ever mine
Karlie walks into the house to hear you crying. She drops whatever she is holding and races up the stairs.
“Y/N? Are you okay?” She pushes your door open and sees you bawling your eyes out on your bed. “I swear, if Cody hurt you, I’m gonna kick his ass.”
“It’s not him,” you sob.
She walks into the room and sits on the edge of your bed. “What happened?”
You don’t want to talk about it, so you push your phone over to her. She grabs it and reads the message you haven’t stopped thinking about. It took you three months to get over Dean, and now you hope it’ll take three days to get over him.
You thought you were doing really well, but it’s crazy how the right words from the right person can shatter someone’s world to pieces.
In a matter of seconds, you remember the feel of Dean’s arms around you, the feel of his touch, the way he made you feel special, and the love you had for him. That passion was intense and fast. You were jumping steps to get to his heart, not caring how it would hurt you in the end.
In a matter of seconds, you miss him all over again.
Karlie curses under her breath and gets up with your phone in her hand. You don’t even stop her from walking out of your room, and she closes the door on your heartbreaking sobs. Her fingers fly across your screen, and she puts the phone to her ear.
“Hey, Y/N,” Cody greets with a smile in his voice.
“Hey, it’s Karlie.”
“Oh, is everything okay?”
“No, it’s not. You need to come over.”
“I’m on my way.”
Oh, I don't think you realize
How long I had to fight to be living my life
To get better and never have to try
Not to think of you until you reached out
And said, "Remember that night?"
Cody shows up ten minutes later, and Karlie greets him at the door.
“What happened?” he asks.
“I’ll let her tell you the details, but there was a guy before you, and she fell hard and fast for him. She was doing really well, and then he messaged her last night.”
Cody doesn’t need to hear more. He pushes past Karlie and heads up to your room. You barely register the door opening and closing, but you do feel someone climb into bed with you. Too large to be your sister.
“Go away,” you say, burying your face into your pillow.
“No, I won’t.”
You don’t want Cody to see you like this. How will it look for you to be in tears over an ex-love? Some of these tears are now for the guilt you’re feeling for crying over Dean in the first place. Cody deserves better.
“I’m here.”
Cody pulls you into his arms, and you turn so you’re facing him instead of your pillow. You clutch his shirt and cry into his chest. He doesn’t say anything as he rubs your back in comfort. He won’t force you to talk if you don’t want to. All he wants is for you to know that he's here and he’s not going anywhere.
After about thirty minutes, you’ve calmed down enough to talk.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper.
“Don’t be.”
“I am. You don’t deserve me crying over another man.”
“Grief comes at us in all forms at random times. Karlie didn’t tell me much, but from what I’ve gathered, he broke your heart?”
“That’s putting it mildly. I shouldn’t even be like this. I was only with him for a couple of months.”
“Did you love him?” You look away from him, guilt shining in your eyes. He doesn’t let you look away with the way his fingers are gently gripping your jaw. “Don’t hide from me. It’s okay if you did.”
“I did,” you whisper painfully. “I know I shouldn’t have fallen for him, but he made it so easy. He broke me and left me with the pieces. It took me a long time to get over him. I was doing better. I met you…” You inhale sharply and look into his blue eyes. “I want you to know I am over him. I am. It’s just…”
“You’re not healed,” he finishes for you.
“I thought I was, but I guess I’m not.”
“Do you want to tell me what happened?”
You don’t want to talk about it, but maybe you should. Cody has been so understanding; he deserves the truth. You grab your phone, bring up the message, and show him.
“What happened that night?”
We went for a drive, 2:30 in the morning
I kissed you, it was pouring
We held each other tight before the night was over
You looked over your shoulder
Oh, I was doing fine
You said, "Remember that night?
Remember that night?"
Oh, I was doing fine
You said, "Remember that night?
Remember that night?"
Rain splatters against the Impala’s windshield. The headlights cut through the darkness, but it doesn’t allow for much visibility. Dean doesn’t slow down because he’s driven these roads thousands of times.
It’s two in the morning, neither of you can sleep, driving around like hopeless fools in love. You two had just gotten back from a romantic getaway. Dean took you up north to play in the snow, and you didn’t want the night to end.
“Where are we going?” you ask.
“Anywhere. Nowhere. Away from here.” Dean turns the radio on and smiles at you. “Just sit back and relax, sweetheart!”
Rock music plays through the speakers, and you scoot closer to Dean. He doesn’t hesitate to wrap his right arm around you, keeping his left hand casually on the wheel. He kisses the side of your head without taking his eyes off the road.
For an hour, Dean drives around in the rain. He finds a secluded place to park, so that’s where you two are now. Rain is pelting the roof, mixing with the sounds of soft rock coming lowly from the speakers. You and Dean are in each other’s arms, just staring out into the darkness.
“You want to talk about what’s bothering you?” you ask.
“How do you know something is bothering me?”
You reach up and smooth the small bump between his eyebrows. “You have a worried look on your face. You can talk about it if you want.”
Dean sighs and thinks about what he wants to share to you. “My brother an I are caught up in some shit right now, and it’s taking a toll on him more than it should.”
“What’s going on?”
“Recently, we’ve taken a kid under our wing. He’s a good kid, but his dad… Well, he’s like Lucifer.” He chuckles at the joke he’s made, but you don’t. “His dad is bad, and Sam can’t help but take responsibility for him.”
“Well Sam news to understand that no one is responsible for someone’s actions except for that person.”
“Yeah, try telling him that.” Dean looks at you and admires the flecks of color in your eyes. He can’t believe he told you that. It’s not much, but it’s more than he's allowed himself to tell anyone. “As his older brother, I try to be strong enough for him, but it’s hard. He’s not the only one who feels responsible.”
“You’re pretty amazing, you know that?”
“That’s all you sweetheart.”
You lean in and kiss him once, twice, and three times before Dean takes over. He slides his hands into your hair and tilts his head to deepen the kiss. Pleasure spikes down your body, and you find yourself curling into his body.
“I have to tell you something,” Dean whispers.
“What?”
“I’ve never felt this way about another woman before. I’m in uncharted waters here.”
“If it makes you feel any better, so am I.” You rub your nose against his, and you kiss him slowly. “Dean…”
“What?” he whispers back.
“I think… No, I know… I’m falling in love with you.”
Dean pulls back and looks deep into your eyes. He traces his fingers down your cheek, your jaw, and to your neck. “I’m getting there.”
You and Dean spend another hour in each other's arms, listening to the rain and kissing. When Dean arrives at your house to drop you off, the rain is barely a trickle.
“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“I’ll be waiting,” he grins.
You get out of the car and walk to your front door. After getting the door unlocked and open, you turn to look at Dean. He smiles at you from over his shoulder before driving away.
Talking about that night lifts some of the pressure from your chest, but it’s mostly Cody who lifts it for you. He wipes your tears with his thumbs, and he kisses your lips softly.
“I don’t know much about him or what went down between you two, but when I tell you I’m not leaving, I mean it.” Cody wraps his arms around you, and you rest your head on his chest. “I’m not leaving, baby.”
Dean Winchester, as passionate as being with him can be, is only a chapter in your book. A chapter that deserves to be closed. Cody is the start of a new one, and it’s one that you intend to keep living in for a long time.
x
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(being a supe with powerful regeneration isn't great. Being a breeding vessel for Vought isn't so great either)
Part 2 here
Being a supe wasn't as amazing as everyone thought it was. At least not for you. You were a regenerative supe, one that could regenerate faster then any other supe. Eventually Vought realised you were the perfect opportunity to breed supes. You couldn't die, age and you would heal straight after childbirth. You'd forgotten about escaping a long time ago and now you were treated quite well. You had a nice apartment, food, money and all the clothes and designer bags you could ask for. Maybe it didn't matter if you had to be constantly pregnant. You were about 7 months along in this pregnancy. You'd lost count how many babies you'd had, you didn't even see them as living beings anymore. It was easier that way. You'd began popping out babies around the 70s, even having a few of soldier boys children. The one you were carrying now was Homelanders. They often used his sperm considering he was the most powerful in the seven. Only thing you hated was that Homelander became possessive over you once he learned you would carry most of his children. You made your way down to the labs in the morning. They needed to check how the baby was going, you were used to it by now. You made it to the lab and saw Homelander waiting. You groaned and rubbed your head. 'You're absolutely glowing, my darling. Your breasts are looking...full,' he said as he licked his lips. You rolled your eyes and laid down on one of the beds.
'You don't need to be here for this,' you said. He chuckled and began to rub your stomach as you relaxed on the hospital bed.
'I'm not busy and I want to be there for you, mommy,' he said. You groaned and rubbed your face again.
'No! What did I say about that goddamn name?' you said as his hand stopped.
'Fine, fine. I won't use it,' he said. You rolled your eyes as the doctor entered.
'Looking glowing like usual, my dear,' she said as you closed your eyes and let her start the ultrasound. Homelander stood beside you and watched as the image of the baby showed up. 'Still a perfectly healthy little girl. She's going to be a big girl, too.'
'Definitely my kid then,' Homelander said with a smirk. You rolled your eyes again and looked at him.
'Don't you have that podcast thing to do today?' you asked.
'Yes, it's not for another hour,' he said. You wanted to face palm, another hour with him around wasn't ideal.
After the doctor told you the baby was still nice and healthy you wanted to go back to your apartment and enjoy a bath, but of course Homelander had other ideas. You were preparing to leave when he grabbed you from behind and buried his face in the crook of your neck. 'You're so big and swollen,' he whispered.
'Why do you make everything sound so gross?' you asked as he began kissing your neck. You pulled away and looked at him. 'What's the one rule?'
'Not to have sex. I'm not going to have sex, I just want to touch you. Is that a crime?' he asked.
'Sweetheart, this whole thing is just a business transaction. We won't even know the child, it'll get shipped off to God knows where like usual.'
'I know, but you're still carrying my child. That gives me the right to touch you,' he said as he moved closer.
'You do realise I've given birth to your siblings? And that I've fucked your father?' you asked. His jaw clenched a little before he smirked.
'I'm very aware. I wish you had given birth to me,' he said as he licked his lips again. You groaned and shoved past him.
'Nope! Not dealing with your gross shit today!' you shouted as you left him alone in the lab.
--
After some relaxing time alone you headed to the gym to do some light exercise, it usually helped when you felt uncomfortable because of the baby. You were walking on the treadmill when Firecracker entered. You groaned and continued walking. You couldn't stand her one bit and often had to stop yourself from throwing her out the window.
'The amazing mother to be! Shouldn't you be taking it easy, darling?' she said. You rolled your eyes like you did almost 100 times a day.
'Exercise is good for my body and also for the baby,' you said without looking at her.
'You and homelander spend a lot of time together.'
'Yes, well I would rather it be the opposite and he stop bothering me,' you said as she chuckled.
'You're quite hold, aren't you? I bet you wouldn't say that if he were here.'
'I would, and I have. He doesn't scare me, he actually listens to me,' you said. She stepped closer and stood beside the treadmill.
'Do you love him?' she asked. You looked at her in disgust.
'God, no. He's like a goddamn annoying puppy. Our relationship is just business.'
'And that's why he's always touching you? For business?' she asked.
'Homelander is possessive. Especially when I'm carrying his child. You know what he's like,' you said. Firecracker reached up and turned off the treadmill. You turned to her and smiled. 'Have you ever been slapped by an eighty year old pregnant woman?' you asked as she looked at you in confusion.
'You're eighty? I knew you didn't age, but that's quite the wisdom you must have.' You stepped off the treadmill and wiped some of the sweat off your forehead.
'What do you want? I'm not in the mood.'
'I just want to understand why homelander likes you so much.'
'And I told you, I'm carrying his baby. Plus, I knew him when he was a child. I met him a few times and being without a family he probably had a small obsession with the pregnant women,' you said. She crossed her arms and looked at you.
'You knew him as a child and now you're having his child? It's a little sick isn't it?'
'You're apart of vought and you're surprised they would do something like that? Open your eyes, sweetheart,' you said as you pushed past her. 'Don't bother me again.'
--
You made it back to your apartment and fell asleep on the couch. When you awoke again you felt groggy and like you’d been asleep for years. You groaned and opened your eyes to see you weren’t in your apartment anymore.
‘As beautiful as the day we met,’ a voice said as you glanced up to see Soldier boy. You groaned and collapsed back against the bed.
‘Why couldn’t you stay dead?’
‘That’s really what you want to say to me right now, huh? Did you even notice I was missing?’ He asked. You looked at him and rolled your eyes.
‘Yes, and I prayed every night your death was brutal,’ you said before he slapped you across the face. Just as he did so two other man walked in.
‘Woah! Let’s not hit the pregnant woman!’ The younger man said as he rushed forward. You looked at him and held your hands out.
‘Help me sit up,’ you said. He carefully pulled you into a sitting position and your hand rested on your pregnant stomach.
‘This is the slut I was talking about,’ Soldier Boy said as you rolled your eyes.
‘Alright, let’s not go shoutin’ slurs at the lady,’ the older man said as you looked at him. You took a moment before realisation dawned on you.
