The silence was crippling.
You had never liked the quiet, it was too eerie, too empty, but now...now the silence meant that every beat of the heart rate monitor filled the room to bursting, a constant staccato that reminded you of the almost-lost beating of a heart that meant more than the world to you.
Every time you managed to drift off, you heard the beeping turn into a monotone drawl, making you jolt awake on the cold floor that had become your workbench while your fiancé recovered in his hospital bed.
You heard your name on the radio two days after the demon invasion ended, you were sitting on the floor of the medbay by the beeping machines that maintained the coma Flynn had been under since his heart stopped, rough blueprints spread out in front of you like bazaar flowers to some dying bouquet.
' Have you seen that video of the engineer out on the firing strip?'
'Dude, if anyone hasn't seen that then they should re-evaluate what they do with their spare time.'
'I know, I have never seen anyone look so much like a real superhero.'
'There's this frame that they took from that video, this person is just standing there alone on that metal platform, huge tool bag in hand, staring at the sun coming through the clouds. Dude, in the picture it's like a red glass statue is standing there, with all that demon blood? Come ON man, that's a sick picture.'
'And that shot? From that fucking mounted gun? That was a nice shot, the accuracy over the distance is insane.'
'Dude I know, we've actually been trying to find out who this is, but no one can get an interview from the source, according to all the other workers through, this picture has one of the key designers for almost all of the armistice in it; like we didn't know it, but this one person probably saved all of our lives.'
'Yo! Imagine being able to say you like, know or work with that badass!'
'Imagine getting that first interview!'
They went on to theorize where you had gone, if you were dead or not, what you would say when they caught you for an interview.
"Vega, turn off the radio."
Immediately, the broadcast clicked off.
"Perhaps you would rather listen to something more relaxing."
Soft music began to play though the air, gentle as it rose and fell like patterns of rain across the ground.
"When he was alone, the Slayer often thought of you, he liked this piece in particular."
You stiffened. Eyes flickering to where your fiancé sat in his hospital bed.
"What? No Blood for the Monarchs?"
"That too, but it felt rather inappropriate to play at a time like this."
You let out a weak guffaw of laughter.
"Turn it off Vega." You had listened to a lot of music with him; metal, classical, even his own reckless shredding on the bass or guitar.
He had tried to teach you, but you were hopeless with music; though you hadn't given up, you were sure that he liked you to play for the comedy of it all rather than the hope that you would actually be able to nail a riff.
The robot hesitated, but the music still played on.
" Please Vega." you were begging him. "Just turn it off!"
" I do not think that he would want to see you like this, you have not slept in three days, you have stopped eating, you have only left this room to use the bathroom and retrieve materials."
You couldn't sleep, every time you did you thought you heard the drone of the machines stop, and you just weren't able to get any amount of rest when you still hadn't finished your project.
In front of you, the foremost material on biomechatronics sat splayed out on the ground, the section of floor you had claimed as your work station basically a paper carpet.
"I can't. " it was an admission to yourself as much as it was to him. "If I had stayed where I was supposed to, if I had been here for him-"
"If you had been here, you would not have been on Earth to defend what mattered most to you, it was your shot that distracted the Icon long enough for it to be finished."
"Was it? Or was it a distraction for him ?"
Flynn was so capable, he was an impossible man, stronger than anything definable that you had yet to encounter. He would have succeeded with or without your attempt to help.
"It was no distraction for him, I was there, and even as an AI I am able to know that."
The piano patterned in the background, sad and panicked.
"He loves you, desperately so, he loved you before he pushed aside his cowardice enough to tell you that he loved you."
"I-" you gulped. "-He should have a leg when he wakes up-I-he needs a leg." You didn't know much, but you did know hardware; even if he woke up and didn't want you anymore, you would give him what you could.
"Vega." Through the last weeks, it had been you, a robot, and the steady cadence of a restarted heart. "I think it's as ready as it will ever be."
Vega was a brilliant piece of software that you didn't understand at all. However, you did know that having him around meant that you had one of the greatest technological advantages in the entire world.
Vega was not just a software program that knew the binary of his own code, he also was capable of learning.
You had him running through simulation surgeries every day that stretched into the construction of the mechanical leg, and now you were confident that he would be able to perform the delicate surgery to attach each nerve to the ones that you had synthesized.
