#Why is my mans double cheeked up on a thursday night?

[changbin-froggy-jimin]

Fill You Up Till You're Bursting

Ship: Wooyoung/Seonghwa

Fandom: Ateez/FNAF Security Breach Crossover

Rating: T

Word Count: 3,845

AU: Five Nights At Freddy's Security Breach

Tags: AI Robot Seonghwa, Janitor Wooyoung, Seonghwa has a virus, Seonghwa is an AI, People are dying in typical universe fashion but it's not kids, Seonghwa has anger issues but they're not his fault, Wooyoung is a bit stupid but we love him anyways, FANGS!!!!!, Biting!!!, Venom!!!, Horror elements!!!!

Crossposted to Ao3

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

Wooyoung is a janitor at the newly opened Ateez Pizzaplex, staffed by state of the art AI rockstars. It was every child's dream to have a party there. And Wooyoung would be a liar if he said that he didn't get a job at the place just to be able to relive some part of his childhood. He was content to be one of the few human staff in the building, feeling at home with the robots and AI there.

It's just when staff asks him to start cleaning up mysteriously appearing blood, and soon enough bodies, that Wooyoung starts to get scared of just who exactly is running this place, and why they don't seem to care that the only way that these bodies keep appearing, is the same thing entertaining hundreds of children every single day.

And why won't Rockstar Seonghwa stop staring at him?

(No FNAF knowledge needed to read this!)

(Also I guess you could probably also read this without Ateez knowledge either 🤔)

(Though Seonghwa was based on Glamrock Bonnie, just in case you're curious)

Wooyoung was content to mop the floor. He was content to mop the floor and not think about the robot staring at him. He really really was, no matter how jovial he normally would have been. How he would normally have greeted the other by now.

The only thing he could think about was being pulled to the backroom yesterday by management and being told to clean up the bodies and gore that were left behind.

Nothing… Nothing human could have done that. No living thing had that kind of strength.

Seonghwa stares at him from across the room. He knows he is. Even though Seonghwa is popular, and tending to the various kids around him who want his attention. It’s like he can see the shift in Wooyoung, and Wooyoung is far too scared to look at him now.

This whole place is filled with bots. That was in the job description, that was what he signed up for. Janitor at Ateez Pizzaplex: Don’t have to worry about murderous nutjobs anymore! It’s all bots* (* with only a very few humans included to take care of the bots/facility)

It was nice. Honestly, at least at first, because Wooyoung could avoid various awkward break room conversations. Had no one over him to yell at him if he took too long on his break, no one to stop him from eating the leftover pizza (as gross as it is, he was hungry ok?). And no one to stop him from talking to the various AI around the facility. Yeah sure there were a few human security guards, but they came out at night, when Wooyoung was finishing up his shift, and he would wave at them on his way out and never talk to them besides a goodnight in the groupchat. No one ever replied, and that was perfectly fine with him.

Instead, he had friends outside of work that he had good interactions with, and even more than that. Wooyoung, though shyly admitted, really liked hanging out with the band. Not only just the band, but any of the helpful animatronics and AI that were roaming around, they were all really really nice.

He had formed good, but different relationships with all of them. Though there were a few he was less close to than others. Hongjoong was often so busy he didn’t have the ability to talk to him more. Jongho was still being integrated into the new band. And San was often too busy talking to his adorning tiny fans to be able to talk to him either.

Seonghwa, Mingi, Yunho, and Yeosang though, were a different story. Seonghwa was a main member of the band but he always took care to form relationships with the human staff around him. And Mingi and Yeosang often needed help with cleaning up in their areas that regular staff bots just couldn’t meet the demands of. Yunho was the AI that watched over the whole place and kept his eyes on everything, as well as kept up the human staffs training and schedules.

When Wooyoung was called in, it was to help clean things that were in hard to reach places. Which was basically vomit in odd places mostly. Wooyoung can’t even count the amount of times he’s had to clean it out of the ballpit or had to crouch down into the gears of Mingi’s airboat ride. It was nauseating. But it brought him joy to be able to make everything safe for the kids who would come behind. It wasn’t their fault they got sick, sometimes it was just like that.

Or at least it used to bring him joy to make everything safer. Now he was worried for them. Worried if there was something he could do to make everything better for them. People were dying. And he was helping this place to get rid of the bodies.

How long would it be until it was one of the kids? It had just been adults so far but… Wooyoung tried to shake the thought off. It wasn’t real, it wasn’t real.

It was just pretend blood that washed down his drain along with a healthy amount of bleach.

Seonghwa again tried to get his attention, waving at him once the crowd around him disappeared, he looked like he was going to walk over, but Wooyoung was quick to pull up his Hongjoong branded watch and pretend to be called somewhere else so he wouldn’t have to talk to the robot.

Seonghwa watched with disappointment as Wooyoung walked away, Wooyoung gave him a small wave and mouthed sorry on his way out. He felt bad, and the AI were just too human for him not to feel like he was crushing someone else's feelings.

Normally Wooyoung would happily greet the bot, always happy to talk to him, all wide smiles and loud laughter. It made both Wooyoung and Seonghwa happy. Sometimes Seonghwa would even help Wooyoung clean up just to be able to talk to the human more. Wooyoung was so much more interesting than the other people who came here. While Seonghwa was grateful to everyone who came, of course he was, even if this was in his programming, he loved performing, loved the attention. But when the lights turned off at night, when everyone went home. Seonghwa didn’t think of anyone but the few humans past and present who walked around the facility. They were the only people he could really have conversations with, interact with in any way outside of his programming. It was nice.

And Wooyoung was his favorite.

❀´ ¸.☆¸.✿¸.•°”˜ƸӜƷ˜”°•.•.¸ღ¸☆´ ¸.✿´´¯`•.¸¸.

Wooyoung is cleaning up outside of the daycare, Yeosang already helped for the day, thankfully nothing too major, and Yeosang was made to be a self-sustaining bot. Wooyoung was half convinced that Yeosang only left a bit of mess there so Wooyoung would come and talk to him about something that wasn’t the topics of poop, candy, or animals for twenty minutes.

The topic was almost off his mind, he had headphones in, the children and their parents all being ushered out by staff bots and given stickers as well as well wishes and making both the parents and their children promise to return.

He hadn’t been asked to clean up gore in the back rooms today either, so that was a major plus. The only reason he had come back was that stupid contract anyways. He should have listened better when Beomgyu and Soobin told him to make sure to read it over with a fine toothed comb seeing as how KQ Animatronic Entertainment had many people go missing at their old facilities anyways. Wooyoung just saw the dollar signs and signed his life away. His friends used their God given right to call him stupid to his face, and Wooyoung accepted his lot in life. Such is the way of the person who is slightly out of their mind, but that was fine enough with Wooyoung and his pocketbook. What? Did they actually expect him to do nerd shit like read a contract? He didn’t think so.

He doesn’t hear one of the hallway doors opening. Doesn’t hear the soft footfalls of the animatronic, doesn’t hear the fake breaths he takes as Seonghwa stands way way too close to him to try to get his attention.

“-ng Wooyoung!” Is what he hears as his headphones are taken off his head.

Wooyoung startles, quickly turning around and finding Seonghwa there.

“Have you been avoiding me?”

“No.” Wooyoung says, like a liar. “Why would you think that?”

“I tried talking to you earlier in the Atrium, and it looked like you ran away after seeing me. And then I tried getting your attention in Mingi’s Golf, as well as San’s Raceway. It didn’t even seem like you noticed me.” Seonghwa looks so sad Wooyoung can feel his heart breaking in two.

“I’m sorry Seonghwa, I wanted to talk to you but I was just so busy today.”

Seonghwa raises an eyebrow at him.

“Too busy mopping up to say ‘hi’? Too busy to just wave at me?”

“Seonghwa…” Wooyoung whines. “I have to actually do my job while I’m at work. I can’t just play around with you guys all day, as much as I’d like to, we both know that’s impossible.”

“Wooyoung-” Seonghwa takes another step closer to him and Wooyoung feels himself flinch, taking a step back from the other.

Seonghwa’s face changes from his normal smile, to a confused look, before settling on something angry.

“Why did you step back?”

Wooyoung just shakes his head. “I- I didn’’t mean too, I’m just tired. It’s nothing, don't worry about it.

Seonghwa takes another step towards him and Wooyoung takes another one backwards.

“Wooyoung.” Seonghwa says but he sounds angry, Wooyoung has never heard him sound angry before. It scares him, a shiver running through him. He knows he doesn’t have much space left before his back hits one of the blue painted walls.

“Yes?” He squeaks out.

“Why are you running from me?”

“Running? Whose running? I’m right here. Look how close we are.” Wooyoung tries to gesture to the arms length away they were, still walking backwards while Seonghwa walked towards him like a predator.

An image of his blood splattered against the cheery blue wall behind him flashed into his mind just as his back hit it. He landed between party rooms, both with their entrances pushed further out into the main area, leaving him trapped on either side.

“Did you see them?” Wooyoung looks up at Seonghwa’s face, confused. “The bodies, did you see them?” He prods further.

“You know about them?” Is his reply, why does Seonghwa know about them? He didn’t.. He couldn’t have right? Not Seonghwa… “Why-?”

“You’re ok right? No one’s tried to hurt you?” Seonghwa tried to grab at Wooyoung's arms, probably to check him over, it was something Seonghwa did often. Often too concerned with other people. More than he probably should have been. But it just brings back images of torn off limbs. Muscles and limbs torn from their sockets cruelly. He swears he can hear the crunches from the limbs even though he wasn’t there. His mind plays the sounds on repeat during his nightmares. He just had to hold out for a few more months, a few more months and he wouldn’t be in life crushing debt from breaking his contract. Just a few more months.

Wooyoung pulls his arm out of Seonghwa’s grasp, holding his wrist and pulling both of his arms close to him.

“Are you afraid of me?” Seonghwa says, crowding Wooyoung further into the nook.

Wooyoung swallows and looks down at the floor.

“No.” He says shakily. But he can’t look the other in the eyes, it’s far too hard. He’s shaking, and honestly, he doesn’t think crying would be that far off the table if Seonghwa doesn’t stop crowding him into the wall soon.

“That body you saw, it scares you doesn’t it?” Seonghwa reaches out a fleshy synthetic material covered metal hand. Lifelike, far too lifelike. Running it over Wooyoung’s sweaty and clammy cheek. “Makes you afraid of me?”

Wooyoung is shaking so hard, he feels like he’s going to fall down and vibrate into the floor.

He doesn’t know what he should say, doesn’t know what he should do. Should he tell the truth? That he’s afraid of all of them now? That he’s terrified he’ll be the next body found and cleaned up by some guy named Michael next shift? That he’ll have his limbs torn from his body and placed neatly in a pile only to be taken away to the dump the next morning without another single soul knowing?

He looks up into Seonghwa’s eyes then. It wasn’t him was it? The killer wasn’t Seonghwa who he stupidly considered his friend, it couldn’t be right?

Purple glowing eyes stare back at him, and Wooyoung isn’t sure why he ever found them so cool before, because here, in the dark, being one of the few sources of light, they seem so inhuman, so alienating. Because after all, Wooyoung is so so fragile, and is staring into the artificial eyes of someone who could easily kill him. Tear his muscles from his bones and use his arms as paint brushes.

“I won’t let it happen to you Wooyoung.” Seonghwa says, sincerity weaves into every single word. His thumb brushing away a tear Wooyoung hadn’t realized had fallen until the wetness was spread across his face. “Never to you.”

Wooyoung feels grateful, feels protected for some reason, feels warmth bloom in his chest, but then the words sink in.

“So you let it happen to other people?” Wooyoung smacks away the hand holding his face then. Anger replacing fear and comfort in an instant.

Seonghwa looks away guiltily then.

“Oh my God did you kill them?”

“No I don’t-”

“Then you just stood by while it happened?”

“Wooyoung, I didn’t-”

“Why should I trust anything you say! You murderer!” Wooyoung shoves the other off of him, The other, though stronger and heavier is shocked by the action, sending him back, giving Wooyoung the ability to run but he doesn’t take it.

“Wooyoung...” Seonghwa growls out at him, he should have been able to take the hint, should have understood it for the warning it was. Potential killer robot status should not have been forgotten.

“I thought you were my friend! I thought I could trust you. This whole time you’ve been hurting people?”

Seonghwa grabs both of the hands he’d been using to talk with. Pinning them against the wall. Wooyoung’s eyes widened. His breath caught in his throat. As the huge and powerful animatronic held him, unable to move. Unable to even think about moving. He tried to wiggle out of Seonghwa’s grip, out of the fingers that ended in sharp talons big enough to pluck at the basses’s strings without the need of a pick.

“Stop. Trying. To. Move.” Seonghwa growls out, so close to Wooyoung's face.

“Fuck, please don’t hurt me.” The shaking has returned, even worse this time, and Wooyoung doesn’t know what to do. Seonghwa has never been this violent before, this strange touchy version of himself that Wooyoung has never seen before.

“I’m not going to hurt you. But you need to stay still.” Seonghwa’s form covers Wooyoung’s, crowding into his space.

“What- what are you doing?”

“Something I should have done a long time ago.” Seonghwa shifts Wooyoung’s hands until he only holding them in one of his own.

“Seonghwa please, please don’t do this. I promise I’ll always say hi to you, I promise, just please, please-” Tears are streaming down his face now. He doesn’t want to die, not here, not now. Not like this.

Wooyoung’s face is shoved unceremoniously to the side and into the wall. He can only stare at the empty side of the room, he tries to get a look into the daycare but can’t see anything. He wonders if Yeosang would try to save him if he could.

He feels artificially wet breath on his neck. He tries looking at Seonghwa, he shouldn’t be, but he was curious after all. Only to feel his pulse start to race even faster as he sees Seonghwa’s fangs.

The other is staring at what Wooyoung can only assume to be his neck, and is slowly widening his jaw to be able to fit around more of him. Mechanical gears shifting around and showing off those terribly sharp shiny white inhumanely shaped monster fangs. Wooyoung had thought they were hot before. That the whole band looked amazing with their sharp punk aesthetic, but now that he’s actually being faced with them they’re terrifying.

His eyes hurt being pushed so hard against their sockets just so he can try to get a look, a look at those sharp plastic coated metal teeth. They were going to kill him. Seonghwa was going to kill him. He was so stupid to think that just showing up to work would give him the pass to keep on living.

“Seonghwa please, please don’t do this. Please, I'm sorry!”

Wooyoung watches in horror as a purple liquid starts pooling on the sharp fangs. Dripping slowly onto the floor. He starts squirming again, and still finds himself unable to get out of the others' firm grip.

“Stop squirming little human, it will only hurt worse if you do.” And the fact that Seonghwa’s mouth doesn’t even pretend to move that causes him to cry out. The thing in front of him is so alien now.

He hears Seonghwa’s jaw make a final snapping sound, some of the skin in the corners of his mouth tearing at the action.

And he bites down. Hard.

Wooyoung feels it jolt his body. His breath stutters in his chest. Every sensation in his body focused on the four massive teeth that have forced themselves into his neck. Moving anything in their way to make their new homes in his flesh.

He can feel something being pushed into his body. With every pulse of the new liquid his body twitches.

He can feel his vision going dark, from whatever blood loss he must be suffering from, from whatever poison is probably filling his veins, or maybe even pure shock alone. His vision slowly starts to fade. He’s barely aware when Seonghwa steps back from him, the last thing he sees is his stage outfit, consciousness long gone before he hits the floor.

。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·

Wooyoung jolts awake in his bed. Sweat covers his entire body. He races out of his sheets, checking his neck in the mirror, he had to see it. Had to see just how bad it was.. There’s nothing there. Not blood, no fang marks… Nothing.

He sighs out a breath, clutching sweat-wet hair in his hands and letting out a short frustrated scream. He falls to the floor. It had felt so real, but it couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be.

He needs to stop watching scary movies. Needs to start eating hours before bed instead of an hour before it, if it all.

He curls up in his bathroom, back against his shower.

And cries.