‘Butcher…’
‘So, you do know me, luv. I’m flattered,’ he said. You sighed and looked around trying to find something to tie your hair up with. You groaned and reached behind to tie your hair into a knot instead. ‘You seem quite casual for someone who’s been kidnapped.’
‘Yeah well, not much shocks me these days,’ you said. You looked at Ben and he looked like he wanted to slap you again. ‘What, Ben? You want me to run into your arms? Want me to cry and say thank god you’re alive?’
‘It would be nice. I didn’t realise I mattered to little to you,’ he grumbled.
‘Forgive me for not forming a connection with the man I was forced to spread my legs for every nine months,’ you said. Hughie’s face went red as he quickly looked away.
‘Heard your having my son’s baby now. That’s a bit sick, isn’t it?’ He said. You rolled your eyes and felt like punching him.
‘Well, thankfully now they just inseminate me instead of making me get fucked,’ you said. Soldier boy stepped forward and Hughie moved to your side just in case.
‘I bet you’d still love it, huh? You miss my cum between,’ you quickly cut him off by kicking him in the nuts. You looked at Billy.
‘British man, slap him for me.’
‘Well, I’m tryna get the bloke on my side,’ he said. You raised an eyebrow before Hughie helped you stand up.
‘Fine, I’ll do it.’ As Ben stood up you slapped him hard against the face. He went to grab you but Butcher quickly stepped in and used a tranquiliser on him. Ben fell to the ground as you sighed and placed your hands on your hips. ‘So, why have you kidnapped me?’
‘We’re aware you…breed supes for Vought. We need to put a stop to that. It was soldier boy who told us about you and wanted you out of Vought,’ Hughie said.
‘I bet he said I was this gorgeous babe with a great pair of tits?’ You said.
‘Along those lines, yes,’ Hughie muttered.
‘Yes, well I’m sure he didn’t bring up the part where he used to request I be sedated when he would have sex with me because he “didn’t enjoy my sounds of pain when he was too rough” or something,’ you said. Hughie stared at you in shock. Billy stepped forward and looked at you.
‘I’m gonna take one guess and say you haven’t had a say in any of these pregnancies?’ He asked.
‘You’re smarter than you look. No, none were my choice. I can’t even remember how many babies I’ve had by now. After the first four I stopped caring about the children so I wouldn’t get hurt,’ you said. Hughie looked at you sadly.
‘I’m guessing they take the children away from you?’
‘Yeah, but it’s not like I want them anyway. Not when they’re a product of…you know,’ you said. The two men nodded and were glad you weren’t as brainwashed as they thought you would be.
‘So, the one you’re carrying now is Homelander’s?’ Billy asked.
‘Yeah, this is the third one that’s his. I’m just glad I don’t have to have sex with the fucking creep,’ you said. Billy chuckled and led you out of the room where Ben still laid unconscious. You groaned and sat on the crappy couch as Hughie went to fetch you some water.
‘You hate the bastard, then?’
‘Yep, he’s always touching me and being weird around me. At least he actually listens to me,’ you said. Billy sat across from you.
‘He bloody listens to you?’
‘Yeah, he’s a fucking man child with mommy issues. I’m the closest thing to a mother figure he’s ever had,’ you said. Billy looked at you in disgust.
‘He sees you as a mother figure and still wants to touch you in that way?’
‘Yes, are you surprised?’ You asked as Billy scoffed.
‘No, I know he’s a deranged freak.’
Hughie returned with some water and you smiled. ‘Thank you, sweetheart,’ you said as you noticed him blushing a little. Billy chuckled and looked at you again.
‘Are you this maternal with everyone?’
‘I’m well and truly old enough to be your mother, Billy.’
‘Bloody hell, when were you born?’ He asked.
‘1946, in September to be exact,’ you said as they stared at you in shock.
‘You’re bloody eighty!?’ Billy said as you laughed.
‘Hey, I’m seventy nine.’
Hughie chuckled and sat down next to Billy.
‘Well, you look bloody good for your age,’ Billy said. You smiled and took some small sips of water.
‘What’s the plan then, boys? Can’t exactly kill me,’ you said.
‘We’re gonna keep you away from Vought,’ Billy said.
‘And what about the baby?’
‘We plan to…use it to our advantage,’ Hughie said. You sat forward more and looked at them.
‘How do you plan on using a baby to your advantage?’
‘Well, the kid will have powers. Plus, it’ll be a good bargaining tool for Vought and Homelander,’ Billy said. You thought for a moment.
‘I don’t know… Do you really want a baby around?’
‘Well, we’re going to set up a hide out. Somewhere Vought won’t find you. Somewhere you can take care of the child,’ Hughie said.
‘And I’m guessing I don’t get a say in this?’ You asked.
‘We could try abortion, luv. But considering the baby is a supe we don’t know what would happen,’ Billy said. You sighed and nodded, knowing he was right. You placed your hand on your stomach.
‘I don’t want to get my hopes up,’ you whispered.
‘What do you mean?’ Hughie asked.
‘I don’t want to be excited about finally getting to keep my own baby just for someone to take her from me,’ you whispered. Hughie sat beside you and offered you a smile.
‘We’re going to do everything we can to protect you and the baby. We won’t even let soldier boy know the location. He’s useful, but we won’t let him near you,’ Hughie said. You smiled and took his hand.
‘You’re a good kid… Thank you. I guess it’s worth a shot. I’ve been nothing but a damn breeding machine since the 80s, may as well risk whatever I have left,’ you said. Hughie smiled and you felt the baby start to kick, you guided Hughie’s hand to your stomach so he could feel it. He chuckled when he felt the movement against his hand.
‘So, it’s a girl?’ He asked.
‘Yeah, she’s healthy. The doctor says she’s gonna be a damn big baby too,’ you said. Billy looked at you with a fond smile. He knew he couldn’t protect Becca when she was pregnant, so he was going to do everything he could to protect you. You heard a noise coming from the room and Billy groaned and stood up.
‘That’ll be soldier boy waking up. I’ll handle it.’
summary; deep hears someone--something call for him from the depths of the atlantic ocean.
word count; 1,479
pairing; the deep x siren!reader
my first smut piece, pls be nice <3 (tbh im proud of this one lol i got carried away)
warnings; the deep/kevin, penetration, p in v, deepthroating, sub!deep x dom!reader
NOT SFW!! MINORS DNI!!
✧ ˚ · .
Living in the deep blue can be isolating at times.
You’ve had your fair share of encounters with horrid, desperate men, luring them into the open whilst they’re vulnerable, taking what’s rightly yours.
They should know better.
You feel the ripple of the water wrap around your body as you flow through the sea, searching for something—anything—to pass the time. Until something catches your eye.
Or someone.
An emerald green and gold figure flows past you, causing the water to ripple and move you gently. The figure stops in its place, a face staring right toward you. He’s far enough away that you hum a melody, your vocal chords vibrating against your stomach as if you’re guiding him by echolocation. A hypnotic chorus leaves your mouth, entrancing him.
He swims toward you, his eyes locked onto you.
You’re nothing he’s ever seen before. An ethereal being floats before him, scales shimmering against the reflections of the moonlight, your hair floating gracefully; each strand has its own movement.
As he approaches you, his hands tenderly touch your waist, fingers tracing over your gills and the top of your scales that meet your hips. Deep’s eyes meet yours with pure wonder and excitement. “I thought your species was a myth…” He begins. You blink slowly at him, an ominous smirk grows upon your face. He’s too… ambitious.
You throw him back with force, a grunt slipping from his throat as he gapes at you with hurt and confusion. “What’re you doing?” He huffs, moving closer toward you again. You gaze upon him, humming.
“You’re eager.” You whisper, your voice practically moving through him. It’s almost like he can feel your voice, as if it’s in his head. But you’re right there, your mouth moving. How is this happening?
You swim toward him, the tip of your tail grazing his shin lightly, your hand travelling toward his lower torso. “Did you think I’d make it that easy?” You tease, your lips close to his ear. You can sense the goosebumps running down his body, a breath hitching in his throat.
He’s paralyzed. Whether it’s with fear or because of you, something pangs in your chest, a feeling of satisfaction and thrill. The Deep shakes his head.
“You want me, don’t you?” you purr, your fingers leading from his torso up to his jawline, making his head move to the side, guiding as you circle around him. He nods, his pupils enlarged with need, his hand moving toward you once more. His fingers trace over the ridges where your scales meet your smooth skin, his breathing haltering despite being submerged. You hum, the sound vibrating through the water.
The Deep groans. He’s desperate. You laugh at him, circling around him once more. “Patience,” you murmur, and you glide your fingernails across his torso, down toward his member. You decide to close the distance between you both, feeling him hard against your skin.
“Please. F-fuck, please.” He begs. You tut. “Poor thing,” you keep your voice low and syrupy. “Do you want me to make you feel good?” You taunt him, and he nods with frenzy. The corners of your lips curl into a smile, pulling him in so your lips are barely touching.
“I have something to show you.” You move away for a slight second, revealing a slick, neat slit below your belly button. His gaze darts down to it, the scales shimmering as they part slightly. His expression darkens as deep as his fantasies are; a wicked smirk latches onto his face. Something wild and enthralling flickers behind his eyes, his lips part as if in a silent worship.
His fingers trail along the slit, fingertips edging themselves in, gasping as you feel the light pressure. He removes his fingers before removing his pants, exposing himself before you. Something about this makes your heart skip a beat—something different from the norm. You blink helplessly at his throbbing dick, the tip a deep pink. You blush, seeing how hard he’s getting for you, the slightest move and you’re afraid he’ll combust right there.
Tracing your fingers from the base of his cock to the tip, you rub your thumb over his slit, causing his head to toss back and let out a strangled moan.
“All of this? For me?” You drawl, and he sighs in agreement. You align yourself with him, his tip gingerly touching your entrance. Placing both hands on either side of his face, your palms rest under his jaw. He rests his forearm under the small of your back, inching himself into you.
It feels as if he’s completely stretched you out, but yet there’s more. Each movement of his releases a moan inside of you that you didn’t know was there. He’s watching you with real carnality. Lust.
He thrusts in, causing you to latch onto the nape of his neck, digging your fingernails in. He gasps in shock, but doesn’t pull away. In fact, he thrusts harder with predation. The Deeps cock slips in and out of you, filling you and emptying you with each movement. The thickness of him comes as a surprise; the rocking of his hips moves faster and faster. You press your lips to his, sloppy and needy. The Deep pulls away.
“F—fuck,” he stutters, his movement slowing. The muscles in his biceps define as he grips onto your hips, shaking the feeling away. “You don’t get to slow down.” You threaten, and he looks at you vulnerably. His breathing has faltered and his chest rises and falls.
He plunges into you once more, his tip grinding against your wall, the base of his cock buried so deep inside of you, you wish there was more of him to receive. You push yourself down on him, your slit throbbing with ache and pleasure. “I-I’m close…” He pleads, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration. “Not yet.” You whisper, clenching around him just to hear him whimper more. And he does.
“Beg for it.”
“Please, oh my God, please. I’m so close.” He cries, his bottom lip wobbles ever so slightly, and you pull yourself off of him. He glares at you with consternation. Even under water, you can tell his dick is sopping with cum.
He doesn’t say a word. You readjust so you’re facing his pelvis, sticking your tongue out, the tip of it meeting his slit. Your tongue is long enough to reach the base of his cock, taking all of him as he reaches the back of your throat.
Being a siren, you have little to no gag reflex. Your autonomy isn’t exactly the same as a human, but more like a spirit residing in an empty vessel. You have needs, of course, which explains the autonomy waist down. Other than that, you’re just a fucktoy with a brain and a mouth. An ungodly one at that.
You tighten your lips around his cock, pressing the back of your tongue tight against the top of his dick that lays inside your mouth. The ridges from the roof of your mouth cause him to shudder under your control. His hands find your hair, gripping relentlessly as you suck him off. The Deeps whimpers and cries are what send you over the edge.
Opening your slit again, you push yourself onto him, a loud groan escapes his throat. You moan, the hum vibrates against your chest. He’s losing himself in you, as if you didn’t just stop him from releasing himself. His breathing is ragged, every thrust and slick grind pushes him closer and closer. “Fuck,” his voice is strained and needy. Desperate.
And that’s when you take exactly what’s yours.
“I-I’m gonna—” He breathes, spilling inside of you. A deep, shuddering force draws from the center of his chest, his power—his very being—rushes into you like a crashing wave. A tsunami. It makes your body hum with a newfound strength. Your skin glows an electric blue, a glimmer of ethereal energy flashes before him, coursing through your veins.
His tasteful moans turn into something full of anguish and hurt. His grip on you weakens as he floats away from you.
“W-What have you done…? I—”
The Deep pauses. A sense of panic fills him as he suddenly can’t breathe under water anymore. His eyes dagger into you. You swim toward him, hand reaching for his cheek. You stroke him, shushing him as he tilts his head at you. “You gave yourself to me, didn’t you?”
He blinds slowly, trying to move, to think. But he can’t. His movement is helpless. His connection to the ocean—the very thing that made him exactly who he was—is gone.
Watching him is amusing, seeing him scurry away toward the shore. He’ll probably make it back.