Whatever had happened to Flynn's leg was traumatic enough that the damage took a toll on his entire body (obviously, given the stress it had put on his heart). The surgery would have to include an amputation of the damaged flesh around the immediate site of the damage, and from there, a port would be installed and the leg would be attached directly to the newly exposed nerves on the severed leg section.
That was, if he woke up and consented.
You wouldn't try anything that he didn't want.
It had been something to keep yourself busy, not ever a real goal.
You realized that as you stared at the cold walls of the medbay.
It had never been purposeful, it was only ever a way for you to distract yourself from the crushing madness of your sudden solitary confinement beside the body of a man that could be a corpse any moment.
"You should rest now, the leg will be ready when he wakes."
You sniffed and rubbed your hand over your eyes.
"I-Vega-"
He understood without you having to say it.
"I know, but there is nothing to do now, please, he would not want you to destroy yourself."
You were a fucking wreck and you knew it.
"I- I don't think I can sleep at all."
"There are sleeping pills in the cabinet to your left. Your suggested dosage is one."
You took two, throwing them back dry and curling into a ball against the wall.
"Will you not take the bed?"
You shook your head, staring at the cold, sterile floor.
"I just want to stay here for now."
"I understand, it was worth a try."
"Thank you Vega."
"What for?"
"For caring."
Sleep took you like a truck took the life of an isekai protagonist.
Blackness, but not that of unconsciousness. Your eyes were slowly coming into focus, shapes coming out from under the fog of darkness.
You swallowed heavily, voice stalling twice before any words managed to come out.
"Flynn?" there was a clicking sound to your right, causing you to whirl around in the dark.
In the dim light, your surroundings finally emerged. You were in some kind of structure, something that looked like it was once an arena but had long since fallen into destruction.
The ground was saturated in gore, sicky under your feet even as it dried to your skin, a thick crust making your movements proceed a flood of red flakes.
It smelled like metal, diesel, and blood.
Like death.
"Flynn!"
The walls of the arena suddenly filled with growls; pairs of red eyes peeling open in each of the chambers.
Your breath hitched, eyes darting around for a way out.
Instead, they found the one anomaly in the sea of red.
A set of eyes in a vibrant green, glowing as bright as the others.
It was a familiar shade, recognizable even in the inhuman incandescence.
"F-Flynn?"
The creature from the shadows stepped out. It was hulking, its skin a dead, sickly gray. It had horns that added another two feet to its height, one full and sharp while the other was snapped halfway through, jagged.
He was clad in armor and blood, steam rolling from his skin.
-and despite how terrifying all of it was, you immediately zoned in on the face of the creature, it had a scar on its left cheek.
It was Flynn.
Seven feet tall, gray skin, green eyes glowing like drops of toxicity above you. He had been changed into a marauder, complete with a set of broken horns and a look of pure hatred in his eyes.
You smiled.
"Flynn? What happened to you?"
And you reached out to him with the pure joy of having found him again; because no matter how twisted, he was still the man that you loved.
He stepped toward you slowly, a hand raising almost gently to your cheek, touching the back of his knuckles to your sensitive skin.
You leaned into it, staring up at him in hope and horror.
Of course, that changed when his grip tightened. He tilted your head up, practically lifting you off of the ground by a grip around your jaw.
He snarled, breath smelling like ash and tasting like acrid spice as he forced your mouth open and it fell against your tongue.
You put up no resistance as he rammed the long blade of the crucible down your throat.
He woke to the soft sounds of a ventilator. It had been a long time since he had been in a hospital bed.
He yanked the tube from his throat, wincing in discomfort at the rough slide it caused.
" Welcome back." Vegas' mechanical voice rang through the air as he sat up. "We've been waiting."
' We? ' all at once he was in a panic, eyes darting around and taking stock of the room.
It was a fucking mess, there was a stack of papers three feet tall on the ground in a semi circle, empty cups scattered over the floor, and a mismatched selection of tool boxes sat clumsily around the only work table in the room.
There had never been a work table in the infirmary before, someone had dragged it in to work on the fully mechanical leg that rested on top of it.
It was a beautiful piece of mechanics, all smooth curves and delicate balance.
And it was far too big to be for anyone but himself.