ஐ〰ฺ·:*:·✿ ஐ〰ฺ·:*:·✿ ஐ〰ฺ·:*:·✿ ஐ〰ฺ·:*:·✿

He had called out of work the day before, but he needed to go back, it couldn’t be avoided anymore. In his apartment all he saw was the silhouette of Seonghwa lurking in the corners, terrifying him. In the mirror he swears it’s not his eyes that are looking back at him, sometimes they have this purple iridescent that scares him.

He feels like he’s losing his mind.

So, he does the one thing he knows best. Ignore his problems and go to work.

Once he goes to work it’ll be better, he’ll realize Seonghwa isn’t somehow living inside of his head, watching him, he didn’t force him up against the wall and bite him, filling him with some sort of purple liquid. It was all the terrifying dream his head made up. After all, there weren't any marks in his neck. And he didn’t heal that quickly in a day. So none of it was true, and Wooyoung was fine, and Seonghwa was normal. That’s the way things were and there was nothing that was going to change that.

He doesn’t even think about why he has no memory of getting home two nights ago, because it would break him.

He gets to work and signs in. Scanning his badge and opening the door to the back rooms.

Yunho greets him when he comes in. His cute face lighting up the console.

“Long time no see Wooyoung. How are you doing?”

“It’s only been a day, you miss me so bad already Yunho?”

Yunho’s face lights up with a smile, “Yeah.”

Sometimes Wooyoung really wishes Yunho had a body like the other AI around. He was stuck bouncing around consoles, well. Wooyoung supposes that wasn’t true, Yunho was probably more like an omnipotent hivemind. But when Wooyoung walks around Yunho bounces from his Hong-Watch to the various screens in any given room.

Wooyoung is quick to drop his stuff off in his locker, changing his regular clothes out for his Ateez branded one.

“So you are doing ok?” Yunho asks him again.

“Yeah, why?” Wooyoung says as he pointedly ignores the purple he sees reflected from his own eyes in the mirror. Unused to Yunho asking.

“Seonghwa was asking. He was concerned that you didn’t show up to work yesterday.”

“Tell him to buzz off.” Wooyoung grimaces, it wasn’t fair to be mean to the other just because he had a bad dream. “Sorry, just, if he asks again, tell him I’m fine.”

“Will do bossman!”

It’s been a few hours and Wooyoung still hasn’t seen Seonghwa around. Which was very odd. He should have been up on the stage with the others but instead Mingi had taken his place.

Wooyoung feels something stir in his chest but he’s not sure what it could possibly be. The emotion foreign to him.

He pulls up his watch.

“Hey Yunho, where's Seonghwa?”

“He’s been down in the repair bay since two nights ago. Had some sort of injury. Management sent him down there.”

Wooyoung hums, says thank you to Yunho for the information, and decides to visit Seonghwa when he’d have more time near the end of his shift.

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥

Wooyoung finishes up near the daycare again that night. Going back to the spot where Seonghwa had shoved him up against the wall, and finding no evidence that it had ever happened at all. He was just being silly. He just needed some rest after being so sleep deprived.

He heads into the utility tunnels that run throughout the whole place, finding his way down to the maintenance bay, should he technically be down here? Not at all. But that was again, the fun of running around a mainly non-human run place. Plus the entire security system (Yunho) was on his side and could cover up for him if it became a problem anyways.

He opens one of the double doors leading to the maintenance bay.

And there he is.

Seonghwa.

With his cheeks torn to show off sharp teeth still dripping the mysterious liquid. Eyes glowing an unnatural purple.

“Wooyoung, something is wrong with me and I don’t know how to fix it.” Seonghwa says to him with teary eyes, choking on a sob.

So it wasn’t a dream after all.

When Wooyoung ends up on his back on the floor with Seonghwa’s teeth in his neck again, filling him up with the purple liquid, he shouldn’t be surprised.

His body twitches as Seonghwa looks at him with furrowed eyebrows, like he’s confused at his own actions. And yet still his jaw is wrapped around Wooyoung’s neck, Wooyoung’s body jolting as Seonghwa bites at him harder.

Each pump of the liquid made his body twitch.

He can feel purple tears running down Seonghwa’s face, and he just pets his hair, trying to calm him down.

[bunny-jpeg]

hii! brownies with a side of martini with lando for me please 🤭

bakery menu

want to suggest your own order? look at the menu! i'm constantly writing up orders! i even accept for fandoms outside of formula one!! as for this suggestion, i am really liking that people really want mafia au lando, it's very nice and allows me to think a little more outside the box with the au! i just don't want them all read the same, right? this won't be the last time you'll see lando in a mafia au!! i hope you enjoy this!! <3

brownies ("you're so much more agreeable when you have something to occupy that mouth of yours.") + martini (mafia au) served by lando norris (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, mafia au, enforcer!lando, baker!reader, kitchen sex, oral sex (reader receiving), affectionate!lando, mentions of au typical violence

"these are amazing, honey." lando groaned as he took a bite of the warm brownies you just made. it was comfort food in a way. you always know how to make them perfectly.

you leaned against the counter of the kitchen, you watched your boyfriend devour a piece of the treat with excitement, you sighed, "i don't know. i think it's a little too sweet."

"no way, impossible." he said, "these are going to sell like crazy at the shop. can i have another one?"

you chuckled, and leaned towards him. you wiped a bit of stray chocolate off the corner of his mouth, "you're so much more agreeable when you have something to occupy that mouth of yours."

he beamed at you, "well of course." he then snaked an arm around your waist and kissed you on the cheek, "anything of yours that goes into my mouth would shut me up.

this would look like a true domestic scene. a young couple in love, sharing a late night treat on a thursday. but if someone looked closely at the tattoos on your lover's arms. they would know that he wasn't the prince charming on a full rise scholarship to a university. he was an enforcer for the mclaren family.

lando could fight. that was his whole job, he told you about growing up and the brawls he'd get into. he always told you how many he won and told you not to worry at the number his loss.

when he walked down the street and people saw the tattoos along his arms and the cigarette tucked behind his head. they thought he was big trouble, when you two walked together you often got double-takes from people. why was someone like you, with someone like him.

and while you'd go into detail about how much of a caring lover he was. how much he adored you, all the times he brought you home flowers and kept a polaroid photo on you in the back of his jean pocket. there was something undeniable about lando that made you blush.

he was really good in the bedroom.

not that it was the only good thing about him! he went above and beyond anything any other boyfriend had done for you. he was your ray of sunshine. he made sure his woman was taken care of.

you got up onto the counter after you got your sweatpants and panties off. you knew you should be heading to bed soon for another long day at work. but lando was insistent that he made sure that the love of his life got a proper thank you for making him such a nice treat when he came home.

"double chocolate is great and all." he as he got closer to you. bent over to get between those thighs of yours. he held your legs open and licked his lips, "but, it's nothing like your pussy." he chuckled before he pressed a kiss at your slit.

you held onto the edge of the counter while he started to lick at your sex. his tongue between your pussy lips. he groaned against you as he held onto your hips.

lando was a dangerous man, you had heard whispers through the area you lived in about how evil he was. there was a story about him taking out a guy's teeth tooth by tooth and then smashing his jaw.

he could be intimidating, those eyes could go from friend to sharp in mere seconds. his hands were lined with scarring from other the years and many of his tattoos covered up the other scars.

he'd walk around the main street in nothing but a tank top, loose jeans and a gold chain, his face card never failed and his wit was unmatched. but when he stumbled up the bakery you worked at one day, it was like his entire life changed.

now he was between your legs with his tongue up against your pussy. his nose rubbed against your clit which made you clench up. you held onto the back of his head and guided him up against your pussy. the pleasure was a steady throb that made you flushed.

he was in love with you, if he had to describe the feeling. it was like his heart was whole. that the pieces of him were glued back together by your love. and he in turn wanted to give all his love to you.

"please, lando." you said softly as you ran your fingers through his hair, "you know exactly how to do it." you shuddered at the pleasure in your body.

"only the best for you." he said softly, "only the best." before he gave your thigh a little love tap before he continued to lap at your pussy. you held onto him tighter and his cock twitched in his sweats.

you held onto his curly hair tightly and whined a little. you tensed up as you came, finishing on his tongue. the noises you made had lando feeling good all over. he worked quickly to send you right over the edge. when you nails grazed along his scalp his brain turned off for a moment.

"shit." he grumbled against your slit.

you relaxed after a few moments and panted heavily. you rested up against the cabinets behind you and clung to your boyfriend for a moment longer.

he lazily licked at your sweet slit as he nosed at your clit. he was insatiable when it came to you. you then stroked the back of his head lovingly. he groaned a little at the soft touch.

lando was a mafia enforcer, he hurt people for a living. but his true weakness was his baker girlfriend and her lovely desserts. <3

[stevesjockstrap]

Helping Hands

Written for @stevieweek Stevieween prompt “This is what you’re doing on Halloween?”

Rated M • Stevie/Eddie • female, confident, bisexual Stevie, platonic stobin, modern era, no UD, meet ugly, happy ending • wc 700

She hadn't really planned to be at the laundromat on Halloween night, it had just sort of happened. It was empty, everyone apparently joining in the festivities. But it was a Thursday this year. She worked tomorrow morning.

She was bored, though. Pulling up Robin in her phone to FaceTime, she got an immediate soured look on her face. "This is what you're doing on Halloween?"

Stevie rolled her eyes. "Yes, mom, I'm trying to get fucked this weekend and I needed to wash my mattress cover." She laughed as Robin made fake gagging noises at her.

"You're at work, not doing anything fun either," she reminded her.

"I guess. But everyone knows I live vicariously through your adventures. I hate the laundromat," Robin groaned dramatically.

"God forbid one night of my life is unglamorous, Bobbi," she laughed. "I'm bored, though."

Robin huffed at her fake pout, pretending to be annoyed but putting her phone on the holder that was just for these scenarios, so she could still work on her computer while gossiping with her friend.

"You know what else is unacceptable? Why can I deep throat dicks but I gag when I brush my tongue?"

Robin snorted so violently she sent herself into a coughing fit, doubled over out of sight. Stevie grinned and, enjoying wreaking havoc, continued. "Speaking of dicks," — there came a louder groan amongst the coughing — "Guys are always so into girls squirting, but they've never been the ones to actually get me to. It's only been girls."

Before Robin could catch her breath from the increased laugh/coughing, a man appeared around the corner from her.

"Uh, excuse me miss, but a-are these yours?"

They both looked down at the small scrap of red fabric in his hand. Her lace thong.

He continued, his face nearly as red as the underwear, "They were stuck in the dryer."

Stevie blinked, just realizing she hadn't heard this person come in and didn’t know how long he'd been listening to her inappropriate conversation.

But she had never been shy about these things. She smiled cheekily and flicked her hair over her shoulder, reaching out and feeling the roughness of his hand as she took her panties from him. "Oh, thank you…?"

He flicked his eyes over her quickly and she held back a grin.

"E-Eddie, I'm Eddie. I work here, I mean — I-I help the owner out sometimes, w-with the machines. I'm good with my hands." He winced, probably not meaning that to sound the way it did, especially with what he had just overheard.

"Is that so, Eddie?" Stevie purred, sliding closer.

He ran a hand through his own hair nervously, and she took her time looking him up and down. He was in some sort of work jumpsuit, with letters on a patch she didn't recognize. His hair was long and wavy, a little tangled and messy in a way that actually worked for him. It made her want to yank it. He had full lips and big brown button eyes. He was also quite a bit taller than her, which she definitely liked.

"I know that look," Robin called out from her phone. She'd forgotten about her. "Go ahead and ask for her number, buddy. Trust me, she's a sure thing."

"Hey!"

They both ignored her though, Eddie’s cheeks reddening.

“Better yet, ask her if she needs help putting the waterproof mattress cover back on her bed!”

Stevie quickly hung up on her alleged best friend. Leaning in again, she instead decided to go for broke. “So, Eddie.” He looked like he was about to swallow his tongue. “Tell me, what is your stance on chocolate chip pancakes?”

Eddie surprised her with a chuckle and a wry grin. “I have to say I am pro pancakes of any species.”

The diner down the road was just as empty, and she agreed to bring Eddie to her apartment when it was clear the waitress was trying to close but didn’t want to be rude.

He did end up helping to wrestle her mattress cover back on, and proved it wasn’t just girls who could put it to the test. Good with his hands, indeed.

Dividers by @/enchanthings & @/fuctacles

[soaps-hoe-141]

Speck Lore:

Just some basic info I threw together about five minutes ago based on my little theories I discussed with my friend about him the other night at like 4 am.

-Callsign is actually Speck. Came from when he first left operating and everyone called him Spec-Ops but it was too long so it eventually just shortened to Speck

-He's about 38-40 years old (This is not an age gap fic, maybe next time)

-Speck is…A liar to say the least. He rarely ever tells the truth and it's the due to past issues from his career in the military

-He was not a Marine like he told Price, that's just what he tells anyone who asks

-Speck went through BUD/S which stands for Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training

-He was in fact a Navy Seal Tier One Operator

-He did way more than two deployments overseas and was in countless black ops missions for his country

-There was an incident (will be discussed in the fic later on) that caused him to retire early which is why he is where he is now

-Speck is now contracted to a private company that sends him, basically, where no one else wants to go. The only reason he was in the UK at the time is because he had heat on his ass and needed to lay low for a while. No one is going to search for a southerner in fuckin Birmingham, UK

-Man has a lot of family trauma, and boy do I mean a lot

-He wasn't always out as gay, has been married before, and has two kids he never sees anymore. His ex-wife didn't want him around them after they were divorced and used all his time on deployments to gain full custody of their kids

-Mans is also a gay man from Georgia, I don't know if any of yall have ever been a gay man from Georgia but when you are, and especially from a small town, your family doesn't exactly appreciate the fact their son is gay, at least not usually. God forbid they ever find out you aren't the top in the relationship, man is just out here tryna survive

-Makes hella money now and never sees any of it cause child support a bitch, also alimony

-Anyone who looks at Speck ever: Whatchu doin out here wit all that ass?? Double cheeked up on a Thursday afternoon.

-Is a dog handler

-Has a Dutch Shepherd

-Always covered in dog hair

-Dog's name is Cerberus 

-Thalassophobia - My man hates open water and the ocean

-Gets severely seasick every time he's on a boat. Every. Time. Without fail.

-Avid people watcher, knows too much about everybody and sees more than he should 

-Only sees his kids on facebook and knows nothing about them anymore

-Incredibly aloof

-Doesn't understand emotions because he has cut them off and suppressed them so long 

-Fluent in about 10 languages, Arabic, Pashto, Farsi, Spanish, English, Hebrew, Swahili, Zulu, Yoruba, and Oromo but knows the basics of some Niger-Congo dialects as well

[robynlilyblack]

Never kissed a stranger before

Eddie Munson x fem! kinda loser! reader

Summary: After a rather solemn night, y/n finds herself alone and losing hope, but as they say, things happen when you least expect it

Warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol and drinking, strangers to love interests, first meeting, first kiss, can kinda be rockstar! eddie, little hurt/comfort, one proofread

A/n: 1.5k words, day 5 of my advent calendar is my first ever eddie fic! Please enjoy x

Navigation | Eddie Munson Masterlist

You nursed your drink, sitting at a now empty table as your friends were up on the dance floor. Friends was perhaps a stretch, civil acquaintances might have been closer considering you were only invited because everyone in your department was. Nevertheless you regretted agreeing, Thursday night at what you could only be described was a some kind of club-pub mashup wasn’t exactly your style

One might ask why you came. Conforming to social pressure could be an answer, but really you came out on the odd chance you met someone. Blind hope really, the phrase ‘it’ll happen when you least expect it’ meant nothing to a dreamer like you, not when something as simple as your bi weekly walk to the shops is filled with some fantasy of meeting the so called 'one' in the chilled section

You should have learned to expect disappointment by now, maybe become bitter that you couldn’t find a date to save you, but you didn’t. Hope kept you going, barely, practically on fumes at this point, but without it you would spend all your days sitting in the shower crying to sappy love songs…

“Why so glum, sugar plum?” 

Your eyes flick up, internally preparing yourself to watch the meet cute at the booth next to yours when you see a man smiling down at you. Eyes widening, you tentatively look around to double check he means you of all people, which he seems to get a kick out of, his smirk widening

“Did you really just say why so glum, sugar plum” you question with a genuine giggle, eyes meeting the gentlemens and you find your heart skipping at his big brown eyes, more so as he chuckles himself, hands finding his jean pockets

“Got your attention though didn't it?” he defends with a wink, his smile dropping from almost cocky to a sweet one, and you swear that one makes the butterflies in your stomach go feral “Can I join you?”