You slip away, into the depths of the Atlantic ocean, your body beating with stolen power as you anticipate your next victim.
cw. balcony sex, semi-public sex, jack and reader had sex already that night, fem! reader, unprotected sex, established relationship, fluffy sex, jack has anxiety and you're the best thing for it, creampie, big dick! jack, implied size kink, praise.
synopsis. jack needs to de-stress so he can enjoy his vacation with you properly.
jack's just had so much on his mind all day. duties and impending tasks he feels like he left behind in pittsburgh weighing on him. did he really get everything done before leaving? would his residents be okay without him? all of it weighs on his mind, making sleep an impossibility.
with a sigh, he leaves your shared bed and goes out to lean his body over the balcony, hoping the fresh air and the quiet as the world sleeps would help soothe him.
it doesn't, unfortunately. not even the breeze and smell of the ocean take his mind off of work.
you wander out of bed a moment later, having been roused by his heavy breathing and pacing back and forth just outside your room. you slip on your robe to help stifle the evening wind from biting at your skin, and go out to join him.
your arms wrap around his waist from behind, and you nuzzle your face into his back, inhaling his scent. jack lets out a heavy sigh and holds there, relaxing at your touch, before turning around to face you, leaning down to press his lips gently to yours. "mmm... why'd you leave bed?" he hums against your mouth, strong arms wrapping tightly around you.
you smooch his lips softly and sigh at the pleasant minty taste on him. "i saw you couldn't sleep and wanted to make sure you were okay." your voice is breathy and sweet. "what's on your mind?"
he shakes his head and kisses you again, cupping your face and dragging his tongue over the seam of your lips. "too much," is the last he gets out, before he deepens it once more, his tongue diving into your mouth and laving over yours hungrily.
you can't get enough of him.
his hands move up and under your robe to cup your tits. he groans at how much he can feel through the fabric of your nightdress, and can't seem to hold back any longer. he just needs to be inside you right now, needs to expel his stress and frustrations on his sweet wife so he can sleep soundly. he'll talk about it later. right now, he needs relief.
"tell you after," he promises softly, spinning you around to press your front against the balcony railing, his lips dusting over your cheek. "may i, my love?"
you nod softly, already wet and sensitive from him fucking you a few hours ago. he brushes your robe to one side and hikes up your dress, before freeing his cock from the confines of his pants. groaning, he spreads your ass cheek apart from the other with one of his broad hands, using his other hand to wrap it around the base of his cock and align the head with your puffy slit, rubbing it up and down in little teasing movements.
"its all swollen," he whispers in your ear, getting his cock hard and wet from swiping it through your folds. "you have the prettiest pussy, did you know that? so soft and wet..."
your teeth catch your lower lip to stifle some of your moans, but it's hard when jack just makes you feel so good. you wiggle your hips back to try and swallow up some of his cock in your eager pussy, and he grins softly, delivering a gentle smack to your plush ass.
then,he slowly pushes into you, easing his cock into your tight hole while feeling your walls expand to make space for him.
you whine, feeling achingly full, but jack is quick to soothe you. "easy, easy... 'm only halfway in," he whispers in your ear, grunting softly and nudging his hips forward slowly. he can never get over how tight you are around him, how much his cock stretches you open each time he fucks you.
finally, he bottoms out. you can practically feel him in your guts from this angle, and a loud, whiny moan leaves your lips.
"gotta keep it down, sweetheart," your husband scolds playfully. "other people are staying here too, remember?"
easy for him to say.
still, you manage a nod, tugging your lip between your teeth to quell the scream threatening to leave you when his cock wedges deeper inside you, smushing against your sweet spot with every labored pump of his hips.
he's going painfully slow right now, clearly trying to savor the moment with you. you have an inkling that he really needed this, a little more time with you, inside you, before sleeping. and slowly, you can start to feel the stress weighing on him earlier slip away, as he starts to groan and focus all his attention on you and fucking into your pretty pussy with sloppy, eager thrusts.
"mnhhh- right there," you say, jolting a little when he angles his thrusts so he can hit your g-spot with each thrust.
"right there, baby?" jack echoes, softening his voice for you. "you need me right here?" he tucks a hand under you and pushes against the faint indent in your tummy that forms whenever he thrusts his cock in you balls deep, then gently pushes it up, putting extra pressure on your g-spot. you just feel more full as he does that, and you cry out as he just hits it perfectly, thick and heady slick leaking out of you and around his cock.
"your pussy's real grateful i did that," he laughs softly, then moans into your ear when you clamp around him, walls rippling and squeezing around his cock in retaliation to all his teasing.
you're both real close. jack's thrusts get a little faster now as he chases both his orgasm and yours, forceful thrusts of his thick cock sending your body bouncing and your tits heaving as you lean over the balcony.
but he needs you to cum first.
without hesitation, jack shifts his focus entirely to you. his thrusts become shorter but deeper, more precise. not chasing his own release but guiding you toward yours.
then, he feels the sudden, intense clench of your pussy around him and your cunt squeezing and milking his cock, trying to suck him in impossibly deeper, and you gush around him.
your body trembles beneath his, as he leans down to press his chest to your back, rutting his cock deep inside you and fucking you through your orgasm while your pussy starts to pull and wring the cum straight out of him. he cums into you with a loud groan, not stopping his movements. pushing you both through it with slow, deep rolls of his hips.
his lips brush the nape of your neck and he slowly pulls out of you with a wet pop, pushing his cum back into you with his thick fingers. you just look so pretty stuffed with him. shuddering, you relish in the warm, filling sensation of his cum plugged into you, before looking up at him through your lashes.
"you feel better now?"
he nods and presses a deep kiss to your lips, smiling against you. "wouldn't know what to do without you."
Antony star is only really good looking to me as homelander and that one Amazon movie he did with viola Davis. Blonde really is his color, just look at the material 🙂↕️
Wait yeah hold on are those bottom pictures from said movie? Might need to tune in 😭
summary: there are two things that everyone in the ER knows about you—you're incredible at your job and extremely hot. the thing that they don't know is that you're dating one of their newest residents and have been for years.
MASTERLIST
pairings: dennis whitaker x RT!reader (respiratory therapist)
cw/tags: female reader (she/her pronouns used), described as having breasts and wearing a thong and bralette, mentions of cleavage and nipples, hair long enough for the top half to be tied back in a nondescript way. established relationship, typical pitt warnings (hospitals, intubations, chest compressions, sedation drugs, etc etc), swearing, ogilvie being a freak lowkey, very very minor and casual inappropriate conduct i guess (everyone wants you badly okay is it such a crime??), garcia calls you 'hot shot,' HPV in this context stands for 'hot potato voice,' not human papillomavirus lmfao, no smut but a few sexually explicit references
takes place on the fourth of july but absolutely zero reference to any real events of season 2 so no spoilers!
the pitt needs to introduce some respiratory therapists okay or else
OTHER PARTS HERE :)
Dennis knows you’re hot, obviously. Everyone with eyes knows that you’re hot. He still sometimes can’t believe the fact that he gets to date someone like you, even though you’ve been together for years at this point. You were working in a clinic that he did one of his first medical school rotations at, and for whatever reason, you had liked him.
You got a job at PTMC a year later, and you absolutely loved the fast-paced chaos that was the ER and ICU.
When it came time for Dennis to spend a few months at the trauma centre he decided to set some ground rules, not wanting anyone to give him special treatment because they knew he was dating one of their best respiratory therapists. No, he wanted to establish himself as a good student on his own, and he didn’t want to risk anyone making fun of you for being with him, not that he told you about that reason.
You had agreed, hesitantly, but ultimately thought that it made sense to keep things at work strictly professional.
At first, that had been fine. You actually spent the vast majority of your time in the ICU, since the patients up there typically needed more oversight regarding ventilation settings, and most of the doctors in the ER were more than capable of handling emergent intubations on their own. The two of you didn’t even cross paths for the first couple weeks that he was working in the ER, which was different from when he was doing internal medicine and admitting patients to the ICU frequently.
October 30th, 2024
“Fifty-eight year old male, severe SOB and throat swelling, sats eighty-eight on non-rebreather,” The paramedic says, wheeling a gurney through the ambulance bay doors.
“Whitaker!” Samira calls, and he races over, holding his stethoscope so it doesn’t fall as he moves.
“Temp thirty-nine, difficulty swallowing, HPV,” The paramedic continues. “History of type two diabetes, hypertension, and obstructive sleep apnea.”
The patient is propped up on the gurney, not laying fully back, likely because he wouldn’t be able to breathe if he did so. Samira counts down when they make it to the trauma room, hands moving the patient onto the hospital bed. She asks the patient for his name as Whitaker starts his exam, shifting between nurses as they try to figure out what’s going on. He shines his penlight into the man’s mouth, swallows some mild panic, then speaks.
“Drooling, significant submandibular swelling, limited mouth opening,” He says. “Unable to visualize the posterior pharynx, reduced neck extension.”
Mel has her stethoscope to the man’s back, listening carefully. “Lungs sound clear, but we’ve got significant stridor.”
Dennis takes a piece of gauze to wipe away some drool from the patient’s mouth. “Unable to handle secretions.”
“Sats decreasing,” Princess says. “Down to eighty-two.”
“Okay, we’re gonna’ need to intubate, and fast,” Samira says. “Mel, you’re up.”
Mel orders ketamine and rocuronium, then positions herself by the patient’s head. It becomes extremely obvious that this intubation won’t be easy, but Mel attempts it anyway.
“There’s a lot of swelling,” She says.
“Where’s Robby?” Samira asks, and one of the nurses leaves to go find him. The video laryngoscope is inserted, but Mel genuinely can’t see anything on the screen. Sedation starts to kick in, and the patient goes limp.
“I can’t visualize the epiglottis,” Mel says, her voice still calm, but Dennis can see a small amount of panic in her expression as she attempts to insert the tube. “I can’t get it in.”
“Okay, first pass failed,” Samira adds, keeping everyone in the room up to speed. She takes a closer look at the screen, shaking her head. “Page respiratory and surgery, stat.”
Samira gives the intubation a try, but she can’t pass the tube either, and the patient is desatting quickly. “Where the hell is Robby?”
“Stuck with another patient,” Mateo says, replacing the bag over the patient’s face, squeezing it every few seconds.
Rushed footsteps echo across the linoleum floors from outside, and Dennis looks up just in time to see you push the door to the room open, the badge that reads your name and ‘RT’ over a purple background swinging back and forth from your sprint to the department. Dennis sees the way the room relaxes, thanking god that you’re the responding respiratory therapist.
He also sees how good you look.
You don’t have an undershirt on for once, and the slight v-neck of your scrubs shows off a bit more skin than usual. You somehow manage to make hospital issued scrub pants look amazing, and if he didn’t know any better he would think that they had been tailored to your body. The fabric shows off the curve of your ass perfectly.
“What’s up?” You ask, grabbing a pair of gloves, slipping into them as you move to the head of the bed.
“Fifty-eight year old male, severe mouth and neck swelling, two failed intubation attempts,” Mel explains. “Sats down to seventy.”
You do a brief exam, hands feeling up the sides of his neck and jaw, then you look inside his mouth, nodding.
“Okay, I need more pillows under his head, prop him up more,” You say. “Ears to sternal notch alignment, please.”
You take hold of the mask that Mateo was keeping pressure on, using both hands to seal it around the patient’s face as he continues to squeeze the bag. Garcia opens the door to the room, taking in the situation.
“What’s up, party people?” She asks, looking at the patient’s face. “Yikes, we should crike.”
“You know me better than that,” You counter, shifting your arms out of the way as Jesse packs pillows and blankets underneath the patients head. “Can’t let you surgeons have all the fun.”
“What’s your plan here, hot shot?” She asks, an emphasis on hot that makes Dennis look up.
“Let’s add a PEEP valve, ten centimetres,” You say, and Mel jumps into action, grabbing the piece that you’ve asked for and fitting it to the mask. “I need someone on suction, too.”
“Yep, got it,” Dennis says, scrambling a bit with the tube, his hands shaking ever-so-slightly. You’re calmer than everyone else in the room.
“Sats up to ninety-two,” Princess says, eyes flicking over the monitor.
He doesn’t miss the way you look at Garcia, a small smirk on your face as she holds her hands up, letting you work.
“Okay, let’s try intubation again with a bougie,” You say. “Don’t stop with that suction, Whitaker. Princess, can you take over for me?”
The nurse takes your place, positioning her hands over the mask exactly how yours had been. Jesse hands you the laryngoscope, which you toy with for a second, turning the light on and making sure you can see the monitor. Princess pulls the mask off once you’re in place, and you slide it into the patient's mouth.
“Dr. Mohan, can you put some pressure right here.” You put your free hand on the patient’s neck, and Samira moves to copy the action. “Good, right against the thyroid cartilage. Press towards the spine.”
Samira follows the instructions with ease, doing exactly what you’ve asked.
“Up and to the patient’s right a bit,” You add, keeping your eyes on the monitor as you hold steady. Samira adjusts. “Okay, perfect, hold it there. Bougie.”