His cautious hands found their way to what remained of his leg, and he traced the stump that was once an entire limb.
Surprisingly, he felt no loss.
It was a shame, but the reward had been worth the price.
"There is a surgery mapped out for attaching your limb, I have been briefed and have prepared a bay for the process...but before that-please, look to your left, and do remain quiet, sleep for him has been...scarce."
He turned his head; there, against the wall, curled in a stained blanket and looking awfully worse for wear, was the love of his life.
He looked tiny, even smaller than he normally was. He had always had horrible dark circles indicative of how little he rested most days, but now there was something about the cast to his face that was downright gaunt, and his brow was drawn up in a furrow of worry even in the clearly restless sleep he was getting.
Without having to ask, Vega began to fill him in on the information of the process that had been invented to attach his leg.
"The surgery will require removing the damage from the torn portion of your leg. Normally I would wait for you to stabilize, but if we allow you to heal then we will have to amputate additional flesh, with your healing rate, you should be able to undergo immediate operation with minimal risk."
He barely listened, attention focused on the distressed twitching of his fiancé as he shivered from his spot on the cold tile floor.
Vega noticed where his eyes were drawn.
"He took two sleeping pills, by my estimations he will be asleep for seven additional hours. The surgery will take four if you wish to complete it before he wakes."
He gave a nod to the affirmative. He didn't want to risk moving him in case he woke up.
"In the last weeks he has done the impossible countless times...you should do your best to thank him when he wakes."
Oh, he intended to.
On two legs it was a simple thing to stoop down and scoop up his fiancé in his arms. As expected, he had gone above and beyond expectation with the construction of the leg, it moved smoothly, and felt to be the exact same weight of his original one.
It even had the same balance, right down to every individual toe.
Sure it wasn't the exact same, but it was a close match.
He cradled his tiny body against his chest. He was thinner than when Flynn last saw him, with a handful of grease in his hair and burns on his fingertips from the soldering wand.
He always did have a habit of leaving it out of its cradle.
Flynn kissed his forehead, bringing a hand up to his face to swipe a thumb under his eyes, tugging at the (even more extreme than normal) dark circles that he had managed to acquire.
Just as Flynn had finally gotten him to sleep enough for them to start fading too.
Flynn smiled as the other man's expression eased, his body finally relaxing as Flynn brought him into his grasp.
' You're safe now.'
The smaller man had never been very soft, his arms were sinew and his hands were covered in scars, but the feeling of him in his Flynns was like holding pure sunshine.
He walked, slowly, into the bathroom.
He stopped.
There was a huge hole in the drywall and the toilet tank lid was missing.
It only took him a few moments to put the pieces together.
Oh, that was how he got out. Clever.
Yeah he should have probably known better than to trap the single smartest person that he had ever met in his highly delicate space base.
Flynn set the smaller man down and started to work him out of his clothes, only to freeze in relative horror when something on his chest started to tug at the cloth.
His shirt was black, so any sort of discoloration wasn't noticeable, but on closer inspection, it had become cemented to his skin by a mat of scabs.
Flynn eased the rest of his clothes off instead, then proceeded to carefully cut away the portions of his shirt material that weren't stuck to the flesh.
What was still stuck to his skin was the result of a partially healed burn that covered nearly half of his chest.
'What could have done this to you?' He ran his fingers around the matted cotton, gently lifting what wasn't stuck so that he could take a closer look at the wound. At the very least, it wasn't infected.
He brought the man to the bath, gently laying him down in the porcelain. He shivered in his sleep, but quickly relaxed when Flynn turned on the warm water.
'I'll need to soak it off.'
Every time his touch brushed skin, he leaned into it.
He was so far out of it that he didn't even stir as Flynn cleaned the wound.
When you woke up to find yourself in bed, you panicked. Shooting up from a dead sleep into a ramrod straight sit faster than your brain could process your surroundings.
You were alone in the bed, the comforters swaddling you in a pile of warmth and softness. The smell of it was familiar, like sage and cactus flower, and yeah, a little bit like sweat and blood too.
You were clean even though you hadn't showered recently...you were also naked.
How the fuck did you get here? Did the sleeping pills make you sleep walk?
"Flynn!" You stepped out of the bed, sheets hastily wrapped around your shoulders.