“Huh?” you tilt your head, cheeks heating as you heard the question but didn’t register it right away “Oh yeah of course” you gesture to the seat across from you in the booth but he instead joins on your side, half sitting down when he gives you look to ask if you're comfortable with it, and when you nod he plops himself down properly

“So” he smiles, hand gently nursing his own glass, the quarter of liquid left softly sloshing around but your eyes honed in on the rings that beautifully litter his fingers “Why are you sitting yourself?” 

You turn a little in your seat, drinking him for just a moment before forming a reply. He didn’t look the sort that came here often, maybe he was dragged here like yourself as he looked too much like a rocker, in fact you could swear he is, because no one that pretty isn’t on the cover of every magazine

“I’m not really a dancer” you point to your colleagues who look like they are having the time of their lifes to sub par music

“Your friends?” he wonders, leaning a little closer and the wisps of his long curls tickle your cheek

“No, coworkers” you clarify, meeting his side eye for a second before he looks back at them, nodding with a smile

“Thank goodness, I was about to judge you on your choice of friends for a moment” he jests with a chuckle, pulling away to take a small swig of his drink while you find yourself giggling “So why did you come out with these freaks” he turns back to you, wiggling his eyebrows at the last word like it was some kind of inside joke for himself

“You want the honest to god answer that may make me a glummer plum” you ask genuinely, but can’t stop the little sniff of a laugh that escapes at the end

He grins at that, and you can’t help but notice he shuffles just a little bit closer too “Course I do, then I can cheer you up accordingly” his arm shifts to lay on the top edge of the booth, giving you his full attention, something that makes you relax and feel safe yet your cheeks still feel like they’re on fire as you answer

“I’ve been feeling rather…loney” you confess, pressing your lips together as you look down, not wishing to see his reaction and feel further embarrassment

After a second of silence you chance a peak up, his soft smile hasn’t left, but his head has tilted, clearly trying to process “Why come out with them instead of…” he trails off, cringing a little as he doesn’t want to sound mean

“...actual friends?” you prompt and he nods, lips pressed together, looking thankful you aren’t upset with him “I’m not that kind of lonely” you shrug your shoulders a little, hoping he gets it and after a small squint his eyes widen as so does that pretty, pretty smile of his “I was hoping to find…love, as silly as that sounds” you admit further, and jeez you thought your cheeks were on fire before, it's even worse now

“Oh” he places his glass down properly and stands up, your heart sinking for half a second before he turns back and holds out his hand “I can easily help with that, if you accept of course”

You smile back at him about to take his hand without a second thought when you waver, eyeing him “I have a question” you point at him in what you’d later find out was the cutest thing the he’d ever seen 

“Shoot sugar” he lowers his hand and leans down, one hand on the table the other on the plush of the top side of the booth

“What’s your name?” you wonder

“Top secret unfortunately. Stranger danger and all that sweetheart” he winks pushing off the table and booth to hold out his hand once more

You glance at your coworks for a moment, then back at the man, this was one of those moments you have a choice, be responsible, go home and not out with the random stranger that could easily be some kind of murderer, or be adventurous for once, take the leap of faith and maybe have a night you’ll remember for the rest of your life

“So?” he eyes you playfully, his smile positively beaming as you nod and accept his hand, letting him lead you out of the bar and into the snowy streets

You laugh with him as you both slide and slip a little as he half jogs down the street towards the crossroads “Where are we going?” you question as you come to a stop, waiting for the lights to go green, cars humming as they whisk past 

He looks over at you with a toothy grin, squeezing your hand “On our first official date sugar” he leans down and taps his nose against yours, causing your heart to swoon like crazy, love at first sight suddenly seems very, very real “Got anything specific you want to do?” he raises his eyebrows 

“A few” you reveal “One more than the others” you tell him eyes locked onto his before they slowly flick quickly to his chapped lips

“What’s stopping you?” he’s whispering now, hot breath on your face causing you to feel lightheaded as licks lips

You giggle a little, licking your own before whispering back a soft “I’ve never kissed a stranger before” 

“I kiss too many strangers” he confesses, his cheeks tinting and weirdly you don’t feel jealous, like something about how he’s treating you is as foreign to him as it is you “You know we could both try something new tonight, don’t you think miss…” he extends the syllables, hinting, big brown eyes full of hope

“Y/n” you answer right away, breathless with hoe his lips now ghost yours

“Pretty name for a pretty girl” he states before connecting your lips

It’s softer than you’d thought it would be, sweeter, yet more thrilling than if it was solely fueled by passion. Never would you have thought the pretty rocker boy in denim would kiss like a gentleman, that his hand would cup your cheek, thumb flicking over it like it was the most precious thing in the world 

The lights have turned green more than once by the time you both pull away “Wow” you breathe out, chest heaving gently as you open your eyes to find his lips are plump, pink around the edges and your heart fills with pride that you did that

“Wow’s an understatement sugar” he chuckles, forehead kissing yours for a second before his thumb and forefinger sweetly pinch your cheek “How does it feel to kiss a stranger?”

“Better than I ever could have imagined” you shake your head a little, still in disbelief yourself of how life altering the last few moments have been “How does it feel to kiss a girl called y/n?” you counter back

“Better than I ever could have imagined” he repeats your words with dare you say more conviction “I’m Eddie” he finally introduces himself, smiling fondly as you repeat his words as well

“Pretty name for a pretty boy”

Damn, maybe everything does happen when you least expect it

Thank you for reading ♡

[slytherbun]

confession

pairing: jay halstead x reader

summary: you find yourself in some trouble while clearing a location with your partner jay.

word count: 2.8k

tags: @specialagentsoftie @fighterkimburgess @everythingaddictxx

note: different kind of pd fic then i'm used to but hope y'all like it! ☺

"we're eight minutes out. don't go in yet." voight said into the mic but you and jay had already entered a second too late.

jay's been your partner for almost a year now. the one he had before you was a blonde named hailey that took a position from the fbi.

when you first met him it was about a month after the previous detective left and you could tell he was obviously still in denial. you gave him space and only input your opinion about cases you worked on with intelligence.

it took about three weeks until he actually said anything besides the occasional comment. and he knew deep down that you weren't trying to replace her. but since you were together a lot during the week—jay couldn't help but make his own conclusion about you.

he started to open up more when he looked past the stubbornness after concluding that you were a decent person. for a moment there, you could have sworn he was having an out of body experience with how nice he started treating you.

jay started to invite you out to drinks on a periodic basis. he wanted to explore the possibilities of having you as his permanent partner. one night after a couple of drinks, jay was in a good mood and showed you a picture of his old partner.

the two of them were standing in front of their new work truck with bright smiles on their faces. he talked about her a lot after that night as a way of meeting you half-way. and by the end of that month—it was as if you physically knew her and who she was as a person.

the both of you hit it off pretty well and became friends. even as far as, having drinks every tuesday and thursday after work at molly's—the firefighter owned bar.

jay mumbled a curse at the order voight gave but it was already too late. "get behind me." he spoke in a hushed whisper. not wanting to argue in that particular moment you did as told.

detective halstead had his gun raised and in a firm grip around his fingers before stepping further into the house. you followed his position and warily stepped more into the creaky house.

luckily the both of you had vests already on and around your chests. the material easily gave you a visual view of his arm muscles around the freckles splayed across his biceps.

right away you spotted the cans of spray paint sitting on the concrete living room floors. crude words were traced along the four walls and you couldn't help but scrunch your nose at the horrid smell.

it only had you raising your pistol higher.

while you glanced around to survey the room closely, you couldn't help but notice the gang symbols that you were familiar with. due to the cpd database you knew at least three different affiliations drawn over the wood boarded windows.

the overused drug house looked like something out of a horror movie.

"clear." he grunted between paced cautious breaths and you continued to walk behind his careful steps around the garbage to venture into the main hallway of the house.

jay stopped at the entryway and you turned back around to double check the area once again while he scanned the front view where you and he needed to go.

both sides of the hallway were clear but he made sure his gun was raised and followed every inch of the hallway space that he inspected.

you felt a tap on your waist and turned back around to see jay was still facing forward. he probably hadn't noticed the spot he touched of your body but it still sent shivers down your spine with the intimacy of it.

but you pushed away the anxiousness to check and see what was bothering jay. the only thought you should be having right now is how to get out of the dangerous position.

the hallway was full of open and vulnerable space. a clear point of range that could be taken advantage of to take either you or jay out at any time.

jay was concerned for you. he couldn't help the anxious feeling that he had in the pit of his stomach. the unknowingness ahead in the crack house irked him greatly that he couldn’t predict what was about to happen.

the walls of the hallway smelled highly metallic and if that hadn't given it away, the walls were filled with fresh blood splatter. you gulped at the sight of the bright red handprints going down the length of the hall and glanced at jay from the corner of your eye with an eyebrow raised.

he sighed and nodded his head while pointing his gun to the left to signal the continuance of moving on. you bit the bottom of your lip and tipped your head to let him know you were ready to go.

turning your body in a three hundred sixty angle, you watched his back and felt the hairs on the back of your neck lift up in a static gesture. you could also feel goosebumps all over your arms and you just wanted to hurry up and get out of there.

it was truly the most awful scene you've ever been to. with everything you had—you kept yourself together and calm. your lips were in a straight line the whole time.

you should have known with the uneasy feeling that things were going wrong within a split second. and you were right because after jay turned just slightly he felt a gun being pressed against his forehead.

“put your guns down or else i’m going to blow his head off.” an angered voice said into the echoey hall.

not believing what was happening, you turned your body to survey the area and another man came into your view and held his gun higher. “‘tsk tsk’ miss. hand me that gun or else we’re going to have problems.” jay sighed from behind you and you rolled your eyes.

“i’m not putting down shit until you tell me your demands.” you said maybe a little too cockily but it was protocol.

voight had told the team plenty of times to stall and not give up your gun at first. in hopes that the other’s would show up and it would become a better outcome if you just continued talking to the person who was a threat.

a third one appeared and now you were officially outnumbered but you were still hoping they were dumber than they looked. the one that was pressing a firearm to your partner’s temple spit out, “listen lady. you either put your weapon down or else his brain matter will be just another body that was paved across the walls of this house.”

you tried to calculate in your head quickly if you should take the risk of surrendering. voight said they were eight minutes out. and if you’ve been in the house for almost four minutes now.

that was half the time left until they were going to show but then those few precious minutes would be enough time for literally anything.

sometimes you hated being a part of the police force. how could you ever know the correct answer and outcome within a split second of your life? could anybody be capable of that? whatever choice you decided to take would be the outcome.

you knew you wouldn’t be able to live without jay as your partner and in your life. and his blood would be on your hands if you didn’t surrender now. a shaky breath fell past your lips when you clicked the safety back on and handed it to one of them.

of course they used your gun against you and headbutted you with it. little black spots were in your vision before it completely knocked you out. you just hoped the intelligence team would be able to find you and jay.

it would be your fault and you’d feel guilty until your last breath if they didn’t.

you weren’t sure how much time had passed but a hard slap against your cheek woke you up. a blood trail still continued to trickle down your forehead and you winced at the feeling of an awful beating in your eardrums. “wake up sleeping bitch.”

you tried to speak but instead you coughed at the buildup in your throat. not being able to help yourself, in a snarky tone you replied. “i thought it was sleeping beauty?” that earned you another slap that ensured fingerprints across your cheek but you weren’t feeling any regret about it.

“now shut up and answer my next question.” he inputted before you could interrupt again. you looked at him with a devious grin and he rolled his eyes in annoyance. “what were you looking for in that house?”

when you leaned forward, you realized the reason why you couldn’t move was because your arms were tied behind your back. but nonetheless you leaned forward encroaching in his space enough to feel his breath span out against your red cheek.

“as if i’d tell you.” your defiance had him pushing your head back forcefully so you hit the concrete behind you, feeling as if a baseball bat hit your skull.

he smirked at your uncomfort. “perhaps a little visit with your boyfriend will help you come to understand that i don’t mess around. if you don’t give me an answer—my boys won’t hesitate to put a bullet straight through his head.” your only reply was a silent one.

spitting blood onto his shoes and he cursed before grinning again. “yeah that’s what i thought.” turning his head towards the door, he yelled. “bring the pretty boy in!”

your shoulders immediately dropped when they entered the room. the other two men from earlier were dragging jay into the room and disposed of his body roughly on the ground in front of you. if it weren’t for his chest rising up and down faintly then you would have thought he was dead.

both of his eyes were already swollen and you knew he would have two black eyes for weeks, dried blood dripped down his face and you didn’t even want to look at the rest of his body. despite the fact he was wearing clothes, you knew he had many internal problems that would need only the care a hospital could provide.

“j-jay?” you stuttered at the sight of him.

he kept blacking out and struggled to stay awake. jay had been counting his breaths to make sure he had enough air circulating through his body. cracked ribs were no joke and he could only groan to let his favorite person know that he was still holding on.

“you think beating people is the only answer? violence?” you glanced around the room and glared at the three with a venomous look. they shared similar smiles hearing how hoarse your voice was.

“i hope my team finds you all and you rot!” the two that brought jay in walked away and the one that talked to you a few moments ago stood and looked down at you. saying one more thing before walking out the door and shutting it. “and i hope next time i come in here—you’ll feel more generous and tell me what you were up to. if you don’t then our pretty boy here will die as promised.”

as soon as he left the room, you started rubbing your arms up and down the wall in hopes that the binds around your wrists would break off. “y/n.” jay mumbled. you didn’t even notice he had turned his face and you shushed him. “don’t open your eyes jay. it’ll be okay, i promise.”

he tried again. “y-y/n. i need to t-tell you something.” jay’s lip was busted and bruised. he hissed at the pain. “you don’t need to tell me anything. we’re getting out of here, detective halstead.” you stated with confidence and continued to run your hands up and down despite the sting of your wrists.

jay had a feeling earlier this morning that something bad would happen. his gut had told him something and he wished he hadn’t ignored it. but he can’t always follow everything, especially when they didn’t even have their case yet. but of course after finding out the hard way, this case was bad.

he knew it and it still put you in harm's way but jay had to tell you how he felt just in case it did go the way he was hoping it wouldn’t. “i don’t care if i need to keep my strength right now. listen to me please.” he pleaded and you finally stopped, turning to glance at his face.

jay was squinting and the visual of his state had your stomach churning.

“y/n i haven’t been completely honest with you and i need to tell you this. i’ve wanted to for a while now, but i just couldn’t find the right moment to.” it was getting to the point where you were desperately trying to keep together. and now that he wanted to confess a deep secret that he’s held close to his chest, the whole thing just had you hysterical.

jay frowned when you started laughing. he tried to scoot closer but the pain he felt was significant. it was just one of those situations where it wasn’t an appropriate response but you couldn’t help yourself either.

he noticed the tears falling down your cheeks while watching you quiet down. a reaction like this didn’t surprise your partner so he didn’t blame your outburst in the least. “i’m s-sorry. i’m sorry.” you muttered and tilted your head to both sides.

you looked back over to jay after successfully wiping more than half of the tears on your sleeve. and for a moment he just gazed into your eyes with his blue ones. a look that you couldn’t decipher nor describe appeared across his face but he seemed to snap out of whatever he was thinking.

jay cleared his throat and continued with what he was about to say earlier. “it’s okay y/n. but i need you to know that i don’t blame you in the slightest for what went down in that house. i would have done the same exact thing because i love you.”

it was like time stopped and you couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. after all of that time you spent with jay. him wanting nothing to do with you, then becoming your acquaintance, somewhat of a real friend and he loved you?

“you really love me?” you questioned. not being able to believe what was coming out of his mouth. you wondered if the three men drugged him and he was high or delusional. a grunt came out his mouth at the current aching pain he felt all over his body.

“yes y/n, i love you so much. if i could, i’d be over there right now and giving you a hug. then i’d lean down and give you a kiss that i’ve been wanting to give you for months now.”

that honesty from him had you laughing, “months? me too. i’ve wanted to kiss you for almost the whole year that i’ve known you.” you replied with the same amount of honesty he had given you.