You take the bougie in hand, and Dennis keeps the suction going, trying to keep the field clear of fluids. You don’t look at the screen for a moment, sliding it past the tracheal rings on feel alone, and then you glance back over, confirming the placement. Jesse hands you the tube when you reach your hand out, and you slip it over the bougie, inserting it into the airway. Dennis watches it on the monitor, a rush of pride swelling over him.
“I’m in,” You say, pulling the bougie out. Mateo attaches the bag to the end of the tube, and the monitor’s beeping comes to a stop as his sats hold steady. "Yellow on end-tidal."
“Sats up to ninety-eight,” Mel says, turning to look at you. “That was awesome.”
She raises her hand, giving you a high-five, which makes you grin.
“Thanks for the assist,” Samira adds, the sentence punctuated by your last name. The door between the trauma rooms open, revealing Robby, who’s eyes instantly land on you.
“Robby,” You greet.
“Oh, good,” He says. “She got your airway, I assume?”
“Sure did,” Samira says.
“She always does,” Robby says. “What’s going on?”
Dennis doesn’t miss the way his eyes trail up and down over your figure. Mel can’t look away from you either, eyes snapping between Robby and your chest. He watches her squeeze them shut for a moment, shaking her head lightly to bring herself back to the case. You pull your gloves off as you walk over to the door, turning to Garcia before you leave.
“When will you learn to stop underestimating me?” You ask, teasingly.
“Never,” Garcia shoots back, a flirtatious smile on her lips. “Keeps you sharp.”
You roll your eyes, then leave the room without a second thought, tossing your gloves into the garbage outside. Dennis stares at the doorway until he hears Robby ask Samira what she plans on doing next.
After that it became extremely clear that everyone in the ER thought you were hot, which Dennis couldn’t blame them for, but it still bugged him. Peoples eyes lingered on you a little too long whenever you were around, movements a second delayed because they were too busy thinking about you. It didn’t matter if you were just checking on a ventilated patient or trying to intubate a critical case, people were always watching.
They also talked about you.
Like, a lot.
It was driving Dennis insane.
And after ten months he just couldn’t take it anymore.
You were elated when he landed an emergency medicine residency at PTMC, as was he, but it also meant that he had to keep watching people pine after you.
The Fourth of July—a dreaded day in the emergency room, one that both of you were working. One of the boarders who had been waiting for an ICU bed desatted an hour into the day, resulting in your subsequent page and arrival to the department. Dennis comes out of a patient’s room, Ogilvie and Joy behind him, to you leaning against the nurses desk, laughing at something Dana had said.
He almost stops walking at the sight.
Your hair isn’t fully pulled back, the lower half out and styled perfectly around your jaw and shoulders. The top half is tied up, slightly frizzed. You’re wearing the typical navy blue scrubs with a white long-sleeve underneath, sleeves rolled up to your elbows, your forearms tensed as you brace yourself against the desk.
“Oh, Whitaker and friends,” Dana says, gesturing for him to come over, then she says your name. “These are some of our new med students.”
Ogilvie moves so fast it makes Dennis’ head spin.
“Hi, James Ogilvie,” He says, outstretching his hand for you to shake, an obviously flirtatious smile on his face. “MS4.”
You raise an eyebrow, shaking his hand as you say your name. “Respiratory. Nice to meet you.”
“Uh, this is Joy,” Dennis says, and she gives you a wave. It might be the most enthusiastic thing she’s done all morning.
“She’s one of our best RT’s,” Dana adds. “Can intubate pretty much anyone.”
“Very good to know,” Ogilvie says, still smiling. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
You smile back, completely friendly, no undertones. “Our entire team is great, don’t ever hesitate to page. We’re happy to help out. I have a patient, but again, nice meeting you.”
You turn away from them, your badge colliding with the desk, unclipping from your shirt and clattering to the floor. You huff in annoyance, bending over to pick it up. You’re flexible enough to not have to bend your knees much at all, a fact that Dennis knows very well, but the back of your shirt rides up just as your scrub pants shift, and he catches a glimpse of your hot pink thong.
Yolanda emerges from one of the rooms behind Dennis, a low whistle leaving her lips when she sees you, not hesitating to walk over as you stand back up.
“Nice thong, hot shot,” She says, and your hand collides with her shoulder in a playful push. You pull the waistband of your pants up, tug your shirt down, clip your badge back on and walk away. Trinity appears in Dennis' peripheral, a smirk on her face and arms folded over her chest as she looks to where you just were. Even Dana’s eyes are wide, and she takes a second before speaking.
“Show’s over,” She says, referring to the handful of people who look like they just saw a ghost, frozen in place.
“Holy shit,” Ogilvie mumbles, and Dennis can finally move again, hands reaching for a tablet so he can pull up a patient’s chart—any chart. “Please tell me she’s single.”
Dennis isn’t sure if the question is directed at him, but Dana answers before he can open his mouth.
“Unfortunately not, Ogilvie,” She says, eyes now focused on her computer, glasses on.
Trinity pipes up. “Yeah, you’d probably be the five hundredth med student she’s rejected if you asked her out, trust me.”
“That doesn’t mean she isn’t single,” James insists. “Maybe she just wasn’t interested in those other med students.”
Trinity clicks her tongue behind her teeth. “Nah, she’s in a relationship, trust me. No one turns down that many people without so much as a stutter unless they’re already spoken for.”
A trauma comes in a few hours later, a smoke inhalation patient. They’re coding upon arrival, one of the paramedics straddling the gurney as they’re wheeled in, instantly gaining Robby’s attention.
“Whitaker, with me,” He says, which means Ogilvie and Joy follow as well. “Page respiratory.”
“We don’t mess around with smoke inhalation,” Dennis says. “Always get RT down here as soon as you can, those airways swell like crazy.”
“As long as it’s that RT from earlier,” Ogilvie says.
Dennis says your name, followed by “and listen when they introduce themselves.”
“How was I suppose to listen when she looks like that?” He asks. Dennis wants to punch him.
“You’re disgusting,” Joy says.
“What?” Ogilvie asks. “You thought she was hot, too.”
“Yeah, but you don’t hear me talking about it.”
The trauma room fills up quickly, and you arrive just as they move the patient onto the mattress, still doing compressions. Dennis doesn’t miss the way Ogilvie looks at Joy when you walk in, completely oblivious to the small interaction.
“Talk to me,” You say, gloving up.
Robby gives you the summary, finishing up just as Dennis takes over on compressions. Your mouth goes dry at the sight, your breath catching in your throat for half a second. His biceps push against his scrubs, his chain dangling in front of him, the way it does when he’s fucking you.
“We—we should intubate right away,” You say, turning back to Robby.
“You read my mind,” He says, and you move quickly. The intubation goes relatively smoothly, all things considered, but the patient remains in asystole.
Robby says your last name, making you look at him. “Switch with Ogilvie.”
You nod, letting Donnie take over with the bag, positioning yourself over the patient and pushing into their chest hard. The arterial waveform spikes sharply on the monitor, dipping as you allow the chest to recoil, then peaks again when you push back down.
“Now that is how you do chest compressions,” Robby says. “Ogilvie, Joy, take notes.”
“Gladly,” Ogilvie whispers, happy to have an opportunity to stare at you.
“Rhythm check,” Dennis says, glancing at his watch. You stop, lifting your hands off the patient’s chest, looking towards the monitor.
“V-fib,” You say, at the same time Dennis does, too. You don’t look at him, but a small smile forms on your face, which makes his heart jump.
“Charge to two-hundred,” He says, picking up the paddles and placing them on the chest. “Clear!”
Normal sinus returns after the shock, making the room collectively exhale. Dennis steps back, putting the paddles away, just as you try to squeeze past him to get to the exit, your services no longer needed. He finds himself taking a small step forward, leaving you with a smaller gap than anticipated, resulting in your ass brushing against his crotch.
“Sorry, ‘scuse me,” You murmur, but you don’t really mean it. Dennis has to stop himself from grabbing your hips. “Page if you need me.”
“Oh, we will,” Robby says.
By the time the patient is stabilized you’re back in the department, just to check on something, but you’ve been roped into a conversation with Samira and Victoria by the water fountain. You’re playing with the cap on your water bottle, fingers flicking it open and closed repeatedly as Dennis walks out of the trauma room.
He’s sanitizing his hands when your water bottle decides to protest the action, a stream of water shooting up and out of the straw as you pull it open again, landing all over the front of your top. Victoria and Samira gasp, as do you.
“Shit, are you okay?” Ogilvie asks, and Dennis feels like he’s rooted to his spot as the med student steps closer to you, assessing the damage. Your entire shirt is soaked.
You let out a slightly humiliated laugh, waving him off. “Yeah, I’m totally fine. Just…cold.”
Your fingers grip the bottom of the shirt, yanking it over your head, revealing your almost equally wet undershirt. You frown when you look down, accepting a handful of tissues from Samira and starting to blot at the fabric.
Everyone in the immediate vicinity comes to a halt, eyes landing on you, his girlfriend, who’s standing in the middle of the room with your nipples on full display. Dennis is pretty sure you’re not wearing a bra, or at least not one of much substance, and that fact is obvious to those around him, too. Robby and Dr. Al-Hashimi stop mid conversation, both of them craning their necks to see what’s going on. Mel drops the pen she’s holding to the ground, the clattering sound ringing in his ears. The patients that line the walls are watching, unable to look away as you scrub the front of your shirt with tissues, completely unaware of what you’ve just done.
The nurses go silent. Cassie comes out of a patient’s room, feet stopping instantly, and Frank almost runs into her.
Something between possession and protection override his jealousy, forcing him to move towards you, stepping directly in front of your chest as he puts his hands on your biceps. You look up at him, then you glance over his shoulder, noticing how quiet everything has gotten.
“Come on,” He says, plucking a few more tissues from the box and holding them against your barely exposed cleavage and chest. You don’t react at all, as though his hand has been there a million times—because it has.
He pushes you towards the bathroom, locking the door behind the both of you. Trinity is the first to speak.
“She’s dating Huckleberry?”
This seems to snap everyone else out of their daze, and people scramble to get back to work, acting as though they didn’t all just collectively lose their minds over a wet t-shirt like a bunch of twelve year olds.
Your cheeks are hot, but you still find yourself making a joke.
“Guess they know we’re dating now,” You say, smiling. He exhales, a tiny laugh escaping.
“Or they think I’m a creep,” He counters, and you laugh this time. He takes his own scrub top off, revealing the tan t-shirt he has underneath and his silver chain, the one that you bought for him on his most recent birthday. “Arms up.”
You listen, raising your arms and letting him pull your shirt off, revealing your lace bralette. He swallows, passing you his scrub top before moving towards the hand dryer that sits on the opposite wall, sticking your shirt underneath it.
You grab a few paper towels, dabbing at the spots on your pants. Dennis frowns at the practically non-existent flow of air from the dryer, shaking his head.
“Pass me your scrub top,” He says, hand outstretched. You do, dropping the ball of fabric into his palm. “I’ll be right back.”
He unlocks the door, pushing it open, stepping back out into the department. Things have mostly returned to normal, but Dennis doesn’t miss the way the small group of people at central go quiet when he reappears, quickly trying to act as though they’ve been working this whole time. He sighs, walking over to the scrubs machine, unclipping your badge and tapping it to the sensor.
He inserts your old top, then dispenses a new one. He raps his knuckles against the bathroom door, smiling when you pull it open, letting him back inside. You, begrudgingly, give him his own shirt back, sliding the navy blue top on while he does the same with the black one.
“Thank you,” You say. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it would…”
You trail off, exhaling sharply, your lips curving up in a disbelieving smile. “Be such an issue.”
Dennis shakes his head, grabbing you by your waist, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.
“Not your fault,” He says. “But…maybe wear a better bra from now on, hey?”
“Yeah, yeah, definitely a good idea,” You agree.
Everyone has moved on by the time you open the door, and you walk towards the exit, pager already going off again. Dennis watches you go, so do a few others.
“See you at home!” You call over your shoulder, and Dennis’ cheeks turn pink.
A/N - wow she writes for people other than robby??? it's a miracle
No thoughts just the social difference between human!reader and werewolf!ghost....
You're in the middle of the recroom, only half-paying attention to the guys as you struggle with the clasp on your necklace. It's particularly small, a gift from your friend who doesn't wear much jewelry, and as a result you can't seem to get it to clasp properly.
"Hey, ghost," you nudge him with your foot, the werewolf sat on the other side of the couch with a book in hand. You've seen him assemble his rifle in the dark and pouring rain. "Can you help me with this?"
Before ghost can even reply, you're already placing the necklace into his palm and turning your back. "It's finicky," you inform, lifting any hair at the back of your head so it won't snag "could you clip it? My hands just won't do it."
Behind you, ghost makes a choked sound.
It's a bit of a social taboo for werewolves to turn their backs to eachother, a sort of way to show your trust in another. That's already bad enough, though ghost is close with the whole team, but what really gets him is your neck.
You baring your neck for him like a mate, waiting for his claiming bite–
"Uh? Ghost? All okay?" You ask, still holding your hair away and waiting for him to move. He's been silent for far too long now. "You're making me nervous, man, I've got a knot in my throat."
"Fuckin' christ–!" Ghost genuinely does choke that time, jerking away to hide how dangerously horny that little phrase made him.