You got halfway to the door before it swung open.
Flynn was standing on his feet, on two feet; one flesh and one false, holding a tray of food.
He cocked his head at you, and you knew that you were suddenly the picture of relief, shoulders sagging in the wake of the weight that had suddenly fallen off of them.
"You're awake!"
Fuck, was he? Was this real?
He shifted the tray to one hand and swept you up under his newly free arm. But rather than holding onto you he dumped you into bed rather roughly.
You bounced and settled, blinking in confusion as you tried to find your way out of the new entanglement of blankets.
"Fl-" you started speaking to him as soon as you were out of the blankets, but suddenly there was a hand around your neck, forcing you down into the warm embrace of the sheets.
"F-Flynn?" your eyes watered around the pressure of the hand around your throat, squeezing the air out of you. "F-Flynn!"
Your limbs thrashed, legs nudging against the cold, hard metal of this newly attached hardware.
You felt your face flush, it was bad, but also so, so good. Your vision blurred and your hands found his wrist, desperate to remove the steel grip from your throat.
"F-ly-nn-"
He brought his hand off of your throat, oxygen rushing back into your head. You fell limp onto the pillows, lips spit-slick and exhaustion heavy around you like a swaddle.
You met his eyes, green and furious.
Fuck it, you were just glad he was alive.
"I love you." Your voice came out rough from the choking.
His eyes did not soften, instead they somehow got even more focused.
You were so woozy that you couldn't do much against his wandering hands, you could only lie still as their huge bulk spread over your rib cage, tracing across the sensitive skin.
You had some scarring from the burns when the superheated plate of the BFG had dropped onto your chest, so hot that the cheap material of your work shirt had melted to your skin in places.
It was healing over, but with how he touched it you would have thought it an open wound.
"It was a-a hot plate of a gun core cover-"
He growled as you started speaking, crouching over you like a predator that had just caught a meal. The muscles in his forearms and chest flexed, emphasizing just how large and strong he was.
So large and strong that a shudder ran up your spine containing equal parts fear and arousal.
Since he had been in a coma without eating for so long he should have seemed smaller, but somehow the starvation just added an extra definition to him. You could see some of the striations in his shoulders where there was normally only full, round muscle.
You reached a shaking hand out to touch the scarred skin, newly cleaned from a recent shower; you could smell sage and cactus flowers from his soap.
Faster than you could register, he moved, taking your hands in his and pinning them viciously to the bed beside your head.
He knelt over you, balancing on his knees perfectly and lowering himself down until his chest just barely brushed against yours.
A part of your brain applauded the smooth motions of the knee and ankle joints, noting that the ball of the heel was likely a bit too flat and should be more rounded for the sake of pivoting.
A deep, visceral growl vibrated in his chest, and the last vestiges of reasonable thought fled as you were suddenly beset with the feeling that you were under a wild animal.
One of his nipples grazed your skin, hard and noticeable against your hypersensitive nerves.
He was so close that you could feel the heat radiating off of him, but even when you arched your back to try and connect with him, he pulled away.
An embarrassing whine seeped out of you.
"Flynn! Flynn please!" you flailed your legs, but he placed his knee on your thigh and completely immobilized you with the barest pressure.
You groaned out in sweet frustration, eyes wide and begging, bordering on manic with how much you needed him to let you touch him, how much you needed him to remind you that he was real and there and safe .
"Please?"
There was no change in his eyes.
He leaned down, and you eagerly tilted your chin in anticipation for a kiss, but he avoided your desperation and instead pressed his kiss to your throat.
It was so soft it was barely there, but you felt it like lightning.
You squirmed, and another kiss as light as a feather brushed against your collar bone.
Another fell on your breastbone, then further down your ribs.
Your hands clenched against his as he found a particularly delicate spot above your belly button; but he wasn't distracted by your reactions, he was only focused on going lower.
"W-wait! I haven't-" well you hadn't been paying attention to personal hygiene at all, and sure, he had given you a bath (god you flushed just thinking about him washing you) but he hadn't taken a razor to you!
He finally let go of your hands, and you tried to push him away, but he leaned into the meat of your thigh and bit you. Hard.
You yelped. Normally in a situation where he was getting feisty you would wrap your legs around his head and tease him incessantly about his apparent hunger for you.