“yeah, y/n. it’s probably going to be a year soon but i meant what i said. i really do love you and i’m sorry we’re in the situation that we’re in now. i wish i could protect you from this.” before you could reply the two of you heard gunshots outside of the room. “shit! i hope that’s them.” you mumbled and jay nodded as best as he could.

the door banged open and hit the wall. you almost peed your pants with how happy you were to see kevin and adam surveying the room. “clear!” kevin announced and then walked over to you and jay. adam spoke into the radio, “5021 ida. we have officers down and need two ambos rolled to our location.”

after kevin ripped the binds from your wrists, you crawled over to jay even though your arms were killing you. another tear fell down your cheek when you got up and close to him. he looked awful but now that the two of you were safe, he could begin to heal soon enough. “jay.” he made a ‘hmm’ sound due to the exhaustion he was feeling.

“i love you too.” you finally said and he smiled. you leaned down to brush your lips against his carefully. “after all of this is done. i’m going to give you a proper one.”

you winked and he grinned and responded while the medics rolled in. “we have plenty of time in the world now.”

[storiesofsvu]

First Date Blunders

The E.R had been a bit of a bustling mess all day, you were doing your best to keep everything straight in your brain between it and the trauma rooms as you shifted between them and completing your rounds. The nursing staff was spread thin to say the least, you and your best friend Alyssa nearly jogging from room to room to make sure everything was under control.

You finally had a moment to breathe and were ever so thankful to be able to hide behind the desk of the nurses station for a moment. You pretended you were double checking a chart, but your brain was taking a break as you scrolled through various apps on your phone, jumping when you heard your name spoken, though you softened once you realized it was that adorable Staten Island accent accompanying it.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?” You jolted your gaze up, stashing the cell phone in your pocket, “how can I help you Detective?” You stood from your chair, ready to move around the desk, figuring there was a patient. “I…thought Benson was already with your patient?”

“I-uh…yeah she’s gonna be okay.” He stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck as his cheeks began to adorably flush, “I was actually wonderin’ if you were free for dinner, or somethin’ this week?”

“Oh…” you laughed brightly, “I…uh…yeah..my weekend’s kinda weird, Wednesday Thursdays, but we could try another day.”

“I’m off Wednesday night!” Sonny nearly jumped at the realization.

“Perfect.” You smiled, “I Uh…guess it’s a date detective.” You smiled.

“Yeah…” he flushed as he slid you a business card, “please…text me, I’ll send you the details.”

“Course Sonny.” You giggled at the sight of his cheeks turning even pinker at your use of his first name. You giggled louder once he was out of the room, nearly shrieking alongside Alyssa.

You’d been doing your best to respectfully flirt with the detective for months, but considering his line of work, you always felt a little weird hitting on him while he was trying to do his job. But he was always so sweet, always looking at you with the crystal blue gleam in his eyes that you were sure he must at least somewhat think you were cute. Today just confirmed that, and you texted the rest of the afternoon while you laid out plans for your much awaited first date.

*

“Hey!” Alyssa greeted you with a smile in the locker room as you both finished your shifts, “we’re still doing heart shaped pizza’s and Bring it On tomorrow, right?”

“What?” You quirked a brow, “I’ve got that date with Sonny tomorrow. I thought we were hanging out on Friday?”

“We made plans for Valentines.” She shot back, a slight gleam in her eye, “did…he ask you out for dinner on Valentine’s Day?”

“Oh God!” Your hand shot to your mouth, “I didn’t even realize! My brain’s been such mush with the dates, I thought it was just another day. Oh fuck! I was the one that suggested tomorrow!” Alyssa couldn’t help but cackle at your realization, “oh no…what if he thinks I’m some kind of freaky stage five clinger?” You turned to her with wide eyes written with worry.

“I’m sure he doesn’t think that.” Alyssa reassured with a quick arm squeeze before leaving you to dwell over a potential disaster of a mistake in the change room. At least you’d already set the date, the worst that could happen was if he stood you up.

*

“You wanna come watch trashy reality t.v with me and Frankie?” Amanda asked as she rounded his desk.

“That your way of sayin’ ya don’t wanna cook tonight?” Sonny teased back. “I’d love to but I’ve got a date tonight.”

“You holdin’ out on me?” She perched on the edge of his desk, expecting more details.

“Nah, just takin’ her for dinner.”

“You managed to get a reservation for tonight?”

“What’ya talkin’ about?”

“Carisi it’s Valentines Day!” Amanda laughed, “oh man, are you gonna be in trouble for forgetting? Why didn’t you tell me about her? I could’ve helped you plan something.”

“Shit…’cause this is our first date..” he winced, causing Amanda to howl with laughter. “I thought it was just Wednesday!”

“Well, good luck.” She clapped him on the shoulder, a smile still on her cheeks while she headed for the elevator.

*

You were waiting outside of Marseille, slightly pacing, nervously checking your phone far too frequently. You’d specifically chosen a blue dress, straying away from the stereotypical Valentines colours or themes to help display that this was just another first date for you, nothing extremely special. The jitters were getting a little worse with every moment that dragged by, noting all of the sappy couples coming and going through the streets of Manhattan. You’d checked your phone for the millionth time when you heard Sonny’s voice ring out, you turned toward him as he jogged up to you.

“Doll, I am so sorry I’m late, I’ve been on the phone trying to find a reservation for anywhere around here. I completely forgot it was Valentines Day.”

“You did?” It felt like a balloon burst within you, the jitters vanishing at his words.

“Yeah, I’m so sorry, I don’t have a reservation but we can go someplace else.”

“Oh thank God!” You let out a breath, “I was freaking out! I didn’t realize the date either and when Alyssa pointed it out I started to think you’d think I was some creep, or expected a super expensive, lavish date even though it was the first one and that you’d”-

“Doll…” he chuckled, grasping your shoulders to pull you back down to earth from your rant, “I don’t think you’re a creep, or high maintenance. Turns out we’re both two people who don’t know how calendars work.” That earned him a small laugh, “I just hope we can find a place with space.” He flushed, hating that he’d made the mistake of booking a table. You chewed on your lip for a moment, taking in your surroundings.

“Dave’s Tavern is just down the block?”

“Ya sure? I promised ya a nice night out.” You laughed, linking your arm in his.

“Yeah. It’s a dive, but they’ve got killer mini yorkies, besides, chances are it’s not all decked out for the holiday.”

“Okay.” He smiled down at you and followed your lead down the street.

As suspected, there were only a few regulars up at the bar and the place was completely void of any pink decorations. You settled into a table, ordering a round of drinks and some appetizers to split while you worked through the unavoidable somewhat awkward small talk. After your second round of drinks the awkwardness had dissipated, filling each other in on silly childhood or work stories. Sonny grimaced in apology as he realized the crime scene he’d mentioned was far from savoury and you reminded him that you saw a heck of a lot of blood every workday.

Moving from the booth you battled it out in a couple rounds of darts (that you absolutely crushed him in) and a few games of pool (that he blew you out of the water), you teased that it was due to the unfair advantage of his lanky limbs. As the hours dwindled by you slowly decided to settle the tab, Sonny of course was more than insistent on taking care of it, offering up that you could buy him a coffee next time he was at the hospital. He was the perfect gentleman the entire night, obviously, and true to that he insisted on walking you home, linking his fingers between yours for the duration of the night.

Once you’d arrived on your apartment’s stoop you turned slowly to him, keeping your hand linked in his.

“I had a really good time tonight Sonny.”

“Me too.” He smiled, a warmth spreading through his chest, “suppose you’d like to do it again next week?”

“As long as we steer clear of major holidays this time?” You joked, “I’d love to.”

“Can I ask ya somethin’?”

“I believe you just did detective.” You grinned.

“Would uh- it be okay if I kissed you?”

“More than okay.” You beamed. His hand gently cupped your cheek while he ducked to meet your lips in a soft kiss. Your hands briefly wrapped around his neck, pulling you up onto your toes to return the kiss eagerly. It was tender and gentle, while a little hesitant at first it became more comfortable, smiling against each other’s lips before you pulled apart.

It was the perfect ending to a perfect night that had been a nearly messed up date.

[starryhyuck]

thin ice. (m)

pairing: icehockeyplayer!mark x figureskater!reader

words: 2.6k+

summary: mark lee is the only thing standing in the way of your team’s victory. therefore, fucking him dumb is the best way to defeat him.

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: dom!mark, sub!reader, overstimulation, constant fucking, bathroom sex, talks of car blowjobs, sex on the floor, (slight) breeding kink, creampie, hair pulling

disclaimer: i have no idea how figure skating or ice hockey works, i literally fell on my ass when i tried to step on the ice

Thirty seconds.

Thirty seconds left and the money is all yours. You can see it now — the lavish outfits, brand new skates, and even silk hair ties for when you want to play dress up. Mark Lee just has to miss this shot.

“He’s going to fucking make it,” Doyeon hisses in your ear, chewing on her nails in anticipation.

“Shut up!” You push her away and tell her to stop damaging her fingers.

You watch as Mark glides across the ice, almost knocking into Doyoung twice. “Slam him, slam him!” You screech, ignoring the stares of people around you. You simply want to see Mark get wiped out so glory can be within your reach.

You feel your world collapse when the puck hits the net, time stopping in slow motion as the crowd jumps up in pure bliss. Doyeon’s already crying in your shoulder, and you hear the angry shouts of Chaeyoung on your other side.

Mark Lee, you fucking asshole.

—

Since you were five years old, the ice became your home. And no, you didn’t have an awakening and gain powers like Elsa from Frozen. Your mother discovered how much you loved figure skating, even though your brother, Johnny, was a tall, bumbling mess once he stepped in the rink.

Once your talent was discovered, you were enrolled in figure skating classes and spent most of your afternoons gliding around the ice. You were excited to learn that you could possibly do the sport professionally if you practiced hard enough, but nobody told you how difficult the athletics administration could be.

You were scouted for your college because of your talents in figure skating, many believing you would be a great candidate for the Winter Olympics. However, when you arrived to campus, you learned that you would never be the first priority in the athletics budget.

It was a constant battle between figure skating and ice hockey for the money. Most of the funds went to football and basketball anyways, so you didn’t have much to fight for in the first place. The deal made by the athletics department was simple — if the ice hockey team could not carry themselves to a national championship, the rest of their budget would be distributed to your team.

The victory was within reach until Mark Lee scored the winning goal Friday night, making the ice hockey team one step closer to the national title.

You’re currently waiting for them to finish practice, tapping your foot impatiently as you stand besides the opening to the rink. You finally hear the boys finish up, laughing with one another as they exit. Their eyes narrow at the sight of you.

“Don’t you have better things to do?” Ten asks.

You smile. “Nope. Sicheng, we need to talk.”

The captain sighs and follows you until you’re out of earshot. “What is it now?”

You scoff. “You know damn well my team deserves the money more than you do. Worlds is just around the corner and we need the money in order to get there.”

Sicheng laughs at you, still holding his helmet from practice in one hand. “Please. Don’t act like you’re doing this for your team, we both know you’re just wanting to advance for yourself.”

If you could punch Sicheng without facing a lawsuit, your life would be so much easier. You take a step closer to him, ignoring the immediate flush in his cheeks at the proximity.

“I hope your team fails at the next game. I’ll be watching when you do.”

“Stop harassing him.” Mark approaches the scene, pulling his captain’s shoulder and pushing him away from you. “Just face that your team won’t make it. Can’t blame us for your failure.”

You smile sweetly at Mark. He’s been haunted ever since Donghyuck leaked his secret that he used to like you during your freshman year. Mark used to follow you around like a lost puppy, but now, he has no hesitation putting you in place. You know you still have the advantage over him because after all, he can’t deny the way his heart beats when he sees you.

Sicheng observes as you grip onto the fabric of Mark’s uniform, pulling him close until his nose is inches away from yours. Mark gulps at the proximity, not feeling so confident anymore.

“Don’t act like if I dropped to my knees right now, you wouldn’t jump at the chance to stuff my mouth full-”

“Okay!” Sicheng exclaims, pulling the blushing boy to his side. Mark’s cheeks are almost as bright as his uniform. Sicheng glares at you. “We’re going to win on Friday. Then, I’m taking your entire team’s budget.”

You smirk. “Good luck with that.”

—

“I’m not sure this is going to work,” Yeji remarks, watching as Doyeon pulls a tight black dress over your head. You roll your eyes at her comment while Chaeyoung helps you adjust the spaghetti straps of your dress.

“Don’t be so negative,” Seojeong flicks Yeji’s forehead, causing the younger girl to glare at her.

You’re all gathered in Doyeon’s living room, trying to hatch out a plan that Yeji believes is doomed to fail. Tonight was the celebratory party before the game, a dumb idea concocted by Donghyuck on every Thursday night. It goes to show how irresponsible the ice hockey team really is, getting wasted the night before their biggest game. However, tonight works in your favor, because as demonstrated just a few days ago, you still have Mark Lee in your waiting palm. All he needs is a little push away from his teammates and you’ve fully got him. Once the plan is in place, you highly doubt Mark will be able to perform well tomorrow. Considering he’s the team’s best player, taking him down secures a win for the figure skating team.

“Does everyone know their roles?” You check again, eyeing Yeji from her spot on Doyeon’s couch.

She scoffs. “Of course I do.”

“Good,” Chaeyoung nods. “Remember that this isn’t just for us but the future figure skaters for years to come.”

None of you have time to comment on Chaeyoung’s dramatics, already seeing how stressed she is by the way she tugs at her hair frantically trying to apply lip gloss on you. The girls finish getting you all dolled up when Seojeong gets a text.

“Yuta says Mark’s ready,” she announces. You thank the heavens that Yuta was able to get in the ice hockey’s team good graces, none of them expecting the figure skater to be a double agent.

“Let’s get him then,” you grin.

You’re quickly shoved into Yeji’s tiny car and the five of you are off to Donghyuck’s apartment. There’s commotion when you arrive — Sungchan standing on the couch and declaring Sicheng the cutest man alive, Ten giggling with Yangyang by the kitchen counter, Donghyuck’s tongue shoved down a random girl’s throat and Jeno trying to save Mark from choking in the bathroom. Your eyes meet Yuta’s and he winks at you, making sure no one else has seen your arrival. You lean on the doorframe of Donghyuck’s bathroom, smiling at the two of them. Jeno sees you first, urgently patting Mark’s back to save him.

“What’s wrong? Did he see a naked girl or something?”

Mark’s eyes shoot up at the sound of your voice and he gets even more flustered, coughing and choking even more now.

“Why are you here?” Jeno frowns.

You smile and shrug. “To enjoy the show. I can handle Mark from here, Jeno.”

Jeno laughs. “As if I would leave him with you.”

“But Yeji’s waiting in the living room. Are you really going to keep her waiting?”

You smirk at Jeno’s confliction before he finally gives in, leaving Mark and you in the bathroom. You shut the door while Mark recovers, downing a glass of water to help the food go down. “Why are you really here?” He asks once he’s calmed down. He tries not to linger on what you’re wearing, the swell of your breasts tempting him in this close proximity. His gaze flies to the ceiling when your hand wraps around his shoulder, pulling him in closer and letting his fingers rest on your hip.

“What’s wrong, Mark? Scared of a little action?”

“I know what you’re doing,” he hisses. “We’re going to win tomorrow. You can’t stop me.”

You pout. “Is the win really worth it, Mark? Do you want it more than my pussy around your cock?” He grunts lowly, fingers tightening around your waist. You smile. “Or what about your cock shoved down my throat until I can’t breathe? You could easily bend me over the sink and take me any way you want. Doesn’t that sound so much better?”

“Don’t,” he warns you, cord about to snap. “You’re being such a brat.”

He needs one more push. You lean closer to whisper in his ear. “Please, Mark? I want your cum inside me. Need it dripping down my thighs so everyone can see who I belong to.”

He breaks, growling as he pushes you against the sink. You giggle when his lips crash into yours, his hands quickly moving to push up the fabric of your dress. He delivers one slap to your clothed clit and you moan at the sensation.