Summary: You're just Barbie, perfect on the outside, dead on the inside. He's just Ken, neither perfect on the outside nor on the inside.
Author's note: I condone neither patriarchy nor matriarchy. But I do love exploring different forms of mental exhaustion and extreme emotional dependency.
Warnings: Mental abuse, dark mental headspace, mentions of suicide and self-harm (only if you read between the lines), yandere behavior, yandere Ken,
Not every Barbie has a Ken. Not one for herself anyway. Every Barbie knows a Ken, but that Ken most likely belongs to her friend, or her neighbor, or one of the other Barbies. Not every Barbie has a Ken, but every Barbie knows a Ken. You know one too, one with sandy hair and ocean eyes. And a look that longs for something more. You know a Ken who keeps his heart from breaking by crossing his fingers and praying to the Malibu sun. You know a Ken who's only happy if a certain Barbie looks his way. Or rather you knew. This was before the world fell apart. This was before he destroyed it.
Ken returned without Barbie and the universe began to crack. It's fine you thought. It's fine you hoped. Ken -That Ken, the one who waited on the beach for hours on end until his Barbie walked by- returned from the real world preaching sermons on how the Kens were better, superior, the rightful rulers of Barbieland. How they didn't need the Barbies, how they no longer needed to settle for being treated as anything less than perfect. How they needn't be number two any longer. Ken returned without Barbie and the universe wept.
You've always known the real world was a messed up place. It had become evident when the thoughts started to creep in. That was years ago-albeit you'll admit you have no idea if Barbie years and human years aligned- years since you started to feel like a constant failure. Years since that harrowing voice began screeching endless dreadful thoughts into your cranium. Notions that festered your mind and heart, tiny maggots that chewed away at your soul. There was always something wrong and it was somehow always your fault. Then came the pain. Horizontal pangs that shot across your arm. Always in the same spot, always in a cluster of three. Barbies don't feel pain as intensely as humans, at least they're not supposed to.
You worried for your human back then. You truly did. But you were always too scared to leave Barbieland. Never brave enough to go find her. She's fine you hope...you doubt it though.
You also refused to go see Weird Barbie. Too scared of being labeled as anything less than perfect. So long as these thoughts merely remained inside you and no outward defects began to show, you would be fine. You could just pretend like everything was as perfect as it always had been.
Ken came back from the real world unscratched. Yet his words hit a chord within every other Ken. They began to take over. The Barbies were reduced to accessories. Pretty little things that clung to their lovers. Dressed in short skirts and maid outfits. Turned into what they weren't.
Ken destroyed what once was perfect. Yet all you could think as you watch the pillars of your homeland cripple and your friends descend into madness. Was how utterly beautiful he was.
The world turned upside down.
Barbieland fell.
Kendome rose.
And yet as everything the Barbies had worked all so hard to build came crumbling down. As your friends and neighbors began to lose themselves and submit to a tyrannical patriarchy. You found yourself utterly unaltered. Your world had been destroyed long ago. This was just another calamity that you would fake your way through. It would be easy, a lifetime of practice finally paying off. Stay quiet, stay in the shadows, no one would notice.
No one was supposed to notice...
Ken found you on the beach one night. A day or two after the hostile Ken takeover. He walked up behind you out of breath as if he'd been running.
The bonfire crackles, a warning, and a love song. Until now you'd only ever existed in his sideview. An afterthought as he impaled his heart and called it love. You had burned yourself in his rays and called it love. You're convinced neither of you knows what love truly is. The moon's rays dance as you two sit side by side. In the distance, you see Blue Mermaid Barbie and Mermaid Ken share a tender kiss. An unparalleled sight.
Ken sits next to you. Eyes following your every move. Scanning every dip and curve of your plastic corpse. He's just Ken you remind yourself with an uneasy breath. He's just Ken, nothing to fear. Although you're not entirely sure if those old ideologies shine through. He's Ken but somehow he's become unstable at worst, flammable at best. Something radioactive ticks inside of him waiting to detonate. Waiting to make the world feel a trace of his pain.
Ken's fingers intertwine with yours as waves of helplessness crash across your body. You were created to be ethereal yet all you see is perfection molded in the shape of Ken's face. He leans in, carelessly placing his chin in the subspace of your neck as he whispers. "I see the way you look at me" his warm breath tickles the shell of your ear. You flinch, in time with the breaking of the waves. "I know you want me" Reality blurs when Ken touches you. He pulls you between his legs as his lips kiss the back of your neck. His fingers run up and down your arm as if he's trying to memorize your shape, your soul, you. It's romantic you think but all you feel is puka shell shards stabbing your flesh. You know he's dreamed of this intimacy with the other Barbie.
you wonder if in his eyes you are merely a ghost. One he resurrected with desperate love and a broken heart. You wonder if he sees her, feels her, wants her. Yet he'll settle for you. The next best thing. The other stereotypical Barbie. Somewhere along the line, your own voice sounds, foreign to you. He's talking, his voice is smooth like silk. Fragile like window glass after a bombing. He asks you something, something you've dreamed of for all so long. He asks you to be his bride wife. You agree despite how degrading it sounds.
What once was a pink haven of fun and joy has now been turned into a mess of horses and black sunglasses. Barbie's dreamhouse is now Ken's Mojo Dojo Casa House. You feel like an intruder, like a traitor. You feel loved, wanted, needed. Someone once told you that truths can co-exist. It's all you can think to save yourself from going mad.
There's an unspoken easiness that comes with being with Ken. The way he's always around. His hands never leave you, tracing stars on your arms, running through your hair. He wants his presence to be felt.
"I like this" you confess one night as you rest your head on his arm. "I've always felt...less than perfect. Like I couldn't be good at anything like the other Barbies." Ken laughs and it feels like the stars have cladded you in their warmth. He pinches your nose with a soft smile. "I know the feeling," he mutters and you feel your heart crack. "But you don't have to worry about that. I'm here and so long as you're with me. We're both going to be perfect." You snuggle into his chest as you close your eyes. "Ken and Barbie" you sing, a mantra, a prayer. One for a better future. One for a happy life.
You have a dream house. Had one at least. You sometimes wonder which Ken lives there now. You wonder if his Barbie feels your presence radiating off the walls and the floor and the heart-shaped night lamp you once treasured. You certainly feel Stereotypical Barbie's presence echoing from every corner. You see her ghost whenever Ken pulls you onto his lap to watch a horse flick. Infuriated and distressed. You wonder if she's angry because you didn't join the rebellion. You wonder if she's angry because she thinks you took Ken away. You see her ghost again, feel her between the pause of two breaths. She glitches and fades as you hide your face in Ken's mink coat.
"I don't like being apart from you" Ken claims as he lays your body on top of his. One hand dangling off the couch the other curling your loose locks. To Ken a touch away feels like being galaxies apart. You kiss his chin and his cheek and his nose and finally his lips. It feels like a dream. One you refuse to wake up from.
Ken is gold.
Unmetable and solid.A kaleidoscope of hope
He has so much potential rotting inside of him.
Ken is gold.
Beautiful and everlasting.
His value lies in how pretty he is. How good of an accessory he's willing to be.
You wonder if he's sick of being gold.
You felt Barbie's ghost again today. This time looming and aggravated. She wants her presence acknowledged. She has something she needs to say. Ken was out, one of the rare times you two spend apart. Something about a beach off and rock paper scissors.
You wonder if a ghost haunting is their way of showing love.
You wonder if the Kens starting a rebellion is their way of showing love.
Barbie talks for ten minutes straight. You cling to every word, you forgot how much you missed the Other Barbie's voice. It's in the final beat of her sentence that you notice she's not a ghost. Not this time. This is Barbie, the girl who had been your friend since the day you left your box. "Help me" she pleads as she grabs your shoulders. "We need to fix this", you turn your head and smile a broken smile. "I can't" you confess.
It's easy to undo brainwashing. Even easier to reinstate it. What Stereotypical Barbie and her friends can undo. You can simply redo. Even Barbies prefer ease, a few simple half-truths sung into the right ear at the right time. And the once normalized Barbies are running back to their Kens. You turn, in the rays of the golden sun, you see Barbie. Her eyes hold glimmers of unshed tears. She wears her betrayal on her pink sleeve. "Why" she whispers as her fingers reach out to hover over your heart before she retracts them. You think you may have burned her. You think she's afraid of being plagued by your depravity.
You feel like a traitor, like a monster. A creature made of pink lipgloss and shattered vows. should Kendom fall, you know your delicate dream life will fall with it. You stare into her eyes. And the words that leave your mouth feel so rehearsed, yet you swear it's the first time you've uttered them. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you both when you went through hell. I'm sorry I wasn't there when the world collapsed and you ran from the debris. I'm sorry I can't help you pick up the pieces and rebuild what once was yours.., ours. I'm sorry I'm so selfish".
Immortal hearts are cursed with the loneliest beats. Maybe that's why the other Barbies never bothered to ponder their endless existence. Maybe that's why the Kens always clung to false promises of love. Maybe saying I love you is the same as saying I'm letting you go. Stereotypical Barbie has already reached this conclusion, you know this. For a fraction of a juncture, she looks into your eyes. Trying to reason and plea and hope all in the same breath. When you say nothing more her eyes shine with grief as she turns on her heels and runs for the hilled house. You reach out to her, yet only grasp the warm Malibu breeze.
What do you call a person such as yourself?
Coward...
That sounds about right.
Ken kisses your neck, and it feels like lava sprinkling along your skin. You feel like a defeated soldier drowning in a sea of guilt. Survivor's guilt a voice echo inside your head familiar yet all so distant. A ghost from a past life or a current one unseeable to you. "I have it too" the voice replies. You wonder if it's the voice of an angel or a mortal girl. You don't tell him about the Barbie resistance or how easily they can reverse the brainwashing. You work best alone anyway.
You hear the word death replay in the background as Ken bites a sensitive spot. A faint noise, a haunting whisper. You hear the word death and it sounds more familiar than the name Barbie that has rolled off your tongue every day since birth.
Ken harbors you inside the once was dreamhouse like a forbidden secret. Sometimes the skirts feel too short. Sometimes the world feels too heavy. You always feel the eyes of the other Kens on you. You think Ken planned it that way to show the Ken world who you belong to. Just last week he took you to the beach. Both of you wearing matching pastel blues and silver earrings. Other Ken was there also adorned in pastel blue and silver earrings. You see the twitch in your Ken's jaw, the icy glare when Other Ken waves to you. "Let's go," he says, commandes really. He throws you over his shoulder and you're heading back the way you came. "I really wanted to see Mermaid Barbie..." You pout. "No no, you wanted to see a movie remember?" Ken corrects you, to be honest, he does that often. You're starting to doubt you even know your own wants anymore.
Today Ken has you dressed in a pink and white dress. You remember Setrotypical Barbie use to love this dress. You run around the kitchen cooking a pretend dinner. You really want to go shipping, to pick out something you'd like. A rose pink Lolita skirt and a matching button-up. You really want to die. Although that's normal you always want to go shopping. You always want to die. You wonder if Ken will ever let you pick out your own dresses. You leave his plate in front of him as you loop your arms around his neck. You rest your chin on his head as he pulls you closer. Not picking your own clothes is a small price to pay for the intimacy you've craved for far too long.
"Never has there ever been a girl as pretty" Ken whispers as he relishes in your presence.
"Do you have any idea what you are?" He rasps, his lips hovering over yours. You're both sitting on the bed, watching the sun die for the day.
Ken is a monster. At least that's what you're supposed to think. You have something in your mind something that squirmes around in what can only be described as reason. To call it wits and a conscious would be an overstatement. Lucide is a better word. Weak and brittle yet somehow still standing. Deep inside, your heart refuses to call Ken anything other than hero, savior, salvation.
"I'm yours" it's the first truth that's left your mouth in a long long time. You cup his cheeks and kiss him with all the doom and gratitude that lies within you. And Wow Ken tastes like mint ice cream and shooting stars. Like dead dreams that lay on the tip of your tongue. He's the beach at night and the evermore gardens during the day. He's everything good and confusing and painful and sweet. Ken nibbles your ear, playfully, and coos sweet words into your soul. Spinning tales of how you'll be together forever. You soak in his presence, rolling his name around in your head. You keep your head filled with him before your own thoughts give you a heart attack.
You're Barbie but now you are so much more than that. You're his Barbie. Ken's Barbie. Damaged yet simultaneously perfect. And he's perfect too, mesmerizing when the sun's rouge rays kiss his pretty face, bathing him in golden ichor.
You wonder if perfection and imperfection have always been in love.
Sometimes in the dead of night, you think of the little girl playing with you. Albit she isn't a little girl anymore, is she? Kids grow up. clawing and biting through the painful transformation. Sometimes it leaves their minds fragmented. Sometimes it leaves them less than whole.
Judging by how long it's been, your little girl is grown up by now. You close your eyes and give Ken a final kiss before sleep overtakes you. You hope she's okay, even though you know that can never be true. Being "okay" doesn't seem to be a real thing in this universe.
Because girls are broken and the universe knows this
Because boys are broken and the universe knows this
Because the universe does nothing. Just sits there and watches as life bends and breaks itself over and over again
Barbieland is broken too, imperfect and destroyed.