This time though, you were being physically held down with only a fraction of the strength he was capable of outputting.
It was embarrassing, and you were coming to realize through the summation of both the apology incident and the occurrences of this whatever was happening, that he loved making you an object to be pleasured during sex.
What if you wanted to make him feel good too?
You reached for his face, but he slapped your hands down with far more force than he normally used on you.
You felt almost indignant that you were deemed to be held at his mercy.
"Can't I touch you? Please, I need to-"
He bit you again, this time nipping at the underside of the head of your dick.
It was sudden, and you bucked your hips into his face with impatience.
He didn't change his expression.
A pang of intense frustration and confusion went through you.
"Are you mad at me?"
He kept eye contact with you, but didn't respond.
Instead, he nuzzled into your thigh and slowly pressed velvet lips to your skin with an expression of furious agony.
There was anger there, but there was more determination and sadness than that.
oh.
"I'm sorry." your eyes watered. You didn't exactly understand what he was angry about, but you did have a guess. "I'm sorry for leaving."
He tilted his head, leaning his cheek against your thigh and stroking a large thumb over your hip.
But that wasn't quite right, and his hands tightened around your waist.
He rolled, flipping you around so that you were on your knees with his face between your thighs.
You gasped at the sudden motion, shock and arousal shooting through your gut.
Now you had a lot of people tell you to sit on their face, however, no one had ever forced you to sit on their face.
Not like he was doing now.
You were too far away from the headboard to properly brace yourself, so all you could do was grip at your own waist and the hands that held you so strongly.
He was holding you by the creases of your hips, forcing you onto his tongue.
No matter how you squirmed, no matter how you twisted and struggled, you were completely unable to move yourself away from the sucking kisses to your perineum and ass.
He shifted you down and put his mouth around your dick, finders teasing over your hole with clear intent.
"Wait! That's too much Flynn! It's too much!"
He didn't stop slurping, the sounds so vulgar that you wanted to hide behind your hands.
It wasn't like you to be shy during sex, but your legs were shaking with effort as you tried to avoid shoving the whole of your dick into that warm, wet suction.
He slammed his palm against your ass, and with a yelp, your legs gave out.
You sat fully on his face, your dick sliding farther into that wonderful mouth. He hummed around you in satisfaction, his fingers shoving past your ass and into your body. One of them struck your prostate, jolting you forward.
He used those fingers to force you into a jerky rhythm against his tongue.
Your mouth fell open in a pant. Air wasn't coming fast enough, and all the while his hot mouth against you was sending jolts of electricity up to your gut.
You were fucking burning .
"Flynn!"
it was all you had the mental fortitude to say, absorbed as the rhythm changed to a torturously slow drag alongside the underside of your penis with the tip of his tongue.
You goddamn growled, you had been so close! So fucking close to the white-hot edge of mindless ecstasy and now he was holding you there, suspended on the possibility of tipping and falling into that lovely, static void.
"Oh come on!" you rocked insistently against his face, but the only response you got from him was a harsh glitter in his eyes. "You can't just-" he flipped you over again, so quickly that before you knew it, you were on your back and he had returned to his meal of the heat between your legs.
You groaned and mourned the futility of your pleas as he took his joy in making the most embarrassing sounds in the slickness of spit and precum.
This time, you really did hide yourself behind your hands.
Huge mistake apparently.
He pulled back from you all together, and when you peaked out from between your fingers, you were hit with the sudden feeling of a beast looking at you.
' Oh shit.'
You had never, not once, been afraid of him.
At that moment though, you wondered if you should be.
That was not a man looking down at you; that was a demigod, that was dangerous.
You took your hands away from your face under his gaze, gulping heavily as you slowly laid them down on the sheets beside your head.
At the sign of relinquished control, he smiled, running his fingers up over your shoulder and onto your wrist so that he could take your hand tenderly.
Almost like a reward, he brought your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to your palm.
For the first time, you saw the softness in his eyes, the real depth of the sadness behind his rage.
"I'm sorry."
He shushed you, returning your hand beside your head so that he could peck gentle kisses over your face.
He kissed you everywhere that wasn't on your lips, it seemed that his only goal was to assure you felt the mark of him in some way.
You had always felt his mark, emblazoned on the inside of your ribcage like a rune meant to bind you together in all but death.