“Fucking annoying whore,” he scoffs at you. “Look at you. So fucking desperate for money that you would drive all the way here just to take my cock like a good girl. That’s what you want, isn’t it? For me to fuck you until you cry?”

You nod frantically, whimpering. “Please please please. I want it so badly.”

He shoves two fingers in your dripping hole and you cry, back arching against the mirror. Mark’s fingers grip your cheeks and he turns you so that you’re looking right at him. You hold his stare when his thumb rubs frantically at your clit, fingers curling inside of you.

“S-So good, so good,” you blubber, eyes rolling back at the pleasure filling your veins.

You whine when he retracts his fingers but he’s quick to drop to his knees, ripping your underwear and flinging it to the side so he has no obstacles in his way. He immediately dives into your pussy, licking and sucking at your folds. You internally curse. You had no idea Mark was this good at eating pussy or you would’ve prepared yourself more. Your fingers tangle in his hair as his lips attach to your clit, abusing the nub by sucking harshly.

The pain throws you into your first orgasm, whimpering loudly as you fall apart around Mark’s tongue. He quickly cleans you up, not missing any of your juices as he licks your pussy clean.

His eyes darken when he stands, taking in the sight of you looking so fucked out on top of the bathroom sink. He’s about to unbuckle his belt before you stop him.

“I want to fuck at your place. Please?”

He nods at your request, helping you get down and adjusting your dress. It’s a little harder to walk since Mark ripped your panties, but you make do. You two exit the bathroom and you’re about to leave before you hear Donghyuck’s voice.

“Where the fuck are you two going?”

You glance at Mark, who’s a little irritated by his teammate’s appearance.

“Mind your own fucking business, Donghyuck.”

You smirk at the blonde boy’s shocked expression as you two leave his apartment. Mark walks fast, fumbling with the keys to his car.

“I didn’t know you could drive.”

“Trust me, I can’t.”

The drive to his apartment involves two pit stops, the first one happening because you desperately want to give Mark a blowjob and the second one happening because Mark desperately wants to taste you again.

When you finally get to his apartment, the both of you are already a mess. You don’t even make it to the bedroom — Mark shoving you down on his living room rug and pushing his cock deep inside you. You moan at the intrusion and Mark wastes no time, setting up a fast pace and ramming his cock into your sweet spot over and over again. You’re a drooling mess, letting him abuse your pussy. His fingers tangle into your hair and he pulls you upwards. He balances you so that your back is against his chest.

“Such a perfect little slut for me. What would the panel of judges at Worlds say when they see you? The future Olympic gold medalist begging for cock?”

“I would let them see,” you whisper back at him. “Let them know what lengths I would go to just to win that fucking competition.”

You fall apart around his cock again, your orgasms coming faster after the first two. You whine when you hear Mark’s constant grunts filling your ears.

“Cum inside, Mark. Want all of your cum.”

“Yeah? Little whore wants it all? Wants to be bred like a good little bitch?”

You cry. “Yes, yes, yes! I want it so badly.”

That’s all it takes for Mark to shoot ribbons of white inside of you, coating your insides. You both collapse on the floor, exhausted.

A few minutes pass in silence before Mark speaks up. “I’m ready to go again after I eat some ramen.”

You laugh. “Make it two servings and I’ll be ready.”

He eagerly gets up and shuffles to his kitchen. You smirk, searching for your phone and shooting a text to the group chat.

I’ve got him. The money’s all ours.

After eating ramen and chatting for a little bit, Mark takes you again on the barstool of his kitchen. Then, he fucks you up against the wall, on his couch and in his bed.

He’s thoroughly fucked out when you two finish and you smile, leaning over to kiss him.

“Good luck with your game tomorrow.”

You leave him laying in his bed, wondering if he just jeopardized the future of his team.

—

There’s one minute left in the game.

The team is down by one point and they’re all looking at Mark as they huddle together. Donghyuck hisses at him.

“Did she fuck you stupid? We’re going to lose everything because of you!”

Mark shakes his head, trying to compose himself. It’s hard to do so when he spots you in the crowd, smiling at him as if you want him to win. You’ve thoroughly fucked with his head, his thoughts constantly traveling to the image of you beneath him, sobbing as he shoves his thick cock into you mercilessly.

“This is your fault, Jeno!” Ten growls. “You should’ve never left Mark alone with her!”

“Everyone, shut up!” Sicheng bellows, annoyed by his teammates. “We’re going to lose if we don’t focus. What’s wrong with you, Mark?”

“I-I don’t know.”

Donghyuck scoffs. “I think I do.”

Sicheng glares at the younger male to be quiet. “I don’t care what it is anymore. There’s one minute left and I need you to get it together.”

“I will, I will,” Mark insists, even though he’s not so sure about it himself. They break the huddle and get back into the game, Mark trying to focus as the referee blows the whistle. Jung Jaehyun comes charging at him and Mark tries to dodge.

“Come on, Mark!”

As soon as he hears your voice overpower the audience, he loses his balance and Jaehyun slams him up against the wall. Mark groans when he tumbles to the ground and it isn’t long before he hears the final buzzer echo in the rink. The competing team jumps for joy, laughing with one another as they meet in the middle of the ice. Mark stays on the ground, watching pitifully as his teammates slump in defeat.

His eyes look for yours again in the stands, but you’re already long gone.

[bbysamu]

Love Sometimes On A Thursday Night | KUROO Tetsuro

featuring: husband!Kuroo Tetsuro x f!reader

the one in which Kuroo Tetsuro learns love can come in the form of at home spa nights and 24k gold face masks

MAIN MASTERLIST | DOMESTIC BLISS MLIST

Kuroo Tetsuro texted as soon as the man walked through those double glass doors.

“baby, he’s back.”

The “he” in question was no doubt the same one from the marketing department. The marketing lead with the greasy, slicked back hair and a smile that never quite reaches his eyes. The same one who demands Kuroo stay overtime to finish whatever project the marketing team is working on with the promotion team.

“don’t worry, try to get someone else to stay this time. you already stayed late last week. just forty more minutes and you’re free!”

Kuroo groans as he locks his phone screen. forty minutes turned into an hour and forty-minutes because his colleagues had scrambled to their feet, muttering quick “goodbyes” and was out the door before Kuroo realized he was the only one left in the office.

At exactly 8:45 PM, Kuroo trudges through the door and plops down comfortably on top of you, earning himself an, “excuse me, but hello to you too.”

“I miss you” was his muffled reply.

After three years of dating and two years of marriage, you’ve learned that despite his corny jokes and sometimes cheesy ways, Kuroo likes his words straight to the point. there was no need for the “hi and hellos”. he missed you at work today so that was to be the first thing he tells you.

he sighs against the touch of your fingers mindlessly running through his hair. seven years after high school and his hair still the same, messy bed-head aesthetic.

“tough day, huh? did you end up getting stuck with him?”

he nods, sighing again as he relives the memory of forced smiles and nods of agreements until the marketing lead let him go.

“wanna tell me about it?”

“you know I do. but we need to do that thing first. it’s Thursday.”

“oh shoot, it is a Thursday. come on, babe.”

Kuroo gasps, “don’t tell me. you forgot?!”

You smile at his antics, “I didn’t forget per say, I just don’t remember.”

Your husband rolls his eyes, fighting the smile on his face as he pushes himself off of you and helps you to your feet. his hands finds its way to your waist, the two of you making your way to the bathroom.

Kuroo makes himself comfortable on the marbled top, leaning back against the mirror, as you inched closer, examining his face.

“sir, what exactly are you looking for?”

He grins. Even after two years of marriage, this game of pretend was still entertaining.

“ma’am, I've been feeling extra dry lately, especially in my t-zone area. do you have any suggestions or remedy?”

You ponder and Kuroo could see the thoughts running through that pretty little head of yours. He couldn’t stop his hands from reaching out, fingers toying with the hem of your t-shirt, trying to pull you in closer to him.

“sir, this is not appropriate. I have a husband you know?”

“is your husband as handsome as me?”

“nah, he’s more handsome cause his forehead doesn’t look like a whole desert.”

Kuroo pouts, “no fair, y/n! I share with you my insecurity and you just throw ‘em back in my face. tell me again, why did I marry you?”

“my charms,” you retort, not missing a beat as you scrummage through the piles of face masks, moisturizers, serums, and eye creams, “and because I have these.” you wave the face masks in front of him.

“24k gold face masks huh? we feeling fancy tonight!”

you rolls your eyes as he hops off from the counter and opens the drawer, pulling out the matching headbands, one blue, one pink completed with the inscriptions “hers” and “his”. it was a housewarming gift from one of your bridesmaid. you remember the excitement on her face as she handed you the purple-wrapped box, the proud look in her eyes as she explained, “pink for y/n and blue for Tetsuro.”

he turns to you, handing you the blue one as he slips on the pink one. Kuroo insists on using the pink headband with “hers” on it, because he’s yours. And because you’re his (the ring on your finger is proof) you wear the blue one.

“it’s cold!” he grimaces, but tries his best not to move as you carefully line up the sheet to his face.

“alright, my turn.” you turn to him as he picks up the second sheet from the pack.

“how do I look?” he questions.

“I think you look more handsome with half your face covered up.”

Kuroo laughs then pinches your cheeks, “you think you’re so funny, huh?”

“ouch, not so hard!” he laughs again when you rub your face.

“come on, baby, turn towards me and close your eyes.”

you do and instead of the cold sensation of the sheet, you feel his lips on yours. part of you wanted to pull away because its 9:34 pm and you'd both have to be up by at least 6:30 am tomorrow for work. but you stay when you feel the urgency in his touch as your fingers weave through his messy locks.

he pulls away first and you laugh at how crooked his mask had become. his laughter intertwines with yours once he catches glimpse in the mirror and nimble fingers quickly put it back in place.

“alright, princess, your turn, for real now.” he helps you put on your gold sheet and doesn’t let go of your hand as the two of you collapse back onto the sofa.

“wanna tell me about the mean manager now?” you ask, your hand reassuringly squeezing his.

Kuroo opens his eyes and surveys the room. your wedding picture hung in the center of the wall, millions other pictures of the two of you surrounding it. he smiles when he spots his favorite one, the one taken by Yaku two Decembers ago on on a ski-trip with the rest of your friends. you were asleep on his shoulder, mouth slightly open, and Kuroo was smiling, just a little, as he looked down at you like you’re the only one he’ll ever look at for the rest of his life (and as your husband often likes to remind you, you are). Yaku laughed and teased him for being a simp when he airdropped Kuroo the photo. Kuroo laughed along and thought “so this is what love looks like”.

With Jhene Aiko quietly playing in the background, your legs draped over his, Kuroo no longer wanted to talk about the manager, he’d rather you hear about all the happier details of his day, like how he absolutely destroyed the lunch box you had prepared for him, down to the very last rice and how his boss had hinted at a potential promotion. he also wanted to hear about your day, how was your commute, did you learn anything new from that podcast you always listen to?

“Tetsu?”

Kuroo realizes he had spaced out and he smiles, “nah, that man isn’t worth talking about. baby, how was your day? what’d you eat for lunch?”

“you sure?” and he nods encouragingly, smiling as you begin to launch into a detailed rundown of your day.

“so Jen and I went to the new hot dog place around the corner, you know the one I've always wanted to try. it was beautiful, I've never seen a hot dog place decorated so nicely...”

Kuroo realizes while love is sometimes face masks on a Thursday night, love for him will always be you.

stay fetch! xoxo

join my TAGLIST !

[kkusuka]

Dabi, Compress, Aizawa, and Hawks having an s/o that’s double cheeked up on a Thursday afternoon. Hella ass. The sun is still out. Whatever pants she’s wearing, her ass and thighs are easy to notice. God forbid she wears leggings or else some of these men are gonna go feral

bby

Dabi 

This guy? 

Ass man? 

Have you seen him? 

this man would die for the ass

He’d give his life to see it jiggle 

And so he does everything to see it 

He’ll kneel down behind you just to get a better look, he’ll make you stand there until he’s done too.

He’ll put stuff on high shelves and just watches as your sweatshirt moves up. 

This man buys (steals) so many booty shorts that you have no more room for them 

You're laying on the couch, right? Ass to the sky. 

He barges in and lays his face right where the ass meets thigh

He just relishes in the soft pillory beauty 

Now, he still is a possessive bastard 

He has to see what you're wearing for you to go outside 

And you've learned that if you can get him to look at you long enough that he’ll start thinking, then you can leave in whatever you want 

Be warned!

This does NOT work every time!

Some things that will trigger the failure include: (some of these he will allow only if he is with you.) 

Those skirts with the cross stringed sides

Any kind of spandex 

Fashion nova dresses

Skirts that don't meet your upper-mid thigh

And finally 

Literally anything blue 

(idk why he just likes his color on you) 

Compress

Handles it in the Mr.Compress way 

Aka. he says something about it all the time 

~compliment galore~

“You look wonderful today my love~” 

except ….. He’s kneeling and holding the underside of your ass

It does get a good giggle out of you, and that's what he wants 

If you wear anything even remotely tight, he will walk behind you wherever you go 

Well he likes walking behind you everywhere

Eyes near ass = happy court jester 

He doesn't care what you wear as long as he can see it on you 

Don't forget about the pictures 

AAALLLLLLL the pictures 

He’s like a mom who wants to post you on Facebook 

but in a cute way y’know?

He's really into tapping your ass though

Like he’ll do that under slap thingy when he wants you to move

Or he’ll just tap the booty for funsies 

(he also joked about putting just your butt in a marble, you shut that one down) 

Aizawa

he does care all that much about how you look

but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t notice it 

by ”it” I am referring to the junk in the trunk 

it should be illegal for someone’s ass to look that good in gray sweatpants 

like baggy, loungewear, that shouldn’t look good on anyone 

and so, both of you are just laying around and reading, like normal

and he’ll just call you over to stand in front of him 

and he’ll hug your hip and rub circles into your butt and upper thighs 

but then he’ll start groping and we all see where that goes 

he’s another sleeper 

though normally  if he is sleeping on you, he’ll have his head in your thighs laying on the bottom of your lower stomach 

but he doesn’t want to roll you over all the time so stuffing his face into the underside of your butt

leggings, oh leggings 

they never stay on for more than two hours 

they just fit so well

skirts are a maybe for him, if they’re short enough he plays the “I'm gonna drop things and ask you to bend down and grab them in front of me” game 

or if they’re tight? oh no, too many ripped skirts have gone by for you to even try anymore 

literally, any cocktail dress is a one and done 

he just doesn’t want to wait 

Hawks 

I’m gonna start things off by saying he’s just really horny 

honestly, he noticed your body when you first met 

(that doesn’t mean he doesn’t truly love you for you) 

this guy is the CEO of coming up behind you and pressing his hips into yours 

Now, that’s a thing all cute couples do right?

not when it’s anytime both of you are standing up

or when he’s drunk and rocking your hips to his

it’s is nice when you're in the shower though, hugs are always appreciated from birdman

we all know hours for a hero are all over the place so sometimes he has to leave in the middle of the night

he tries not to wake you up, but he fails of course

not because he’s loud, oh no

it’s because he’s rolling you over onto your stomach, so he can kiss both of your cheeks goodbye 

he does it when he comes back too and he’ll just cuddle into your butt like it’s a pillow 

so, birdman likes seeing you dressed in allllll the nice skirts and dresses 

BUT 

HE likes seeing you in them he does NOT like ANYONE ELSE seeing you in all the tight skirts and dresses

or if you wear red

then it’s a no go

that’s his color and he gets to see you in it 

( i am also a firm believer that he fake bangs you whenever you bed down too) 

[taetaespeaches]

“I didn’t think you’d care if I came back.”

yoongi x reader (or oc) genre: angst; fluff word count: 3.2K

a/n: Finally we have some fluff again! I mean, the angst is still here, but we’re getting to a resolution. This drabble is inspired by “this is me trying” off of Taylor Swift’s album, folklore, and it takes place after, “You know that I would ruin myself over and over again for you.” This also includes a hint of crack for some comic relief, and because where Jin and Poopsie go, crack follows. I hope you all enjoy, and thanks for reading! :)) 

STEPPING into your apartment, returning home from work, your eyes scanned the small space with distaste. You dreaded coming home to your empty sofa and your empty kitchen and your very empty bed. Even more so, you hated the disappointment you felt in yourself for letting another person get so close to you that they started to feel like home.