And so are the two of you.
Yet in the end, it doesn't matter.
For as broken as the world is the most important of things has been resolved.
Synopsis: You see Peter for the first time in years and suddenly find it hard to be around him due to all his new improvements
Masterlist
After erasing the same spot on your paper for the fifth time, the paper finally tore. You ripped the page out of the notebook and crumpled it up in frustration. To your luck, Happy walked into the lab just as you threw it, nailing him right on the forehead.
“Oh. Throwing things before 11 am, are we?” He laughed as he rubbed the spot your paper ball hit.
“Sorry.” You grimaced. “I’ll pick it up. And then burn it. And then run into oncoming traffic.”
“Tough day in the lab?”
“Tough week.” You sighed and shut your notebook. “I’m about to throw this whole notebook in the fireplace.”
“Before you do that, I wanted you to say hello to our guest for the week.” Happy said and pointed his thumb at the hallway to signal that he had someone out there waiting.
“Sorry, Happy. I don’t know if I’m in a stable enough mood to be nice to strangers right now.” You told him, but he was already opening the lab door to let someone in.
“He’s not a stranger. He’s an old friend of your dad’s. Don’t you know Peter?” Happy asked as a guy your age walked into the lab. Time slowed down and you could have sworn a gust of air hit you, causing you to stumble back a little. “Bliss” by Mariah Carey started to play in your head as the most beautiful stranger made eye contact with you. He was in an Empire State University t-shirt that fit him just tad too tightly, but only because he was so defined. Curly brown hair that was just the right amount of overgrown spilled into his eyes, which he shook out of the way. He gave you a smile that felt like you just quite possibly started the second immaculate conception in your uterus.
“Did you hear me?” Happy asked, making you realize you’d been standing there in silence as you gawked at the boy.
“Sorry, I have my headphones in.” You lied once you composed yourself enough to speak.
“No you do-.” Happy began to point out.
“Sorry, was did you say your name was?” You quickly cut Happy off so he didn’t expose your lie.
“Peter. We met a couple years ago before the uh, airport battle royale, if you will.” He told you, and even his voice was attractive. You stared at his face for a moment but struggled to place him. You remembered your dad introducing you to some of his new recruits, but you knew you would’ve remembered if you met this man before.
“I was the sticky one in the red suit.” Peter followed up, hoping it would jog your memory.
That’s when it clicked for you. The picture frame on your dad’s desk, untouched in the years since his passing. There was a boy in the picture making bunny ears behind your dad’s head, the same boy in red and blue pajamas you showed your dad videos of all those years ago. That nerdy kid from the videos had somehow turned into the captivating man in front of you in the years since your last seen him.
“Wait, you’re Peter? Peter Parker?” You asked, failing to hide your disbelief. Peter let out a shy laugh and nodded his head.
“That’s me. Sorry, you probably didn’t recognize me. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other. Not since the um, well, it’s just been a long time.”
“Clearly.” You blurted, the quickly followed it up with, “I mean, what’s, uh, what’s new?”
“Not much. I’m in college, but I won’t bore you out the details. It’s really good to see you.” He said as he started to come closer to you.
“It is really good to see you too.” You replied, finally sounding normal just as he enveloped you in a hug. You stiffened in surprise before hugging him back. The scent of his cologne wafted off his skin and if he hadn’t been holding you so tightly, you might’ve collapsed on the floor.
“Sorry. I just don’t see many familiar faces lately.” Peter said sheepishly once he pulled away. From how tightly he hugged you, you could tell he really needed it. You had no idea what had happened to him since the last time you saw him, but the sadness in his eyes now told you it wasn’t good.
“It’s okay.” You assured him as you held his gaze. To make matters worse, he had the softest brown eyes you’d even seen. Much to your dismay, you were officially enamored with this man.
“Peter is staying here for the week while he’s home from college.” Happy told you. “Would you mind showing him around? I put his room right across the hall from yours.”
“Of course you did.” You mumbled.
“I can wait outside if you’re still working.” Peter offered politely.
“It’s okay. I need to clear my head a little anyway.” You decided and shoved what you were working on away from you.
As you led Peter through the halls of Avengers Tower, you made absolutely no eye contact with him. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself any further, so you made no effort to make conversation.
“It really is good to see you. It’s been such a long time. So many things have changed.” Peter said to break the silence. You allowed yourself just one glance at him, and immediately caught sight of his enormous bicep. You quickly looked away and sucked in a sharp breath.
“Yes, they most certainly have.” You replied.
“What was that you were working on?” He asked you on the elevator ride to the main floor.
“Just some stupid blueprints that I can’t get to work.” You sighed. “I think just gonna scrap it.”
“What’s it for?”
“I’m trying to make a bracelet for kids that can scan food and detect allergens. It’ll buzz and turn red if they can’t eat the food. But I can’t get it to stop exploding. And I don’t think parents want their kids to explode. Or, maybe they do, and I have a genius invention on my hands.”
“That’s an incredible idea. I don’t think you should scrap it. One of them has to not explode, right?” He asked. His encouragement sounded sincere, making you even more in love with him. You decided to probe for reasons to not be attracted to him, since that would be the only way for you two to coexist while he stayed at the Tower. You brought the tour to the kitchen and showed him the inside.
“This is the kitchen. You probably won’t use it much.” You assumed. “I know most guys our age are all about protein maxxing and pre-workout inhaling.”
“Not me, actually. I love to cook. I make all my own meals. It feels better to eat it knowing I prepared it.” Peter told you, because of course he loved to cook.
“Is that so?” You asked with a dry mouth.
“Yeah! I could show you sometime, if you like. What do you like to eat?” He asked.
“Well, I think my favorite food is something my best friend’s mom used to make a lot when we were kids. They’re called tostones. She made them the perfect amount of salty and crispy.”
“Hm. I haven’t heard of that, but it sounds really good. Are you two still friends?” Peter wondered, making things ten times worse. Asking questions to get to know you was not helping you not fall for Peter.
“We are. It’s just harder to find time for a family dinner nowadays.”
“I bet. Happy told me how busy you are. From what he said, it sounds like you’re ready to take over Stark Industries any day now.”
“That’s the goal.” You admitted. “It certainly pays to be a Nepo baby in a field I actually really enjoy.”
“Hey, you may be Tony Stark’s daughter, but you’re inheriting the company because you earned it.” Peter said sincerely. “I’ve read about the stuff you’ve made. You’re brilliant.”
“Oh, thank you.” You smiled shyly at the compliment. “I remember that you are as well.”
“I wouldn’t say brilliant. I’m nowhere near your level. But I know what to do when I’m in there.” Peter shrugged modestly, highlighting his perfectly broad shoulders.
“I bet you do.” You whispered.
“What did you say?” He asked.
“I asked what you like to do?” You lied. “Physics? Engineering? Chemistry?”
“I love it all. But I think engineering. I made these, actually.” He said as he clinked his wrists together. Two black bands formed on each wrist and he held them out for you to see.
“What do they do?”
To answer your question, Peter shot a web at a flower pot across the room. He yanked it back, caught he effortlessly, and then handed you the flower. You felt your face warm up and accepted it with a soft smile.
“You created those yourself?” You asked him with amazement.
“Yeah. It took me forever to get the web formula right. And then when I did, I had to reconfigure the shooter a thousand times to get it to stop sticking to the inside when I tried to shoot them. But now they work well. See?” He shot another web, but you weren’t sure what he was aiming for this time. You were too fixated on watching his veins when he flexed his forearms.
“Oh, I see.” You said under your breath.
“What was that?”
“I said it’s this way to our rooms.” You quickly covered up and faked a smile. You showed Peter to his room and then got out of there was fast as you could. You leaned against your door after shutting it and stared up at the ceiling as you caught your breath.
Once you were composed, you slipped the Kimoyo beads off your wrist and used them to call Shuri. When she answered, she appeared as a holographic projection in your room. You caught up with your friend for a little bit, but when she asked why you called out of the blue, you had to confess.
“You know Spider-Man?” You asked her.
“The sticky one? Only a little bit.“
“Have you ever seen him without his mask?”
“I have. At your father’s funeral.” She responded. That answer brought you right back to that day at the cabin. You vaguely remembered seeing Peter that day, but the day was mostly a blur. It suddenly made sense why he didn’t specify the last time you saw each other. He didn’t want to bring back bad memories for you.
“Why do you ask?” Shuri asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.”
“No reason.” You lied. “I just had a quick question about him.”
“I don’t know him too well, so I might not know the answer. What were you wondering?”
“Oh, not much. Just when did he, you know…” You trailed off at the end and gestured with your hand for her to fill in the blank.
“I don’t know.” Shuri said with a laugh.
“You know. Was he always so…” You tried again and gave her a look.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Shuri told you.
“When did he get so fucking hot?” You blurted, followed by you looking at your door to make sure it was shut. Shuri bent over laughing as your entire face heated up.
“I don’t know.” She said when she stopped laughing. “He got bit by that spider.”
“How swol was the spider?” You asked out of the corner of your mouth.
“I think I was told it was radioactive. I don’t remember if I was told about its muscle composition.” She replied, making you roll your eyes.
“I don’t know what to do, princess.” You groaned. “He’s staying here for the week, but I can’t be around him. He’s too sexy. I just tried to show him around the kitchen, and all I could think of was riding on a horse with him and holding on to his gigantic shoulders for support. How am I supposed to stay across the hall from him?”
“If you’re that attracted to him, ask him out.” Shuri said simply.
“I can’t. I can tell that he’s a really nice guy. I don’t want him to think I’m shallow and just trying to hop on that because of his looks. He deserves better than that.”
“Are you trying to hop on that?” Shuri asked, gathering from context clues what you meant by that.
“Oh yeah. Ohhhhh yeah. All day.” You answered, making her laugh again.
“Maybe he’ll be flattered.” She shrugged.
“I don’t think he’s that kind of guy. Which makes it even worse. He’s a gentleman. God, I wish I was dead.” You whined and flopped on your bed.
“People have worse problems.” She reminded you.
“No, I don’t think they do. His eyes are so brown, princess. You have no idea. They’re like the Willy Wonka chocolate river. And I feel like that little fat fuck that got too greedy and fell in.”
“Do I know Willy Wonka?” Shuri asked. “Has he been to Wakanda?”
“Honestly, probably.” You replied. “But no, you don’t know him. Oh my God. What am I gonna do?”
“I think if you’re worried about him thinking you’re shallow, then get to know him first. Maybe you’ll discover you don’t actually like him.” Shuri suggested. You sat up on your elbows and stared at a picture of your dad on your dresser. It was time to come clean about the other reason that had been eating away at you.
“Him thinking I’m shallow isn’t my only reason.” You admitted. “My dad only knew about Peter because I showed him the videos of him. He believed in him because I believe in him. If I mess this up with Peter, it’s like I’m cutting on one of my last remaining ties with my dad.”
“Maybe the reason your dad liked him so much was because he reminded him of his daughter.” Shuri said softly. You thought about her words and as much as you wanted to believe her, you were scared.
“You’re very wise.” You said finally. “Someone should put you in charge of country or something.”
“They should.“ She played along. You moved on and talked about other things, but a corner of your mind stayed on Peter.
When you walked into the kitchen the following morning, Peter was already in there. You were about to turn around to leave when he called you over.
“Good morning. Look what I got at the bodega.” Peter said and held up a bunch of plantains.
“Good morning.” You said back. “What’s that for?”
“Well, I looked up tostones after you mentioned them yesterday, and they looked delicious. And since you haven’t had them in a while, I thought we could make it together.”
“You went out and got plantains because I mentioned that they were my favorite?” You asked slowly.
“Sorry, is that weird?” Peter frowned and put the bunch down.
“No, no, no!” You quickly assured him. “It’s not weird at all. I just wasn’t expecting you to do something so nice after how crappy my tour was yesterday.”
“It couldn’t have been that crappy if I found my way back to the kitchen today.” Peter pointed out.
“That’s true.” You smiled. “Let me see your recipe.”
You helped Peter make the tostones and decided your plan to avoid him would start tomorrow. When they were ready, you sat down together at the table to try them.
“Are they as good as your friend’s mom’s?” He asked you between bites.
“Not quite. But still very good. Thank you for doing this. I haven’t had them in so long.”
“You’re very welcome. I wanted you to have a taste of something familiar since you don’t get to see your friend as much.”
“That was very kind of you. I can’t wait to send her a picture of these.” You told him. “She’s gonna be so jealous.”
“Wait, we should invite her!” Peter realized. “I’d love to meet your friends.”
You froze when he said this, suddenly feeling the urge to run away. He had already gone out of his way to make your favorite food, and now he was saying he wanted to meet your friends. Things were getting too real and you needed to leave.
“Um, I’m so sorry.” You said as you stood up. “I just realized I forgot to do something. I have to go.”
You left the room without further explanation, leaving Peter alone and extremely confused.
The next day, you skillfully avoided Peter in the kitchen at breakfast, and again during lunch. It wasn’t until you walked by the gym that you were no longer able to avoid him. It was your fault really, since you did a double take when you saw him doing pull up’s on the chin-up bar. It became extra your fault when you stopped to watch him.