His mouth opened, but closed again quickly.
Instead of continuing his barrage he touched your chest wound, then the shrapnel marks in your arm, then the swollen skin around the elbow that had dislocated when you fell off of the scaffolding to the mounted bfg.
And you understood.
"I'm sorry for getting hurt, I'm sorry for being so reckless." You smiled at him. "You know I had to."
He sighed, giving you a knowing smile in return.
He finally kissed you on your lips.
He tasted like toothpaste and chamomile tea.
His huge body lowered down over you, hands slipping under your thighs again so that he could settle himself between your legs.
He was finally close enough for you to wrap an arm around his neck, pulling him down until you were chest-to-chest, his hips slated into yours like that was how you were meant to be.
His heat seeped into you, hands gentle and slow on your skin.
You ran your fingers over his strong cheek and the cords of his neck, to the new sharpness of his shoulders and the ridges of his chest.
Your palm came to rest over his breast bone, between the soft press of your bodies.
His expression looked calm, but his heart was thundering against the sensitive skin of your palm.
"You don't have to be strong anymore Flynn, it's okay."
He inhaled a shaky breath, his nose turning to nuzzle into your throat.
He breathed the scent of your skin.
His shoulders shook.
It must have been impossible to fight so long and hard, almost completely alone.
He began to cry.
You thought perhaps that he would let you hold him like that for a time, that you could care for him and give him comfort.
You were not expecting him to shift, the hands on your thighs prying them so wide that they were nearly pressed to the bed on either side of you.
His dick was massive, and he pressed the head against your entrance; pressing, then releasing, then pressing, then releasing.
You shuddered. It was like he was waiting for your body to accept him, prying you open, massaging the ring until it was soft and pliant and loose.
You looked up at him; tears were still dripping down his face, eyes all the more green for how they glittered, the newest scars in his repertoire shining like adornments to the man beneath them.
Pop
The head of his dick slid into you with a wet, sucking sound.
There was still a good ten inches of dick to take; no matter how hungry your body was for it, taking him to the hilt was always a challenge.
You were more than up for it.
"Flynn." you stroked a knuckle down his cheek, wiping at the tears.
He focused on you, completely unembarrassed at his show of emotion.
You smiled at that, for him to be so comfortable in his vulnerability showed you more trust than you knew he was capable of giving another person.
"I thought you were dying, I held you in my arms as your heart stopped." your soft smile faded from your face.
He was so warm , the heat of him all around you and inside of you, getting swallowed inch by inch.
" More" you knew that it was an ugly way to beg, but you didn't care. "Flynn, I want more ."
Your eyes rolled back in your head as he punched his dick into you.
You choked on it.
You loved the way he felt inside of you, he always made you feel so full. Every time he bottomed out you were sure that your kidneys shifted to accommodate his sheer bulk.
Your vision went blurry instantly, your teeth clenching as the pounding ripped through you.
Your toes curled, a groan ripping out of you as you hooked your legs around his hips and shoved your heels into him, urging him deeper , harder.
His hand snuck between your body, pressing harshly on your stomach.
You felt your guts light up, your back arching to press your front against his hot skin.
You could feel the pressure of his hand, your body clenching desperately around the heat and width that was currently ripping apart whatever faint wits you managed to cling to.
You howled as some spot inside of you so deep no one had ever touched it was shoved down, the tip of his penis abusing it, kissing it.
You shuddered and shook, drooling as the next thrust brought a faltering gasp from your throat.
One of his hands found the headboard, the other dropping to hold you around the throat, light, but enough to keep you down.
He used the leverage to slam his hips into you like he was trying to imprint you with the shape of his dick.
The pressure was impossible, it was making your eyes cross.
He hadn't touched your dick, but that hardly mattered.
You came, and you came hard, your body flexing on his cock while a near scream left your throat.
It was intense, but it wasn't the end.
He kept going, a heavy strike falling to your hip and lancing your vision red with the pain.
You let out a strangled laugh at him.
"Fuck, yeah!"
He moved closer, bending your hips upwards to shove his dick balls-deep into you and hold it there, stirring your guts up with a circling of his hips.
"Fuck, Flynn! Please!"
He didn't do what you wanted, he only held onto the headboard and kept rotating his hips against yours.