Dropping your bag at the front door, you kicked your shoes off carelessly before making your way straight to the bathroom to take a shower. Your showers had been doubling in length, perhaps in hopes that the heat of the water would scald the past couple months right off your skin. Or maybe it was just to feel something other than the hurt.

It was just two months of your life. Why was it having such an impact? It had only been three days since Yoongi walked out, so you hoped it was just the newness of it all that had you feeling so hollow.

Yoongi was just stopping by the dorm for a change of clothes and then he was heading back to the studio. He had spent three days straight in his studio, not even returning to the dorms after leaving your place. Whereas his fans would probably think he was working hard on the second Agust D mixtape, he was mostly just sulking.

He did what was best right? You said you were ruining yourself over him. He was ruining you. So, he left. He didn’t try to work it out, he left. For you. That way, you would have a chance at happiness with someone else. Someone more suitable for you. Someone who could give you what you deserve.

Walking toward his bedroom with his overnight bag in tow, the sound of his roommate’s squeaky laughter echoed through the hallway. Yoongi was suddenly very thankful for the isolation his studio provided, as he remembered Jin saying his girlfriend was visiting family for a few days so he wouldn’t get to see her right away upon returning to Korea from Japan. She must be back now.

“I don’t care if the whole game and franchise is named after Mario, Yoshi is hands down the best character in the Mario realm, and that’s just a fact,” her ranting sounded through the closed door, Jin interrupting her with overdramatic sound effects. Yoongi’s hand was on the doorknob and he had half a mind to ignore his need for a change of clothes and escape back to his studio before anyone noticed he was there.

“There wouldn’t even be a Yoshi if it weren’t for Mario because there would be no Mario franchise,” Jin shouted back, Yoongi’s motions still stalled as he stood on the other side of the door in disbelief. Fucking Mario? Really?

With a sigh, Yoongi opened the door, clearing his throat to alert the two idiots of his presence. Jin’s head popped up off the pillows, greeting Yoongi with an, “oh, hey,” his girlfriend sitting up from her spot next to Jin on the bed.

“Oh, Yoongi, thank god you’re here,” she exclaimed, Yoongi flashing her a surprised expression. “Tell Jin that Yoshi is the best Mario character.”

“That’s ridiculous and you know it,” Jin shouted with wide eyes, his girlfriend turning to look at him. “Yoshi can be your favorite character, but you can’t argue he’s the best.”

“Why can’t I?” She complained, Yoongi quickly losing all interest as he escaped to his side of the room, separated from the bickering couple by a large bookcase.

“Because it’s not called Super Yoshi, or Yoshi Kart,” Jin informed her. Yoongi hurried around his belongings, shoving some clothes into his bag so he could get back to this studio without being dragged back into the couple’s pointless disagreement.

“You’re so annoying,” she huffed, Jin laughing at her attitude.

Zipping the bag back up, Yoongi started toward the door, anxious to get out of the dorm, away from everyone.

“Aw, but I got you something in Japan,” Jin told his girlfriend. Her silence piqued Yoongi’s interest, for reasons unknown to Yoongi, enough for him to look back. She was looking at Jin with her eyebrows raised as Jin pulled out a Yoshi figure from his pocket. “It’s Yoshi!” Yoongi watched as the girl held back a smile, trying to keep up her challenging glare. “I may disagree with you, but I support you and your poor judgement,” Jin teased the girl, lowering himself onto his knees on the bed.

“I'm in love with you, so you may be on to something with the poor judgement thing,” the girl teased right back, taking the figure before cooing at it. “It’s so cute, thank you,” she told him, Yoongi quickly exiting the room.

Part of him found the two lovers cute. A much bigger part found them annoying and gross. Shoving their love in everyone’s faces. He felt like a bitter old man as he shuffled out of the dorm angrily. Why was it that Jin could manage a relationship? How was it that Jin could have his shit together, but Yoongi couldn't? And Hoseok for that matter. Hell, even Namjoon was seeing someone. Why couldn't Yoongi do the same? Making his way out of the building, you overtook his mind. You would have called him out on being a bitter old man. “Jesus, Grampa Min, stop being so grumpy,” he could hear you saying with a giggle. You’d probably even press a kiss to his forehead, flashing him a warm smile. All anger and bitterness dissipated from his body, leaving him sad and frustrated with himself, even more so than before.

Another addition to the list of things you were growing to hate about your living space: it was cold. Bundled up in a large sweatshirt, baggy sweatpants, and colorful fluffy socks on your feet, you waited in the kitchen for your water to boil. All you wanted to do was have a cup of tea and plant yourself in front of the TV to waste away while watching the next Netflix series in your queue. Your still wet hair only made you colder, a shiver moving through your body, causing you to let out a groan.

You resisted the urge to check your phone. He surely hadn’t texted, and you didn’t feel like dealing with the pain that struck your heart every time you saw no notifications from him.

As you mindlessly played with the ends of your damped hair, a knock suddenly sounded on your door, and your heart dropped into your stomach. It had to be him. No one ever visited you at 6:30 pm on a Thursday night. You thought about not answering it, but when the knock sounded again, you convinced yourself you could be wrong. It could be someone else.

Then you caught yourself hoping it wasn't someone else.

Hesitantly, you opened the door, and if you weren’t so angry you would have cried at the sight in front of you.

Yoongi stood in your doorway, dark circles just as prominent as three days ago, eyes puffy and slightly red, one of his hands shoved into his pants pocket, the other hanging by his thigh as he held onto a bouquet of tulips.

Your eyes lingered on the flowers for a moment, not because you really cared about the gesture, but because the appearance of the man who had always been so composed before now looking so completely broken on your doorstep was almost too devastating for your heart to bear.

His eyes scanned your features desperately, though neither of you spoke. It was hard to find the words.

It felt like minutes passed by before Yoongi finally opened his mouth to say something, though he struggled to get the words out. “Kid, I-” he started, tears forming in his eyes.

“I don’t want your flowers if they come with disillusions,” you told him bitterly, holding onto your anger, despite the bubbling feeling of wanting to wrap him up in your arms.

Your eyes followed a tear as it slid off his plush cheek, the cheeks you adored so much, landing on the side of his hand. “If you want me to lay out all my mistakes right now, I will,” he told you sincerely, the comment taking you by surprise. “For starters, I shouldn’t have left. I should have fought with you, I should have stayed to finish that fight,” he said in frustration, partly to himself.

Maybe the words should have confused you, but you understood exactly what he was saying. For you both to express your frustrations with each other and with yourselves, the fight needed to happen. With Yoongi leaving, you didn’t get to the point of discussion following the anger. Instead, he walked away, as if you weren’t worth fighting with, or for.

“Why did it take you three days to come back?” You asked, a strange mixture of anger and sadness and hope swirling around your stomach.

“I didn’t think you’d care if I came back,” he admitted sadly, wiping his face with the back of his hand to get rid of the tears, the bouquet messing his fringe as it made contact with his forehead. He avoided eye contact, keeping his stare directed to your fuzzy sock-covered feet.

“Of course, I care,” you told him, taking a step back to allow him space to enter your apartment. His eyes followed the colorful fluffy material as you moved aside. “Now get in here so we can fight.”

You barely noticed the quirk in Yoongi's lip as it curved just slightly into the tiniest of smiles. He entered your apartment tentatively, and his presence already made it feel more like home again. You felt certain in that moment that no matter what room he walked into, it would feel like home.

Turning toward you, still avoiding your eyes but raising his gaze to your waist, he weakly held up the bouquet. "These are tulips," he told you dumbly, finishing the statement off with a sniffle.

You stared at him for a moment but he didn't continue. "I know," you finally said.

Another beat went by as you faced each other, a feeling of awkwardness enveloping the room. “They symbolize-" he started, just as the teapot started screaming in the kitchen.

“Hang on,” you told him, rushing to the kitchen to remove the pot from the stove, turning the burner off. For a moment, you thought about sitting in the kitchen for a moment to gather your thoughts, but with a vulnerable Min Yoongi standing just a few feet away, you found yourself hurrying back to him.  

“Sorry, what were you saying?” You asked, Yoongi looking to the side of the room.

“Tulips symbolize-”

"Yoongi,” you breathed out. “I don't care about the flowers right now, what are you doing here?" You cut him off, getting straight to the point.

"I want to fix this," he told you sincerely, lifting his gaze to meet yours.

You shrugged. "And how?" He stared at you for a moment, so you decided to continue. "I'm sick of feeling like I'm not wanted."

Yoongi quickly negated the comment, shaking his head. "I always want you."

"Then why do I feel unwanted by you?" Your volume raised as you asked the question, Yoongi appearing to hold his breath for a moment. Letting it out in a shaky breath, he looked back to your feet. "You say you want me but your actions say different, Yoongi. And you can't tell me how I feel, I feel unwanted."

"I'm sorry," he apologized quietly, lifting his gaze to meet your eyes. "I'm not trying to tell you how you feel, I'm just coming to terms with the fact that I made you feel that way," his voice broke.

"I don't want to hold this over your head, and I don't want you beating yourself up for it," you told him. "I just want you. But if I can't have you and feel good about myself and us, then I need to you to leave and I need you to stay gone." Speaking the words added cracks to your heart, but it also lifted a weight off your shoulders.

"I deal with a lot of shit," he suddenly said, your eyebrows pulling together in confusion. "Mentally. And that mixed with my work- I'm afraid of putting you through hell just because I'm selfish and want you," he told you with tears in his eyes. That’s what he’s afraid of? Putting his burdens on you? "I get so stuck in my head and I was in Japan and all I could think of was you and,” he sighed, looking into your eyes. “Fuck, Kid, I wanted to call you every moment I was gone. But that's for me, what am I giving you?" He shrugged hopelessly.

"You," you told him, your tears threatening to fall. "You're giving me you."

"And what's that worth?" His question shattered your heart. What's that worth?

"Baby, that's worth everything to me," you told him. "When you’re actually giving yourself to me, I feel more like myself. I feel braver and happier and-" looking back at the bouquet in his hands, you asked, "why tulips?"

He stalled for a moment, surprised by the question. "Right now?" Nodding at him, you bit back a grin. A faint smile appeared on his face, scoffing at himself. "Tulips can mean rebirth and forgiveness and true love, and I'm not saying we're in love,” he quickly backtracked. “I mean not yet, but we could be some day, and," he spoke slow but he was lost in his words, panicking over bringing up love, and the sight of him trying to find his way was enough to make you crack a smile. His speech faded out as he watched your face brighten just the slightest bit, a blush overtaking his plush cheeks. "I don't know what the fuck flowers mean, I don't know what I'm doing."

"That much is obvious," you teased, Yoongi letting out a single breathy chuckle at the comment.

"All I know how to do is care about you, Kid," he shrugged.

Tears forming in your eyes at his confession, you shook your head. "Then care about me."

"I'm trying," he told you, staring into your eyes. For a man who usually avoided eye contact, you were surprised by the sincerity he was trying to convey as he held your gaze. "I really am trying."

"I know," you nodded. And he was.  

"I wanted to protect you from me," he added, his orbs scanning your face. "But fuck, Kid, I can't stay away from you." You watched him thoughtfully as he spoke. "But when I saw the hurt in your face-" he paused to compose his emotions. "When you said you thought I left that morning," he shook his head. "That's when I first realized what I was doing to you."

"But you don't have to do that to me," you reminded him. "You don't have to protect me from you, I've told you I'm prepared to be with you regardless of your lifestyle and your work." Yoongi stared at you as you spoke, and you cocked your head at him. "I'm ok with the time apart and the late-night dates and the days where we can only fit a few texts in.”

“But are you ok with me? And everything that comes with me?” He asked. He was really asking, he needed the assurance.

“Of course, I am,” you told him definitively. “I want all of you. You don’t need to wear this mask around me, you don’t need to shield me from you. And you’re not the only one with demons,” you told him. “I want you and everything that comes with you. I’m just not ok with feeling like I'm always about to lose you."

"Baby," he whispered.

"I can't keep being afraid that every time you walk out the door, you might not come back," you whimpered, a tear falling down your cheek. "I need assurance too, I need to know you're in this with me as much as I am with you." Yoongi nodded quickly.

"If you want me here, I'm here," he assured you, sincerity coating his words.

"I want you here," you told him. Yoongi suddenly tossed the bouquet onto the table before approaching you. His arms wrapped around your body before you could react, your arms slowly folding over him, holding him close to you as he buried his face in your hair. You felt a kiss on the top of your head, your body responding by relaxing against his frame, turning your face to nuzzle it against his neck. "I'm sorry for the shit I said," you mumbled against his cool skin, still slightly cold from the night air.

"Don't apologize," he whispered into your hair.

"I didn't mean the mean shit," you added, Yoongi chuckling at the obvious pout on your lips.

"You were hardly mean, Kid," he told you, pulling away just a bit to look down at you with a soft smile, his eyes glistening in emotion.

“Well, I’ll never mean the mean shit,” you said with a small smile.

"I missed you,” he told you as he wiped the fallen tears off your cheeks.

"I missed you too," you whispered. “We were supposed to fight, you know,” you added teasingly.

“That wasn’t a fight?” He questioned in feigned surprise. “We still can if you want,” he playfully responded, his eyes widened humorously.

“You came in here trying to explain flower symbolization and I just couldn’t get mad at you,” you giggled, Yoongi smiling adorably just before pushing his lips to yours, giving you a sweet kiss. Before you could deepen it, he pulled away again.

"Yoshi or Mario?"

"What?” You questioned in utter confusion. “Min, I'm trying to make out with you," you complained with a look of dissatisfaction, Yoongi smiling fondly at the expression. With a sigh, you said, "Yoshi, obviously, what do you think I am, an idiot?" Yoongi laughed fully at the comment, his shoulders shaking as he flashed you that adorable gummy smile you were so obsessed with. "Why?" you asked through a small laugh, "what about you?"

"Honestly, I could not care less," he smiled, now your turn to laugh.

"I love that about you," you told him through your big grin.

"My roommate, Jin, thinks Mario is better," he told you, you raising your eyebrows in response. "I think you should come by the dorm to put him in his place. Maybe meet all the other guys too?"

You smiled widely as you nodded. "I'd love to," you said softly, Yoongi nodding before leaning in to kiss you again. "I mean, for Yoshi's honor," you whispered right before his lips pressed to yours.

"Of course," he giggled against your mouth. Pulling back just slightly, Yoongi stared at you for a moment, his eyes appreciating your every feature slowly, taking his time, as you did the same with him. Wrapping his arms around the back of your neck, he tugged you closer to him to hold you against his body once again. "Jin's a moron but remind me to thank him one of these days," he whispered against your temple.

"I will," you giggled. "But for what?"

"For having his shit together."

[psychedellic-phase]

Princess (smut)

A/N: I feel like this is definitely out of character but it literally would not leave my brain. also yes they are so toxic !!! I binge wrote this at 1 am so I hope you enjoyyy

tw: arguing, cursing SMUT! Oral (male receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, cheating & toxic relationships.

word count: 4.6 k 

masterlist

It was Thursday. I knew I’d find him where he usually is on Thursdays: that corner table at O’Malley’s, the one below the neon ‘Corona’ sign. 

I went most Thursdays, when I could, and sat at a table across the bar. It was the perfect place to watch him have two whiskeys, neat, and go home alone. 

He hadn’t noticed me yet. It’s not like I looked different, I still looked like me but he looked better and better every time I saw him. 

Was it weird to watch my ex-boyfriend that I swear I’m over from across a bar? Yes. Do I have a loving boyfriend at home waiting for me to come home every Thursday? Yes. Am I lying to this boyfriend? Yes. Am I completely over my ex like I say I am? Clearly not. Am I completely insane? Definitely. 

It’s not my fault though, Spencer Reid just had to be all consuming. Addicting. Intoxicating. A human black hole who I’d happily fall back into any given day, but he couldn’t know that. It would just feel his already overinflated ego. He could never know about how all my thoughts revolve around him. Maybe he isn’t a black hole, maybe he’s the sun, and I’m just a planet spinning around him. 