“Oh, he’s ripped as fuck? Amazing. Just what I wanted to find out.” You mumbled sarcastically to yourself.
You were only there for a few seconds before he made eye contact with you. It was too late to take off running, despite how much you wanted to do exactly that.
“Oh, hey!” Peter greeted. “Can you come in here for a second?”
You contemplated running once more, but knew it wasn’t an option. Instead, you walked into the gym, right up to the man you were trying to avoid. His tight black tank top put all his new improvements on display, and you were fighting for your life not to pay attention to that.
“Hello, Peter.” You said calmly.
“I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to talk to you.” He said as he continued to move up and down on the bar.
“Talk to me? About what?” You asked and prayed for a bolt of lightening would strike that specific part of the Tower so that you would have an excuse to leave the conversation.
“Could you please wait a minute for me? I just have a few more reps.” He said, with manners he just had to have. You stared up at the ceiling to wait for him to be done.
“Take your time.” You squeaked out. He let go of the bat when he was finished and lifted up his shirt to wipe his face with it, giving you a full view of his torso.
“Fuck. My ovaries.” You whispered.
“Did you say something?” Peter asked as he continued to dry his face.
“I said there’s towels over here.” You covered up and grabbed a nearby towel. Without looking, you handed it to him and tried to compose yourself.
“Thanks.” He smiled at you, but you didn’t look at him.
“You wanted to talk to me?” You reminded him.
“Yeah. Are you busy tonight?” He asked you as he dried himself off with the towel.
“I might be.” You said as you forced yourself to keep eye contact and not look anywhere else.
“If you’re not, would you want to come with me to this party?” He asked. “I don’t really know the guy who’s hosting, but some of my friends from high school are going.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I wouldn’t know anyone.”
“It’s okay. You can stay with me. I won’t leave you to talk to strangers. I hate when people do that.” He told you, making you smile softly.
“Yeah, I hate that too.” You said. “I guess I could come to a party.”
You regretted it as soon as you said it. You were supposed to be avoiding him, but it just wasn’t in your willpower to turn down the cute boy inviting you to a party and offering to stay with you the whole night.
“Great.” Peter grinned. “I’ll come by your room around 7?“
“I’ll be there. In my room. Around 7.” You said and pointed finger guns at him, because why would you possibly be cool ever? You quickly put your hands down and hoped for that lightning strike again.
“Sounds good. I’m gonna do some push ups now. You’re welcome to stay and watch, but it’s not my best angle.” He joked, making you let out an audible gulp at the thought of him at that angle. You quickly cleared your throat to cover up the sound.
“Yeah, I definitely don’t want to watch you do push up’s. That would be crazy if I wanted to watch that.” You said through a forced laugh. Things quickly became awkward, and you decided you had to get out of there as soon as possible.
“So 7?” You said, and Peter nodded. You gave him a thumbs up and practically sprinted out of the room after that. You ran all the way to your room and slammed the door behind you.
Peter gave you another reason to fall for him when he showed up at your door 5 minutes early. Punctuality was rare among boys your age, but of course a quality that Peter possessed. If his workout attire hadn’t been bad enough, now he was in a button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You opened the door and let out a small sound that you hoped Peter didn’t catch.
“Hi. You look beautiful.” He complimented you, making you instinctively smile.
“You don’t look too bad yourself.” You replied coyly. Peter smiled at you and offered his arm to walk you to the elevator. You thought he was going to press the button for the ground floor, but he went up to the roof instead.
“Where are we going?” You asked on the ride up.
“I was gonna swing us, if thats okay.” He said, making your heart pick up its pace.
“You want to swing me around the city in your big arms?” You asked before you could stop yourself.
“If that’s okay.” Peter repeated as he laughed.
“Yeah, yeah. That’s okay.” You told him and turned your face so that he couldn’t see you mouthing “Oh my God” to yourself.
When you got to the roof, Peter brought you to the edge.
“How does this work? Do I get on your back Bella and Edward style?” You asked him.
“Yes, actually.” He chuckled, taking you by surprise that he knew the reference. You shrugged and climbed on his back, getting enveloped in the scent of his cologne.
“Hold tight, Spider Monkey. And don’t worry. I won’t let you fall.” Peter said before shooting a web at a nearby building. Your dad was Iron Man, so heights did not scare you. What did scare you was getting attached to the feeling of holding Peter, which was admittedly a pretty great feeling. You let out a happy scream as he swung you from building to building. When you landed on the rooftop of where the party was, you fought the urge to hug him.
“Ready?” Peter asked you as he smoothed down his hair. You adjusted your outfit and nodded your head.
Once inside, Peter introduced you to his friends, Ned and MJ. You and MJ got to talking as Peter and Ned over some movie they had just seen. You liked watching Peter in this relaxed setting, but it wasn’t helping you to not fall for him. You stopped watching him and tuned back into your conversation with MJ.
You felt unexpectedly at ease with Peter’s friends. It didn’t feel like you’d just met that night and instead felt more like you’d grown up with them. They included you and got to know you, making you feel at home. Peter having a great groups of friends was yet another reason you were struggling not to fall for him.
“I’m really glad you said yes to tonight.” Peter told you once Ned and MJ walked off to refill their drinks.
“You are?” You asked him, feeling more comfortable around him now that you had some drinks in you.
“Yeah. I’ve been wanting to hang out with you, but I can never find you.”
“How strange.” You said through a fake laugh, because you 100% avoided him all day. Peter looked into your eyes for a moment with a shy smile on his face. You tried not to look back at first and looked all around the room, but your gaze eventually came back to him. You looked into his eyes and felt all your walls crumbling down.
“Can I say something and then we never talk about it?” Peter asked suddenly, making you freeze.
“Um, sure? You said nervously.
“I’m so sorry that I disappeared. After everything with your dad happened, I just couldn’t bear to come back to the Tower. But I should have.” Peter said with guilt in his voice. You were not expecting him to say this and blamed it on the alcohol.
“Peter, it’s fine.” You assured him. “You don’t have to apologize to me. You were his friend. We didn’t know each other.”
“I know. But I always felt guilty about not reaching out to see how you were. He loved you so much. And I loved him. I should have checked up on you. I should’ve gotten to know you.” Peter continued. You could see his eyes welling up with tears and didn’t know what to do. Without thinking it through, you put down your cup and pulled him into a tight hug. Peter immediately hugged you back and hurried his face in your neck.
“Now we’re the weirdos hugging in the middle of the party.” You said as you rubbed circle onto his back. He let out a laugh and hugged you tighter. He came up after another minute and rubbed his eyes.
“I’m sorry. I had to get that off my chest.” He said, looking shy now.
“It’s okay. And honestly, I should’ve reached out too. It was just all so crazy after he passed. But I saw the picture of the two of you on his desk all the time. I should’ve tracked you down. I should’ve gotten to know you.”
“At least we found each other now.” Peter said with a soft smile. You smiled back and nodded your head.
“At least we did.”
Ned came running back into the room you were in, interrupting your emotional moment. You were admittedly a little glad he did, because things were getting too real once again.
“Guys, they’re playing Spin the Bottle in the other room. In real life. Let’s go!” Ned said and pulled Peter’s arm.
“You coming?” Peter asked as he stumbled towards Ned.
“No thanks.” You shook your head. “I’m not really a kissing strangers type of gal. I just don’t think mono is for me.”
“Me neither.” Peter chuckled. “Maybe we can just watch and silently judge the players?”
You shrugged and followed him and his friends into the room. You didn’t really want to watch, but it would be a good preventative from another deep conversation with Peter. And so, you found a spot against a wall as others took their seats on the floor.
“What do you think about all this?” Peter leaned in close to you to ask. You gave him the side eye from how close he was and then looked away.
“I think someone of definately walking away from this with a cold sore.”
“Not that.” He laughed. “But I agree. I mean kissing for recreation.”
“Oh. I never thought about it like that. I guess I would say to each their own, but it’s not really my style.”
“Me either. I don’t want to kiss some stranger at a party with a bunch of people I kinda know watching. I think a kiss should mean something.” Peter said as he looked at you. You looked back for just a moment and then quickly looked away.
“So when you’re kissing for meaning, who is it with? Girls? Boys? A little bit of both?” You asked him. If he was gay, maybe it would help you get over your crush faster.
“Girls. Though, if you can believe it, I haven’t been too lucky in that department.” He said with a half hearted chuckle. You smiled in response but internally cursed that he wasn’t gay or a player.
“Well that’s probably because you’re hideous to look at.” You said bluntly, making Peter laugh. You cracked a smile but continued to avoid eye contact with him.
“Thank you. I was hoping you’d notice.”
“I’m teasing.” You assured him. “I was honestly stunned when you walked in the other day. I could not believe you were the same Peter my dad used to talk about.”
“Stunned?” He asked. “Why?”
“Because I would’ve remembered if you had that face.”
You folded your lips in after you said it, knowing you had said too much. You hoped he wouldn’t catch it and move on, but to no avail. Peter was leaning in closer to you with a big smile on his face.
“What about my face?” He asked with an amused look. You opened your mouth to respond, but were interrupted by everyone’s eyes turning to you. You looked down at the bottle on the floor and saw it was pointed in the gap between two players and set directly at you.
“It landed on you, miss Stark. Guess we have to kiss.” A guy you’d never met before said as he stood up.
“Oh, I’m not playing.” You smiled politely and turned back to Peter.
“You’re in the room. Rules are rules.” The guy continued as he walked towards you, making you and Peter slowly turn to look at him. You exchanged a look with each other before looking back at the guy.
“Well, the rules don’t apply to people who aren’t playing, so.” You said with zero politeness this time.
“Hey, if you have an issue, take it up with the bottle. Just give me a quick one. I’ll be gentle.” The guy chuckled and stood in front of you. Peter stepped in between you suddenly and pushed the guy back.
“She said she wasn’t playing.” Peter said sternly. The corners of your mouth tugged into a smile after seeing the fire in Peter’s eyes.
“Woah. Sorry, dude. I didn’t realize you were her boyfriend.” The guy said in a different tone than the one he used with you. You rolled your eyes at the guys sudden ability to be respectful.
“Don’t say sorry to me. Say it to her.” Peter demanded. “She should not have had to say no more than once before you got it through your thick skull.”
“I’m sorry.” The guy begrudgingly said to you. You didn’t say anything in response.
“Go on. Fuck off.” Peter ordered, and the guy walked away. Everyone was staring at you at this point and a few had their phones out to film, one of the perks of being the child of a micro-celebrity. You looked around the room and felt your face getting warmer by the second.
“I think I’m gonna go.” You whispered to Peter. You swiftly left the room and Peter followed after you.
“Are you okay?” He asked once you were alone in the next room.
“Yeah, it’s just not really my scene. Thank you for inviting me though.” You said sincerely and started walking to the door again.
“I can walk you home.” He offered.
“Don’t worry about it. Stay with your friends. I don’t want you to miss the party.” You assured him, mostly wanting to be alone after that last encounter.
“I don’t care about the party if you’re not there. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, but I don’t want you walking alone.” Peter said as he gently caught your arm. You looked at where his hand was holding you and sucked in a little breath. Being protective of you was making it hard not to fall for him right then and there.
“Okay.” You decided. “We can walk together.“
And so you did. You walked side by side in silence all the way home. Peter had a no swinging and drinking rule, and you were both a little tipsy. But the cold New York air was helping you come back to your normal state of mind. The silence between you as you walked was comfortable, and you were grateful for that. You liked that he was someone you could be comfortable around without having to exchange any words.
“Brought her back safe, Parker?” Happy asked when the two of you entered the Tower.
“Yes, sir.” Peter said with genuine manners.
“Knew you would, kid. So, was this a date, or can I sleep peacefully tonight knowing you two are across the hall from each other? Because I’m not ready to be a grandfather.” Happy asked, making you start to choke on air. Peter clapped your back to help you out and you finally composed yourself.
“It wasn’t a date.” You finally croaked out. You looked over at Peter, was who surprisingly bright red.
“Not a date.” Peter agreed. “I just took her to meet my friends.”
“Good answer.“ Happy nodded. “Because your dad always told me any boyfriend of yours would have to go through Navy Seal level training before he was allowed to spend the night.”
“Again, not my boyfriend.” You stated as you glared at Happy for embarrassing you. Peter was smiling shyly and scratching the back of his head.
“Well if anything changes in the next 48 hours, let me know. I can have Peter sent off to bootcamp by the weekend. Night, you two.” Happy said before walking away. You and Peter stood there in silence for a minute, this time, a very uncomfortable silence.
“I’m gonna…” Peter finally broke the tension and pointed in the direction of your rooms.
“Right. Me too. Goodnight, Peter.” You said and forced a smile. Peter caught your eye and looked at you for just long enough to make your knees wobbly.
“Goodnight.” He said with a soft smile. You gulped and waited where you were until he was gone. When the coast was clear, you let out a loud sigh and rubbed your face. The week wasn’t up yet and you were losing the battle against falling for him more and more every day.
You eventually retreated back to your room, but you couldn’t settle down. Tonight felt very different between you and Peter, and you didn’t like how things ended after the connection you shared. After pacing your room for a full half hour, you decided to go knock on his door.