You let out a sound of defeat.
"You-you're a little shit, you know that."
He grinned down at you, sweat shining on his skin from the rigor of the activities.
"I love it." you reached out to him, pulling him in to peck kisses along his throat and jaw. "I love you."
Your head was in a swim of 'warm, big, strong, safe, mine'; a mess of pleasure and deep relief at his return.
He smiled at you in that rare, soft way again.
"L-love-"
His skin was burning, especially as he began to thrust into your body again.
He planted his hands on either side of your head began fucking you in ernest; slow, hard and deep; the way that he fucked you when he wanted it to last so long that your brain melted out.
"-Love you!"
You kissed him, sucking on his tongue.
He was breaking your pelvis, turning you into dust.
His hands took you by the hips, your legs lifting so much that you had no choice but to hook them over his shoulders.
He was so huge, so beautiful, so stunning. All of that power under your thighs made your spine tingle.
Your head blurred through another orgasm, stickiness on your stomach barely lasting under the constant flow of sweat over your skin.
It was urged on by his steady thrusts, all of that training he had gone through and all the strength he possessed going toward your pleasure, toward turning you to a mess on his cock.
"F-fill me up." you were oversensitized and gasping, the wetness between your legs growing enough to cause a deep squelch as his thick length worked in and out of you. "Flynn, fill me up!"
His face flushed, thrusts becoming faster and more desperate, his rhythm breaking from its near constant beat.
Oh, he liked that.
"I want you inside me, want you to stuff me so full you leak out. Please Flynn, please!"
He groaned on top of you, hand falling between you and rubbing at your over sensitive dick
He wanted you to cum again, he wasn't going to let himself finish until you did.
Sparks of overstimulation ran through you in near pain; something about the expression on his face was reassuring, like he was praising you, telling you that he knew you could do it, he knew you could cum for him one more time.
You shuddered, mouth falling open in helpless agony.
Your vision whited out, body tightening, your exhausted muscles milking him.
There was a rush of heat inside of you, a trickle flooding down your thigh as his hips pressed hard against yours, burying himself balls-deep.
You bit him as he pressed himself closer, bruising an imprint of your teeth into his skin.
It wouldn't last long, but it was something.
Anything with him was enough.
You traced a mindless shape on his chest.
"Do you still want to marry me?"
He immediately grabbed your hand and sat up, concerned.
You were slightly disgruntled that he had to dislodge you from his chest to do so, your worn out muscles screaming in pain (which was his fault by the way).
"I know, but I was thinking about it when you were asleep and I couldn't stop seeing you with your leg removed, and I thought that if I had stayed here-"
"Yes."
You jolted. That was the second time he had ever spoken to you. His voice was the most amazing thing you had ever heard, but it also sounded painful.
You frowned at the very thought.
"Does it hurt when you speak?"
He hesitated, but nodded.
"I don't need you to talk Flynn, I have everything I need now that you're safe."
He smiled softly.
"I want to."
You pressed fingers over his lips.
"Hush, you can say 'I do' on our wedding day if you must, but I already talk enough for two."
He grinned. "Love you."
The flush on your cheeks deepened.
"Um well uh-maybe you can say that too."
"Hey."
your fellow intern jumped about twelve feet into the air.
"holy-YOU'RE BACK!" you found yourself wrapped up in his arms in a moment. "Holy shit dude, you were gone for a month! I thought you were dead! Everyone thought you were dead!"
You shrugged. "Well yeah, apparently you don't need to finish your course load when you're a war hero, they gave me a degree after the video of that gun rescue went viral."
He drooped. "Yeah, I saw that."
"You saw the real thing too, but that's not why I'm here." You gave him a wide grin. "I'm cleaning out my office!"
"And how is that good news, you just got back and now I'm losing my partner in crime?"
"You'll join me eventually!" your grin never wavered. "I got a new gig, better pay and all that." you waved a hand casually. "Besides, my fiance will barely let me out of his sight and the offer is working from home three days out of the week."
"Hold the fuck up!" he grabbed your shoulders and peered closer into your face. "Your WHAT?"
"Oh yeah! Guess I never got to tell you." you held up your left hand. "Um, I said yes!"
He stared in blank disbelief.
"YOU WHAT?"