Every Thursday I tried to get up the nerve to go say Hi. And every Thursday I managed to get up the nerve the second he paid his tab and left. 

But today, that was going to change. I was going to do it, just say Hi. It shouldn’t have been scary, I did spend six months of my life with him. He knows me, much better than I’d like to admit, and I know him. But he always knew how to make me twitch. The man could make me nervous, and men never make me nervous. No one ever makes me nervous. 

I watched him as he sat, his hair longer than it had been when we were together. His suit looked the same, so did the gray cardigan and maroon tie. I vaguely remember having that exact tie around my wrists one night. He used his beautiful fingers to trace the rim of his cup, his brown hair covering his eyes lightly. His eyes, brown but hazel, like a golden green, with beautiful eyelashes I was always jealous of. They’re so long, he looks like he has mascara on.

Wait his eyes. 

Eyes?

Shit. 

I had made direct eye contact with him. 

He saw me. 

I saw him. 

Fuck. 

And now he’s walking. Towards me. Shit. Shit. Shit. 

Here he is, right in front of me. God he’s so hot.

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. I just stared at him. He slid the chair across from me from out under the table without asking permission. He sat in it, whiskey in hand.

“So what exactly have you been doing here every Thursday for the last eight Thursdays, Y/N?”

I blushed lightly, but kept my composure. He knew how to make me nervous but I knew how to make him sweat. 

“O’Malley’s makes the best cosmos in DC.”

He shifted in his seat, fingers drumming on the table, “It’s a mediocre cosmo at best. You’re here for me. So here I am.”

I sat up in my seat, “Mediocre cosmo, and mediocre company.”

“Mediocre?” He chuckled darkly, “If I’m so mediocre then why have you been watching me?”

Of course he figured me out, he’s a goddamn FBI agent. God I was stupid sometimes, but only with him. It’s like every time he spoke, half of my brain flew out of my head. 

“Honestly, there isn’t much else to look at around here,” I gestured around the dingy bar, “And also, it’s been way longer than eight Thursdays. You should brush up on those observation skills, Dr. Profiler.”

His eyes darkened, “You never answered my question, Princess.”

I shuddered at the use of that nickname. I hadn’t heard it from him in a while, I just hoped he couldn’t see the effect it had on me. I evaded the question again, “The better question is why do you come here alone each week like clockwork?”

He shrugged, “Because you’re here every Thursday like clockwork.”

My mouth fell open slightly. He thought about me. I was weirdly proud of myself for that. He continued, “What? You think you were the only one watching? Please.”

I scoffed, “Then why wait so long to come over?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

I bit my lip, a dull flame forming in my belly, “I don’t come over because I have a boyfriend, and it would be inappropriate.”

He smiled, showing his beautiful white teeth, “Well that’s a lie.”

“It’s true!” I was offended. He acted as if another man would never want me, like the colossal pain the ass he always is.

“No, no, I believe the boyfriend. But the threshold of what is appropriate was passed when you lied to him for weeks just so you could get a good look at me.”

He was right. I did lie, about a lot of things and mostly to myself. God, why couldn’t I just love the nice guy? Why was it the infuriating, sexy, genius who I found myself in quicksand with?

“Stephan knows where I am.”

Another lie he’d see right through, but I didn’t care. I’d lie through my teeth if that meant that he would keep talking. God, how I missed his voice, his stupid, arrogant, beautiful voice. 

Spencer looked at me straight in the eyes then, “Does he princess? That’s sweet.”

The condescension in his voice was palpable.

“You’re still so passive aggressive,” I said, leaning back in my chair to create space between us. He leaned forward, eradicating the space I just created. 

“Yet you’re still here.”

I stood up then, feeling like the tension between us could suffocate me, “I’m getting another round. Neat?”

He nodded, “Make it a double, I think I’ll need it.”

I walked over to the bar, finally getting some air. I was already so hot, and it wasn’t from the packed bar. It was from the way his eyes looked through me, the way he said my name, the way he said ‘Princess’. I regained my composure and sauntered back over to him. Game on, Pretty Boy. 

“So how’s what’s his name? Steven?” He said, taking his new drink. 

I rolled my eyes, “It’s Stephan, but you knew that. You know everything.”

He chuckled cockily, sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth, “Well, how is Stephan?” He said the name with a fake posh accent, forcing me to hold back a laugh. 

“He’s wonderful,” I responded, twirling the mini umbrella from my drink between my fingers. Spencer’s dark eyes narrowed, brows furrowed, reading me like a book. The same way he always had. 

“No he isn’t,” he said matter-of-factly. 

“Wh-,” I groaned, “Spencer, I swear he’s great!”

“You haven’t gotten any better at lying.”

“And you haven’t gotten less infuriating.”

“Infuriating? Me?” He was mocking me now, I crossed my arms in defense, hoping maybe he could read that body language, and shove it where the sun doesn't shine. 

God why did he have to be like that? How did he always know exactly which buttons to press? And why did I like it? Why was I on fire from the moment he walked over?

“You were infuriating for the six months we dated, three years ago, and you’re infuriating now.”

He shrugged, “But you still like it. Some things never change, Princess.”

I blushed, knowing he was right, but not wanting to admit it, “I don’t like it. I hate it.”

He moved his chair closer to me at the table, so close I could smell him. He smelled the same way he did those years ago, and I had the same reaction. Thank god I was sitting; he made me so weak in the knees.  

Snap out of it, Y/N. I ordered myself, Think of Stephan, yes. Stephan, beautiful, boring Stephan. 

“Stephan isn’t infuriating,” I said, trying to ignore the way he licked his lips when he looked at me. God, I wanted to feel them against me. 

“Oh really? What is Stephan like?” Spencer said, using air-quotes around his name, disgust dripping from each syllable. 

“He’s nice.”

I avoided making eye contact, knowing full well how Spencer could see every lie I was about to tell. It wasn’t that Stephan was bad, he was just so, painfully, boring. If cardboard was a human being, it would’ve been Stephan. 

“Nice? That’s all?” Spencer said it with an air of amusement. 

“Well, he’s an accountant and he’s thirty-one.”

Spencer leaned close to me now, his breath smelling like whiskey and tickling my cheeks as he spoke, “Those are facts Y/N, I want to know what he’s like. Is he good to you? Does he make you happy?”

I gulped. There were the nerves. I was starting to twitch; his specialty. 

“He’s wonderful. He’s charming. I couldn’t ask for a better man.”

Spencer leaned back, crossing his legs and drinking some more, waiting for me to continue. 

“My parents love him. He’s smart, and handsome too.”

Spencer scoffed, “Your parents loved me.”

I rolled my eyes, “Well, he actually calls when he says he will, unlike you. Also unlike you, he’ll open doors for me because he isn’t scared of germs. He also doesn’t correct me every time I misspeak, instead he tells me I’m beautiful, and smart, and funny.”

We fell silent, both looking angry and defensive. He always could get to me like this. My body was hot and angry and so was his. He looked so good, it actually hurt. Could his lips be any pinker? Could his jawline be any sharper? 

“I’m waiting for the ‘but,’” He said, taking me out of my head for a moment. 

“But?”

“Yeah, what’s his fatal flaw Y/N?”

“Flaw? He has none. He’s literally perfect.”

“Perfect?”

“Yes!” I snapped. 

“No one’s perfect. What’s his flaw?” 

“None!”

Spencer kept badgering me, “What is it? Tell me, Princess. Tell me. Tell me what it is, you know you want to.”

It felt like a dam that was inside me had been broken, water and the truth pouring out at once, “He isn’t you!”

Spencer leaned back and smiled, “There it is.”

“Stephan is kind and gentle. We don’t scream, or fight. I don’t stay up crying and yelling and cursing! But he isn’t you, and I wish he was.” I gasped for air, not realizing I hadn’t been breathing, “There! Are you happy now?!”

Spencer was grinning, just like usual, “Very.”

I rolled my eyes, “Your turn.”

He raised his eyebrows and pointed to himself, “My turn?”

“Yeah, why have you been alone the last three years Reid? We both know you can have anyone in this place. Hell, Red over there has been eyeing you up for the last hour,” I gestured to the girl a few tables away who had been stealing glances at Spencer. An action that totally didn’t make my blood boil, at all, not even a little. 

He avoided my gaze now, “You know why.”

Now I had the power back. I got close to Spencer, so only he could hear me. All my reservations were gone, I was in the black hole. The fire in my body that I hadn’t felt for so long was finally back, “I want to hear you say it.”

He got even closer, lips barely a millimeter apart, “Just like he isn’t me, no woman alive will ever be you.”

I smiled, proud of the confession. I pulled back. As much as I wanted him right now, right here on this sticky bar table, I am no cheater, and though I forgive, I never forget. 

“Another difference between you and Stephan is that he won’t break my heart.”

Spencer smirked, “He can’t break your heart, because you feel nothing for him. There’s no love to lose.”

I sighed and ceded, “You’re right.”

“Always am.”

A comfortable silence followed, and my head was spinning. I don’t know if it was from the cosmos or from Spencer. He tended to do that to me. We both had softened. I was sad, because I knew it would never work. As much as I wanted it to, it wouldn’t. It didn’t three years ago. I just needed to live with it. You need more than passion to make it work. Hell, if all you needed was passion, Spencer and I would be growing old together right now. 

“This isn’t healthy, you know?”

Spencer nodded, all aggression faded away, “I know.”

“This will never work.”

“I know.”

“No I mean like never.”

Spencer gave me a half smile, “You don’t have to convince me. I know.”

I sighed, reaching out to hold his hand in the most platonic way possible. His skin was warm. I missed the way it felt under mine. 

“I just wish it would.”

He smiled sadly now, big brown eyes meeting mine and looking through me into my soul, “So do I, Princess.”

I laughed, “And stop calling me princess!”

“Or what, Princess?” He said it flirtatiously, his hand squeezing mine.

“Or I won’t be able to stop.”

“Stop what, Princess?”

“Stop myself from kissing you right now.”

He leaned in, lips barely an inch apart again, “Then don’t.”

And with that our lips touched softly, before we parted. The kiss was familiar but foreign. I’d felt it a million times before, but this one was different because the feelings were different. We stared at each other, before I stood, holding his hand. 

“Follow me,” I said, the fire in my belly mixing with the delightful throb in my core. All reservations were gone. I needed him. I needed him right now, or I felt like I might explode. 

He held my hand as we maneuvered between the crowd and ended up in front of the bathroom.

“Bathroom? Y/N there’s so many germs that’s-”

I had to cut him off by grabbing his shirt and pulling him into me. Our lips found each other so easily, like second nature. His were soft but chapped, I missed the way they felt on the rest of my body. I pulled him into the stall, and he pressed me up against a wall. His rough hands roamed my figure, landing on my hips and squeezing there. I pressed my hips into him, relishing the feeling. My hands found his hair, tugging at the roots to beckon his mouth open. He obliged, tongue moving across my lower lip and tangling with mine. Every movement sent twinges of pleasure to my core. 

When we broke apart, he looked at me, his light brown eyes seeming impossibly dark with lust, the same darkness that they held just minutes before. 

“Please, bedroom, not here,” He begged, and I silently agreed, peeling myself off of him.

I dropped a fifty on the table before stumbling out into the street for a cab. His hands never left my body, and his lips found mine every chance they got. 

In the back of the cab he was on top of me, squeezing the flesh of my butt as I left butterfly kisses and sucked on his neck. 

We showed up to my apartment, and ran inside. He pressed me up against the elevator door.  “Princess, I need you,” he whined, making me moan into his lips.

“Soon, so so soon, fuck.”

I fumbled with my keys, but soon we were inside.

“Bedroom,” he ordered before crashing his lips against mine again, this time even more feverishly, if that was physically possible. I stumbled backwards in the general vicinity of my room, not wanting to break apart from him for even a moment. He pressed his large hand into my back, steadying me for a moment and took his lips off mine. 

I whimpered, immediately missing the warmth of him on me. 

“Lead the way, princess.”

I smiled wide at the use of that pet name. It always sent an extra jolt of pleasure to my center when Spencer whispered it. 

Grabbing his hand I found the bedroom door. Before we even crossed the threshold his hands were on my body again, this time under my dress looking for panties to peel off.  

“No panties? Were you waiting for this Princess?”

I nodded and groaned as I kissed him, moving my lips down and across his sharp jaw, flicking my tongue out every once in a while and sucking lightly on spots. Just enough for him to moan, but not enough for a mark. I felt my knees hit the mattress of my bed and I fell back onto it, Spencer towering over me. 

I pulled my dress off, throwing it and my bra far away. I needed him to touch me. Now. 

His hands were cold on my chest, making my hardened nipples even harder. He pinched the buds lightly, making me arch my back into his body. 

He snickered, “Patience is a virtue, Princess.”

I groaned and pulled at his shirt, telling him I wanted it gone. 

“Too many clothes,” I mumbled against his chest as I kissed whatever skin I could reach. He did as I wished, and I sat up on my elbows to watch. His muscles contracting as he pulled it off was enough to force me to rub my thighs together, desperate for any feeling. He undid his belt too, letting his pants fall to the floor and stepping out of them. His boxer briefs left little to the imagination, not that I was complaining. The light gray material was darkened in one spot from where his precum was dripping. 

“Come back, Sir,” I begged.

His hands were on my shoulders and pushed me back so he could be on top of me again. The feeling of his chest against mine was maddening. I could also feel his member on my thigh, so close to my dripping heat, but still so far away. He distracted me with another kiss, his teeth coming out to bite my bottom lip. I moaned at the slight pain, running my hands all over his bare back. He worked his way from my lips to my jaw, leaving butterfly kisses in his wake. It drove me wild. I was bucking up into him, nails digging into his skin, sure to leave pretty red marks in their wake. He then made his way to my ear, sucking on the lobe ever so slightly. 

“You know, the ears are an under-appreciated erogenous zone,” he said between nibbling and sucking on my ear and the skin around it. 

“S-Spence,” I let out a breathy moan. Everything he did sent me reeling, clawing into his back begging for more. He really did drive me insane. His hand was back on my breast now, one arm was holding him up while the other pinched and played with my nipples. 

As he kissed and sucked the soft skin of my neck I did the same to whatever skin I could reach. I sucked on his shoulder, right where it meets the collarbone, appreciating how his skin was a little salty. 

I took one hand from his back and slid it between us, reaching down and toying with the waistband of his boxers. 

“Princess,” he moaned right in my ear as I reached in and pumped his hard cock twice, flicking my thumb over the tip to smear around his precum. 

He sat up, kneeling on either side of my thighs and I took that as my chance to pull the boxers down just enough for the pink head to bob out. I looked up at him through my eyelashes, his skin was covered in a sheen of sweat and his hair was covering his eyes, sticking to his forehead in some parts. He gave you a slight nod, and I sat up, immediately taking my tongue from base to tip. 

He took in a sharp breath as I took the tip of my tongue into the slit at the head of his cock, collecting what had formed there. It was salty, but I didn’t mind. The taste was familiar. I selfishly went down to lightly suck on his balls, squeezing the one not getting any attention with my free hand. He sighed, hands tangling through my hair, tugging at the root. 

I pushed on his stomach, “Lay down, I want to suck you right.”

I didn’t need to ask him twice. In a matter of moments I was straddling him, taking the head and sucking on it gently. 

“Fuuuck,” he whined, “You give the best head princess.”

I smiled around his cock as I took it inch by inch into my mouth. My hands took whatever I couldn’t fit and I started at an agonizingly slow pace. Speeding up as his grip on my hair got tighter. 

He moaned in approval, a slew of curse words and praises I could barely hear. I was just focused on swirling my tongue around his cock as he buried it in my throat. He bucked his hips in an attempt to face fuck me, and I allowed it. The head brushed against the farthest point in my throat, causing me to gag, saliva dripping down the sides of my face. 

“You look so pretty when you gag on me Princess.”

I hummed around him in pleasure, toying with his balls again, begging him to cum in my mouth.  Hearing him moan just made me more of a mess. 

He tugged on my hair slightly, “No way, I’m cumming on those pretty tits.”

I smiled up at him and wiped off my mouth. Spencer caught me in another kiss, this one much more loving and tender than the previous ones. He cupped my face and stroked my cheek. 