Peter just had to open his door with nothing on but a towel around his hips. You had caught Peter just coming out do the shower, and for some reason, he decided to open the door before getting dressed. He had another towel in his hand that he was rubbing back and forth on his damp curls.
“Fuck.” You practically shouted in his face. You instantly clamped your mouth shut and felt your eyes go wide.
“Um, what?” Peter laughed in confusion. You had to think quickly and your eyes landed on his phone cable on his night stand.
“Fuck…my phone charger. It’s broken.” You said weakly. “I guess. Can I borrow one?”
“Oh, sure. Come in.” Peter said and went back into his room.
“Oh, that’s okay. I’ll wait here.” You said and kept your eyes glued to ceiling to stop probing him with them. His back was to you now, which was not helping anything. Even his back was hot.
“You can come in. I want to show you something.” He said as he turned back to face you. Your eyes instinctively dropped to his waistband before going back up to his eyes.
“Show me something?” You asked in a low voice.
“One second.” He said and went into his connected bathroom. You blew out a breath once he was gone and fanned yourself. After emotionally connecting with him at the party, he just had to remind you why he caught your eye in the first place.
Peter came back after a minute in his pajamas, thankfully. He pulled a sheet of paper out of his desk drawer and handed it to you.
“What’s this?” You asked as you took it.
“Your scrapped design for the allergy bracelet. I hope it’s okay that I took it out of the trash. I thought it was too creative to throw out. But it was super crumpled, so I rewrote it as best as I could.”
“You saved my design?”
“Yeah. I think if we look at it together, we can figure out what’s missing. Maybe we can get it to stop exploding?” He asked hopefully. Thus, reminding you of the other reason you liked Peter. He was incredibly thoughtful.
“Thanks, Peter. That was really nice of you.” You smile softly as you looked up at him.
“It’s no problem. I had to save it. You’re an amazing inventor. You are totally going to run the world one day.” He said with a shy smile on his lips.
“If I don’t blow it up first.” You replied. It suddenly dawned on you how close you and Peter were. He was just inches away, close enough for you to smell the body wash he just used. You gulped a little and hoped it wasn’t as audible to him as it sounded to you.
“I don’t think you will.” He said softly. “And even if you did, you’d probably do it in a really cool way.”
He was so close now that a droplet from his hair landed on your shirt. You could see every freckle on his nose. He has creases by his eyes, something you somehow hadn’t noticed before despite all your staring at him. Peter seemed to be getting closer by the second, and you suddenly remembered you were not supposed to be falling for him. You pulled away and cleared your throat, leading him to do the same. He turned his face so you wouldn’t see his disappointment and grabbed a phone charger off his desk.
“Uh, here.” He said quietly and handed it to you.
“What’s this for?” You frowned.
“You said yours was broken.” He reminded you.
“Oh.” You laughed in embarrassment. “Right. I did say that.”
You and Peter stood in uncomfortable silence once again. You had come over to smooth things out, but somehow managed to make things feel worse.
“I should probably go.” You said, not bothering to hide how defeated you felt.
“Oh, yeah. I should probably get some sleep.” Peter said without looking at you. The vibe in the room had become palpably bad, but you didn’t full understand why.
“Goodnight, Peter.” You said for the second time that night.
“Goodnight.” He answered with a smile you knew was fake. You saw yourself out and shut your bedroom door behind you before dramatically throwing yourself on your bed.
For the next two days, you got serious about avoiding Peter. You made FRIDAY scan rooms for him before you left your own so that you wouldn’t run into him. If he did come into a room you were in, you made up a quick excuse to leave. You had nearly 48 hours of success avoidance of Peter until he found you on a late night trip to the kitchen to get string cheese.
“Can we talk?” Peter asked, making you jump in surprise. He had concealed himself behind the open refrigerator door so you didn’t know he had entered the kitchen.
“I can’t. I am extremely busy.” You lied as one of your cheese sticks fell on the floor. Peter bent down and picked it up for you.
“I feel like you’re avoiding me.” He said as he handed it back.
“What?” You forced a laugh. “What would make you think that?”
“Because ever since the night of the party, I haven’t seen you. You find an excuse to leave the room as soon as I walk in. You’re always running off if I try to talk to you. You don’t even look at me anymore.”
“Peter, I’m not avoiding you. I just have to leave the room a lot.” You lied, already feeling guilty for what you’d been doing. He sounded so upset and it was killing you.
“Did I do something to offend you? Because if I did, I am so sorry. Please tell me so I can make it right.” He pleaded. You felt a pit form in your stomach knowing you had caused him to feel punished for something he did not do. And yet, you did not have it in you to come clean.
“Yeah, actually.” You lied. “You did.”
“What was it?” Peter asked desperately. “Something I said?”
“Uh huh.” You weakly went along with whatever he said.
“Can you tell me what it was?” He begged.
“Wow.” You blew out a breath. “You really don’t remember?”
“No, I’m sorry. What was it?”
“I can’t believe this. How can you say the very offensive thing you said and not remember?” You asked him. You had dug yourself so deep now that there was no turning back.
“I don’t know. I can’t think of anything.“
“Wow, y’all, wow.” You shook your head. “You’ve changed, Peter.”
You walked away from him after that, feeling yourself well up with tears once he couldn’t see you. You hated yourself for letting things get to this point. You wished you hadn’t avoided him and just spoken to him, or at least not convinced him he did something to hurt your feelings. You went to your room and wiped your face clean of your tears. The blueprint Peter had rewritten for you that was sitting on your desk caught your eye. You picked it up and looked at it again, admitting the swoops and slopes of his handwriting. That’s when you noticed something at the bottom.
“Genius girl, don’t give up. The world needs you to keep going.” He had written to you.
“Ohh, so I’m a massive bitch.” You said decidedly to yourself. You put the blueprints back down and went straight to Peter’s room to set things right. He opened the door after the second knock, looking that he too had shed a few tears.
“Can I come in?” You asked him. He didn’t say anything, but nodded his head as he stepped to the side. You sat down on his bed and he sat beside you.
“Peter, I’m so sorry.” You began. “I’ve been such a jerk to you.”
“What’s going on?” He asked in a quiet voice. “What did I do to offend you?”
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” You assured him. “You have been completely perfect since the moment you got here.”
“Then why have you been avoiding me?” He wondered. You looked into his eyes and let out a sigh. It was now or never to make things right.
“I just don’t know how to talk to you.” You admitted to him.
“Oh. I mean, I can kinda understand that. We haven’t seen each other in a long time.”
“A really long time. And I wasn’t expecting you to be so…” You trailed off and felt your face warm up.
“So what? Annoying?”
“What? No.” You quickly assured him and shook your head.
“So weird? So rude?” He kept asking.
“Nope. Not those either. So, ummm….whats the word I’m looking for?” You asked and clicked your tongue.
“So what? What is it?” Peter put his hand on you shoulder and leaned it to ask you. You stared at him like a deer in the handsome headlights and blinked.
“Hot.” You said in the smallest voice you could muster.
“What was that?” Peter asked and leaned in closer to hear you better.
“So hot.” You said louder and flung your hands in frustration, making Peter jump back at the sudden loud noise.
“I heard you the first time, I just didn’t believe it.” Peter admitted out of the corner of his mouth. “You’re telling me you haven’t talked to me the last few days because you think I’m hot?”
“That’s what it was at first.” You confessed. “But it’s changed now.”
“I’m not following.” Peter told you, making you sigh.
“Look, Peter. When you first walked in, I was stunned, like I told you at the party. Because the last time I saw you, you were this excitable 14 year old kid who was filming himself doing parkour on top of buildings. And now…” You trailed off again and gestured to all of him.
“Now?” He asked, looking down at outfit as if you were referring to his clothes. You let out a groan and rubbed your face with your hands.
“Are you really gonna make me say it?” You whined.
“Yes, actually.” He said firmly, making you groan again. You gave him one last look before letting all your bottled up feeling out.
“Now, you look like Zeus, and I’m sure you have the lightening rod to match. I literally cannot look at you without getting bricked up. When you opened the door the other night in just your towel, I was like oh okay, I’m 21 weeks along, and it might be twins. When you were doing pull up’s in front of me, I had to clench my legs together to not flood the whole Tower and the surrounding neighborhoods. Probably New Jersey too, if we’re being honest. And if that’s not bad enough, you cook my favorite foods and ask to meet my friends. You stand up for me and make douche bags apologize for making me incompatible. You save my freaking scrapped designs and compliment my mind. You’re too perfect! So no, I can’t talk to you!” You finally said, shouting by the end of it.
Peter leaned back and stared at you with a stunned expression for a long time. You stared back with your lips folded in, not moving a muscle. This staring contest went on for quite some time since there was really no appropriate response to what you had said. You may have gone for overkill, but you figured he deserved to know the truth after avoiding him for two days.
“Lighting rod?” He said finally, making you bury your face in your hands.
“Is that really all you heard?” You asked through your hands.
“I don’t really know what I just heard.” Peter admitted. “So you won’t talk to me because you think I’m too perfect?”
“I can’t talk to you because I didn’t want you to think I was throwing myself at you just because you got hot.” You explained. “But then, I started finding out you’re this too good to be true stand up guy who is also hot. So now I hate you and I can’t be around you.”
“If you feel that way about me, why didn’t you just tell me? I wouldn’t have exactly been mad if you threw yourself at me.” Peter told you, making you smile a little. He gave you a look and you were suddenly feeling a little silly for ever coming up with your plan not to fall for him before finding out how he felt about you.
“Because. You were friends with my dad. And I didn’t want to mess that up. And I’m really busy in the lab. And we barely know each other. And…” You trailed off as Peter leaned in closer to you.
“And?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. Your faces were just inches apart now and your eyes were locked on his lips.
“And I can’t take it anymore.” You decided before climbing into his lap to pull him into a kiss.
My first House M.D. xreader thing. Lots of Medical talk for like the first half, then a lot of blabbering flirty/not-so-flirty nonsense.
Summary: House and Wilson bet on who’s gonna ask for who’s number first. You and Chase thwart it. And still arrange a date.
‘Alright, people, let’s think. What could possibly be making her so sick,’ House glanced over to the whiteboard, eyes skimming over the growing list of symptoms. He set his cane down against the table and sat in one of the chairs, folding his arms behind his head as he leaned back. It was as if he had already figured it out, now just toying with his colleagues.
‘Migraine,’ Cameron offered. She sat up and put her pen down, her own list of symptoms much neater on her notebook. ‘Sometimes victims get worse symptoms; hers aren’t that strange when you think about all potential symptoms.’
‘Wrong!’ He replied. ‘She’s 28, alone and average in both height and weight.’ He turned his head and glanced at Chase and Foreman. He clicked his tongue and watched them turn from Cameron, to each other.
‘Uh,’ Foreman shrugged a little and turned his attention to the whiteboard. ‘Let’s see, she’s got a lot of symptoms.’
‘Which include black outs, discolouration of the scalp, a difficulty sleeping, semi-constant drowsiness, frequent headaches, sudden bruising on the skin and a tenderness to touch.’ House replied. ‘Which, yes, do fall under migraines – partially, only a couple of them do; only for extreme cases.’
‘Acute Sinusitis.’ Foreman said, folding his arms and leaning onto the table. ‘Matches her headache and tenderness, which could cause the pain and therefore the bruising. Drowsiness and sleeping difficulties could be in relation to insomnia.’
‘Close.’ House hummed, sitting forwards and looking at Chase. ‘But what does Dr. Chase have to say?’
‘Hematoma.’ Chase said confidently. He looked at foreman and nodded, before also taking into consideration Cameron’s suggestion. ‘Hematoma is the main condition she’s here for – the strange bruising that’s been appearing across her body, which can be easily treated with the RICE procedure, but we can prescribe her something to deal with her insomnia, which in turn will take care of the migraines.’ He summarised.
Clapping his hands, House leaned back again and kicked his legs up onto the desk. ‘You’re in charge of RICE then, Dr. Chase.’
‘But I’ve got-‘
‘Cameron’ll take care of it. She’s heading down to Clinic anyway, aren’t you, Cameron?’
‘I guess I am, now.’ She muttered, rolling her eyes before making her way to the door. ‘Foreman, I’ll see you in the lab afterwards to check on the results for Mr Downs, alright?’
‘Gotcha.’ Foreman pushed himself from his chair, following Cameron on her way out, instead heading to the lab while she took the elevator to the clinic.
Chase sighed and turned his head to House. ‘Why do I have to RICE?’
House shrugged an innocent look on his face as he took out his handheld game. ‘I made a bet with Wilson.’ He replied indignantly. He pressed play and barely glanced to Chase as he shook his head in exasperation. ‘$20 says you’ll ask for her number and $30 says she’ll ask for yours.’
‘Which one were you.’
‘Thirty.’
‘Of course you were. She won’t ask for it!’ Chase replied as he got to his feet. ‘Besides, now that I know, I’ll make sure she doesn’t.’ He turned away, walking out the office and towards the patient’s room. Muttering to himself, planning how to make himself unbearable as a doctor while still performing his duty.