"I said yes!"
"I thought you said you weren't dating him!"
"And yet you don't need to ask who I'm marrying."
He let out a sound of pure frustration. "Yeah but you can't just- is that part of an anchor bearing?"
You shyly ran your fingers around the ring on your finger.
"Yeah, Flynn keeps trying to get me to replace it with something else, but he can pry this from my cold, dead hands."
"So it's Flynn now, is it?"
"Yeah, it's Flynn. " you were talking about him with a dreamy trill to your voice. "I left him napping back at the house, so I kind of have to make this quick because he's going to be pissed that I left."
He looked a bit concerned. "Why would he be pissed at that? Are you sure you want to marry someone like that?"
"Not like that." you were grateful that he cared that much, but he didn't need to worry about anything like abuse coming from Flynn, the man practically treated you like glass and only ever hurt you when you wanted him to (hell, he could stand to do it a little more, what was one more dislocation in favor of the thrill of an orgasm like the one you had on the bridge?).
"He just saw that video of the firing strip and when he asked about why I was out there; I had to tell him that someone locked me out and he was not happy about me interacting with people that would treat me like that." You winced a bit, a fond grin spreading over your face as you remembered exactly how his reaction to that particular video went.
"Um, he wanted to come here and kill his way through the management, but I convinced him to let it go."
Yeah, 'convinced' him; more like you rode him until he forgot that he was so mad at your (very poor) management in favor of burying his face in your neck and groping your ass like a damn stress ball.
He was perfectly happy taking a nap with you instead of going on a crusade afterward too, he hadn't even tried to sneak away to commit mass murder!
Unfortunately you had snuck away to take care of your business.
"So I'm just trying to get everything packed up and get my phone so that we can plan this wedding before he-"
There was a distinct whooshing sound and you instinctively dove for the nearest cover, wedging yourself behind the vending machine that your fellow intern had sheltered behind.
"Oh shit." you let your head fall back against the wall. "I'm in so much trouble."
The sound of his footsteps was getting louder, clanking on the floor in a way that told you he had suited up to run after you.
You sighed and slowly stepped around the vending machine.
"Hey Flynn!"
His hands were on your shoulders in a blink, heavy and hot. He turned you about a little, carefully observing you for any injuries.
When he had completed his assessment, he crossed his arms and glared at you.
You sighed.
"I know, I'm sorry, but I had to put in my resignation and I also wanted to ask-"
"Wow."
You glanced over at your fellow intern, he looked absolutely gobsmacked as he looked at your fiancé.
"Uh, this is my best man, for the wedding."
Flynn softened and offered his hand to be shaken.
"It's an honor to meet you sir! I'm a big fan of your work!"
Flynn actually blushed a little, completely unused to praise.
It also probably didn't help that everyone was starting to stare.
"Really! I've worked with your fiance for years! We were both huge fans before-"
"Okay! That's enough!" You brushed past your friend and grabbed Flynn's hand. "Time to wrap this up!"
You managed to drag Flynn (now grinning like a smug little Jackal) away from your friend, but before you could get him back to the portal home, a shout from a hallway stopped you.
"Fuck." it was your boss, stalking toward you. "Hey bossman! I haven't seen you since-"
"Where have you been! You caused a load of trouble, not only did you leave your work, you also have a backload of interviews, you were supposed to see them a week ago! You're ruined our company image and-"
"Oh, I quit!"
The bitter old man pulled up short.
"What?"
"I quit?"
"You can't quit! If your school hears about this-"
"I have a validated degree and another job lined up. I. Quit." oh, that felt so good.
"But- I marked you down for interviews, you can't just-"
Flynn growled behind you. Yeah, he growled.
You would have been shocked, but honestly it was hot as fuck.
Your (former) boss gulped and took a sudden step back.
"I think I can, what are you gonna do?" you snickered. "Fire me?" You were not ashamed to admit that you cackled in the face of his incredulous stare. "Good luck." You grabbed Flynn's hand and dragged him toward the portal.
"Now come on! I heard that growl and if it's not against my neck in six seconds I swear to-"
He lifted you up, princess style, into his arms.
You laughed at the expressions on the faces around you, overjoyed as he ran through the portal and toward the first day of your new life together.
Directly toward the bedroom too.