fic: oz, ryan/gloria, pg-13.
Unrelated but life_on_a_plate bought me extra icon time! ♥ ♥ As of now I have no idea why she did it but yay! Thank you, Tizz!
It's nothing more a somewhat redundant drabble-ish ficlet I wrote after ODing on the show one night. I know, WTF, Oz fic and it's het! But it's mostly because Beecher and Keller don't want to play with me and Tim, though the slut he is, insists he doesn't swing that way. Fuckers.
intense care
oz, ryan/gloria, pg-13. hbo and others own, i don't. spoilers up to 4x10. apologies for lame title.
It's a dream. It's a nightmare. Whatever it is, it's wrong.
She lets him in her office, curtains drawn and everything, as if knew it'd happen. Maybe she wanted it to. Telling the CO's she'd call them if she needed anything and they just leave Ryan O'Reily alone with her, just like that. They discuss Cyril, like always, until Ryan makes a comment, slides his hand across her desk to meet hers.
"I want to thank you --" he begins but she denies everything, like always.
"It's nothing, it's my job after all, to take care of Cyril."
"Still, you've been really," and his thumb moves across the back of her hand, "helpful."
He's staring into her eyes with a dark gaze that used to frighten her but now. Now it makes her feel something, everything tingling all over her.
What happens next is hazy, quick, uncontrolled as these things usually are. A mere moment later they're in each others arms, breathing against each other's lips, skin being found underneath clothes. Things are moving fast but she can't, doesn't want to stop any of it.
But still, as if automatic, words come out. "No, we can't. This is wrong."
It's like it's somebody else saying it. She touches him as eagerly as he touches her and they fuck against her desk. She makes noises she hasn't made in years and when it's over, he just stays there with her and says all the things he's been saying all along but she never listened.
"I love you, Ryan O'Reily," she tells him and he grins down at her.
"So wake up," he whispers and she does.
It was a dream. It was a nightmare. Whatever it was, it was wrong. It fades away and she glances at her alarm clock. 5:21 AM.
It would be wrong if she was to. Well. But she won't, she decides, going to work that day, noticing her office doesn't have curtains, never had.
(Because what's even worse than loving a criminal of Ryan's caliber is acting on that love.)
It's nothing more a somewhat redundant drabble-ish ficlet I wrote after ODing on the show one night. I know, WTF, Oz fic and it's het! But it's mostly because Beecher and Keller don't want to play with me and Tim, though the slut he is, insists he doesn't swing that way. Fuckers.
intense care
oz, ryan/gloria, pg-13. hbo and others own, i don't. spoilers up to 4x10. apologies for lame title.
It's a dream. It's a nightmare. Whatever it is, it's wrong.
She lets him in her office, curtains drawn and everything, as if knew it'd happen. Maybe she wanted it to. Telling the CO's she'd call them if she needed anything and they just leave Ryan O'Reily alone with her, just like that. They discuss Cyril, like always, until Ryan makes a comment, slides his hand across her desk to meet hers.
"I want to thank you --" he begins but she denies everything, like always.
"It's nothing, it's my job after all, to take care of Cyril."
"Still, you've been really," and his thumb moves across the back of her hand, "helpful."
He's staring into her eyes with a dark gaze that used to frighten her but now. Now it makes her feel something, everything tingling all over her.
What happens next is hazy, quick, uncontrolled as these things usually are. A mere moment later they're in each others arms, breathing against each other's lips, skin being found underneath clothes. Things are moving fast but she can't, doesn't want to stop any of it.
But still, as if automatic, words come out. "No, we can't. This is wrong."
It's like it's somebody else saying it. She touches him as eagerly as he touches her and they fuck against her desk. She makes noises she hasn't made in years and when it's over, he just stays there with her and says all the things he's been saying all along but she never listened.
"I love you, Ryan O'Reily," she tells him and he grins down at her.
"So wake up," he whispers and she does.
It was a dream. It was a nightmare. Whatever it was, it was wrong. It fades away and she glances at her alarm clock. 5:21 AM.
It would be wrong if she was to. Well. But she won't, she decides, going to work that day, noticing her office doesn't have curtains, never had.
(Because what's even worse than loving a criminal of Ryan's caliber is acting on that love.)