His free hand came between my bodies in the same move I had used on him, this time his lithe fingers rubbing my clit lightly, but only for a moment. 

The kiss deepened into a full on teenage make-out, our naked bodies grinding against each other. I had never been so desperate in my life, wetness dripping down my thighs. His hands were on my ass, pinching and squeezing. 

“Touch me,” I begged between kisses. 

“Lay down Princess.”

We swapped positions again and I moved up the bed to lean on some pillows. 

He kissed me, hand moving deftly to my aching core. He took the tip of his middle finger and swiped between my lips. 

I shuddered at the touch, but it was taken away so quickly. 

He leaned to my ear, his hot breath tickling my skin as he placed that same finger in my mouth. I sucked on it greedily, “So wet for me already Princess.”

He nipped at my ear lobe again, causing me to buck my hips up at him. He put his face just over mine, looking deeply into my eyes as he took one finger and put it all the way in. 

I groaned happily at the contact, closing my eyes to savor it. 

“Eyes open. Watch me.”

I opened my eyes, just as he added a second finger, curling them to find my g spot. I opened my mouth to moan but no sound came out. The pleasure of him in me was rippling throughout my touch-starved  body. 

“More Spencer, please ah- fuck- more!” I yelped. His free hand came up to my breast, kneading it and my nipple again. I moaned louder, more guttural this time. His fingers never stopped even as I clawed at his skin. My nails dragged along his back and my eyes never left his. 

If my eyes looked anything like his, then they were clouded with lust and immense pleasure. 

“Spence—“ I gasped as he added his thumb to circle my clit. 

It felt intoxicating, like I was high on all the drugs at once. The vision of his perfect face went black at the edges, that feeling I missed so much forming in my stomach. He’s the only one who could give it to me.

“Use your words Princess,” he cooed, flicking his tongue between his lips. 

“D-Don’t stop I’m close.”

He took this as a signal to go faster, his hands moving in ways I  didn’t think possible. His thumb rubbed rough figure eights over my clit that was slick from my own wetness. When my breathing quickened and I tightened around him he knew I was close, leaning in to kiss me gently as I rode out my orgasm. 

I moaned loudly into his mouth as the rubber band snapped, tingling and pulsing around his fingers.  He coaxed me through it, milking me for everything I had. When he removed his hand and licked me off of his fingers, I whined. I needed something to fill me up; I  needed him to fill me up. I felt so empty without him there. 

“Want me to fuck you, princess?” He asked, his hands coming up to brush the hair out of my face. 

“More than anything,” I managed out, still feeling delirious from the first orgasm. 

“Your wish is my command,” and with that he placed his tip inside of me, moving slowly to allow me to adjust to him. 

“Ah fuck,” we both groaned simultaneously. 

“You’re so tight,” he muttered, finally filling me to the hilt and waiting for my signal to tell him to start. 

“Fuck me, Spencer Reid, fuck me like you mean it,” I burst, and he did. 

At first he started slowly, only moving a few inches in and out. I jerked my hips up, wanting to feel more. He thrusted in and out of me wildly, his hair bouncing with every motion and sweat dripping down his face. 

I relished every movement, using my hands to tangle through his hair and my lips to suck on his neck as he leaned over me. He withdrew almost completely, then pounded back into me, the pain causing me to hiss. 

The room was filled with primal, animal-like moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin. I reached up and put two fingers in his mouth, which he licked with gusto knowing exactly what I was going to do with them. I mimicked his rough figure eights on my clit, wanting to cum with him. 

“I’m close princess,” he panted, “Can I cum on those pretty tits?”

I just nodded, unable to find words as we climbed the mountain to our orgasms together. After a few more strokes he pulled out and brought himself to his orgasm, cumming all over my chest with a sigh. He flopped down next to me, overexerted. I continued circling and my own orgasm came seconds later and much less intense than the one he had given me prior. 

Spencer stood up and grabbed a few tissues, wiping the fluid off my chest. When I was cleaned up I snuggled up against him, face to face. 

“Are we going to talk about this?” He panted, still regaining his breath. He gingerly moved some hair from my face.

I sighed, “You know I’m never going to stop loving you?”

He smiled, “You know I’m never going to stop loving you too, Princess?”

Saying those words again took the weight of the last three years off my shoulders, but deep down I still had doubts.

“We won’t work.”

My voice cracked and tears were threatening my eyes.

He kissed my cheek, and pulled me against him, “We don’t know unless we try and I promise to be less infuriating this time, Princess.”

I turned so our lips met, “So let’s try.”

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.02

10/19/2020

No Lies in a Marriage

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 5,150

Warnings: angst, anxiety, panic attack, language

A/N: As I said in the post earlier today, you’ll probably see updates for this story often right now because it’s at the beginning and I know where I’m going pretty clearly and how to get there and it’s kinda just writing itself for right now. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this chapter! I love writing this reader with Thor...but I think it’s just because I love writing Thor. haha If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

You sit up most of the night after talking to David, staring out your bedroom window at the small plot of land you call your own.

Your belonging. The only true one you’ve ever had.

It’s a small inheritance, sure but it’s yours. Yours alone. A sanctuary from the feeling of emptiness that you’d once felt wishing for something that felt like home. It’s more than even some will ever have.

You’re lucky.

And now you have to leave it behind?

There’s no denying your own part in this mess. You’d been given a choice and you’d made it, believe this outcome would never come. Yet here you are, betrothed and fated to be Queen of Asgard.

David comes to help you pack because he knows that you’ll be wallowing.

In shock you pack just as asked, essentials only which means for you, only your clothing, your laptop, and a very small collection of books are chosen.

You have no pictures to take with you. No family heirlooms or sentimental possessions. You fit it all into one large suitcase.

Funny. As you pack, you can’t help but imagine the lives your nomadic ancestors had lived. Much like you in these moments as you pack what little you have of your life away; they must have left everything behind over and over in their search for their own belonging.

It only takes you two hours to pack once David arrives and together you lug the suitcase down your little hallway to the front door.

There, a beautiful Asgardian stands waiting, her eyes on your own foggy expression with slight concern as David joins her and they lapse into quiet conversation as you continue to space out, thinking about the life you’re leaving behind.

Really, if you’re honest, it isn’t much of a life.

Yes, you have your routine. This is your house. Your things. But aside from that, there’s nothing here. Nothing but independence and solitude.

That’s enough, some would say. Others would wonder what you do with all your time.

Why hadn’t you found someone to share this life with? Someone who could appreciate the coziness of this place with you.

“Are you ready?” The Asgardian asks, Brunnhilde, her voice smooth but stern, yet not unkind.

You turn to look at her, hair gathered up on her head in a large bun. She’s dressed for the Norwegian weather she’s come from despite it being significantly hotter here.

She’s not bothered by it. Or if she is, she hides it well.

“Would it matter if I said no?”

“No.” She smiles at you, cheek bones so rounded and pretty you almost want to stroke them because you’ve rarely seen anyone so beautiful.

All of the Asgardians are beyond compare when it comes to looks. Even those that are plain radiate a golden aura. Godlike. Thor’s is the strongest and he’s most certainly the most beautiful to look at.

You’d been too afraid to admit it to yourself before because you’d been so decided against marrying him, but Thor is by far the loveliest man you’ve ever seen. Ideal. He’s exquisite.

And you get to marry him. Which doesn’t exactly feel like a bad thing.

Being chosen to marry Thor would be amazing, given the fantasies you’ve allowed yourself to indulge in since the day you met with him, if not for the fact that you know he’s in love with someone else. Someone who won’t marry him. Someone stupid, obviously.

And those fantasies you’d indulged in would never happen with someone else in his heart. So without that, all you have left is duty. Duty to Earth and its people, ensuring their safety and though you honestly don’t think Earth needs it, the assurance from the Asgardians that they will respect humans as the dominant lifeform on the planet.

Yes, the whole Queen of Asgard thing is a little daunting and will probably take over your life, so you can’t blame this mystery woman for not wanting to give up her own pursuits to take care of an entire people. To give up one identity for another? Yours is close enough to blank—your life nearly empty—that for you, this might not be such a great loss and yet, this leaves you wondering what this will do for you career.

Small as it is, you’ve had two books published. Limited releases with not much traction. Still, the accomplishment is your own. One you’re proud of.

Will you have to stop writing?

“There will be a dinner, to introduce you to Thor’s inner circle. Myself, Loki, a few others that serve directly under him.” Brunnhilde is saying, pulling you back to reality.

You look around, having zoned out so thoroughly that you hadn’t even realized you’d boarded a plane and taken off.

“The only one you’ll have to watch out for is Sif. She’s usually pretty nice, but she’s a little miffed about the whole marriage situation. From what I’ve heard, she’s had a thing for Thor since they were children. She’s a fierce warrior. Might want to avoid her altogether if possible. Asgardian women can be a little territorial.”

Lovely, another rival.

“So can human women.” You grumble, already hating the looks of what you suppose will be an onslaught of distractions for your future husband in the forms of beautiful women.

Brunnhilde quirks a brow, raising it high as she considers your words but doesn’t comment further.

“He’s never seen her as more than a comrade in arms. Or so he says.” She sounds unconvinced, but you recognize her attempt to calm you.

You stare, saying nothing more as your world is overturned.

“After dinner, you’ll spend some time with Thor. He wants to talk to you a bit. The wedding will be on Thursday. Thor’s idea. Full of himself, the idiot.” She’s smiling as she insults him, flipping the page of a magazine she’d grabbed from the pocket of the seat in front of her and you realize they must be close friends.

“Did he really pick me?” You wonder, knowing that her personality will only let her answer one way.

Brutally honest.

“Against all our recommendations.” She tells you. “Most of us were pulling for the Hungarian one. She had the schooling and the training. A little too eager for Thor, or so he said. And Loki. Loki was also in favor of you.”

“Loki?!” You gasp, remembering with great detail your chance meeting with the Asgardian prince.

“Oh yeah.”

Why would Loki want Thor to choose you? You weren’t exactly nice to him. Then again, you weren’t really mean either. Just…blunt.

More importantly, after the awkward conversation with Thor and his admission to marrying despite his feelings for someone else, his choice is the most confusing.

“Why did he pick me?” You plead. “Thor.”

“You’ll have to ask him tonight after dinner. I couldn’t tell you other than that he said he wanted someone real. Someone who knew what it’s like to be a normal person. Whatever that means.” Brunnhilde shrugs. “Normal is all relative. Odin, I need a drink.”

The plane ride is over too quickly and the ride to New Asgard even shorter. The village is large but not much larger than the town you’d grown up in. Plenty of houses and public spaces but nothing like a cityscape.

You’re surprised by the more modest choices they’ve made for their homes. Simple houses with wood siding and strong rooftops.

That is, most of the village is modest. Almost at the center of the largest grouping of buildings is a large multi-storied palace.

Just as it did the first time you saw it when you’d been brought for the meeting, you gasp when you see it, admiring the beauty of the structure bathed in afternoon sunlight.

It reminds you of an old Nordic home you’d seen online only on steroids. Four, maybe five stories? All roofs are tall and sharp, parts covered with moss.

Brunnhilde shows you into the main foyer, large and tall room that allows space large enough for people to stand and chat. Here she leaves you and David with a young Asgardian woman. She looks as if she can’t be more than seventeen but from what you know about Asgardian aging, she’s probably hundreds of years old.

She escorts you both to your new room, and you and David gasp at the sight.

Even though it’s smaller than the sitting room you’d been in when you met with Thor before, there’s a large bed immediately to the right, covered in luxurious plum and silver silk sheets. A large dark brown bear skin rug covers the center of the floor. To the left is an extravagant dark oak armoire, beside it a matching vanity with a low cushioned and backless seat.

On the far wall, between two sets of heavy wooden double doors that lead out to a balcony sits a desk and another seat with a black cushion, the same style as the vanity’s chair.

There’s a low hanging chandelier made of intricately twisted wood, reinforced with dark steel. The design of it makes you think there should be candles, but instead you find it furnished with small flame-shaped lightbulbs.

Along each of the walls are beautiful artworks, one of a singular mountain you’ve never seen on Earth. Another a golden palace with a sky of literal space above and behind it. There’s a smaller painting almost right above the bed and the likeness of it is so precise, you gasp again.

David follows your gaze with his mouth hanging open a little but then he chuckles. It’s a throaty sound as he turns away from you and moves further into the room with your bag while you deposit your purse on the bed, eyes glued to the painting.

“These Asgardians seem to be experts at everything.” David says, conversationally. “Their architecture, their music, their wits in battle. It seems even their art is exceptional.”

You’re still too busy staring to reply.

When David speaks again, he’s right beside you, voice dropped in volume.

“It must really look like him, to have you rendered speechless.” He observes.

“Yes.” You agree. “Just like him. Only now he has the eyepatch. He looks the same with two eyes. Less rugged but the same.”

“And he will remain the same, long after you’ve died, I think.” David admits.

“Yeah…” You swallow, looking down at the bottom of the frame.

The thought had only begun to occur to you when you’d been making your way through the city after Brunnhilde had confessed to being over a thousand years older than Thor and Loki.

“For Thor, this marriage will pass in the blink of an eye.” You sigh, feeling a little saddened by truth of that.

You turn around and sit down on the bed, resting your hands on your knees limply as you stare at the floor.

David squats before you, forearms on his knees.

“You’re serving a great purpose.” He tells you. “Ensuring the safety of the human race. You’re the white flag the Asgardians are waving. History will remember you, Y/N. It will not be in vain.”

Your eyes begin to water, and you nod, knowing he’s right.

“I know I just…” Your head gives an involuntary turn towards Thor’s portrait, but you manage to keep yourself from looking. “He’s in love with someone already. And, yeah, I’d never thought about being with someone before. But now that I’m faced with it, now that I know I’ll be his wife—I don’t know that I don’t want him to like me.”

“He may come around.” David consoles. “You’re a pretty girl and nice, even though you bite.”

His teasing draw a small curve of your lips. The levity however is quickly lost at the prospect of your life stretched out before you, never knowing love as your husband covets another woman.

This isn’t what you’d expected. To be fair you hadn’t expected anything, but now the idea of being married to Thor knowing that he’d much prefer if you were someone else hurts you in a way you didn’t know had been possible.

This ache in your chest feels strange and vivid and unbearable.

Your tears flow. David sighs and reaches up to wipe your cheeks, pulling you in for a hug.

Taking his offered comfort, you hide your face against his shoulder, allowing yourself these few moments to really feel the anxiety and sadness this whole thing has brought.

“I’m sorry.” David tells you, his voice steady but sad. “I wish I could give you a better life. I know that this is not what you parents would have wanted.”

You pull back, shaking your head as you gather yourself. “No, David. You’ve been the most supportive person in my life. This is how it’s supposed to be. Otherwise, why would I have the ancestors I have, right?”

David sighs, reaching up to wipe at your cheek.

“Besides, it’s not like I’ll be truly suffering. Not like other people do. I’ll have a good roof over my head, food, money won’t be a worry. How many other people my age can say that?”

David’s gaze becomes skeptical and he purses his thin lips a little. “Is that really how you feel?”

“Fuck no. This whole thing is complete shit.” You argue, then laugh as David chuckles too.

“There’s that fighting spirit. Keep that fire, Princess, and you’ll find a way through this.” He says, and the way the word Princess rolls of his lips makes you feel the way you’d always thought you’d feel had your dad lived to be a part of your life.

“You say that like it’s easy.” You sigh.

Before he can answer, there’s a knock on the door and it opens.

Both you and David shoot up to your feet as Loki walks in.

He’s smiling politely until he sees your face.

“I’m sorry. Am I intruding?” Loki wonders, as you quickly wipe away the tears left on your cheeks.

“No.” You shake your head quickly, voice thicker than when you arrived because of your break down. “No. Of course not. Come in.”

He doesn’t look convinced and his brow is furrowed as he looks you both over then stands with his hands behind his back. He looks neat and exotic wearing a pair of dark pants, a black top with embellishments in stunning emerald, a thin golden chain connecting each side of his high collar to the other.

“I’ve come to make sure that you find the clothing we’ve left for you.” Loki gestures at the armoire.

“I’m-I can’t wear what I brought?” You ask, pressing your hand to your chest, unintentionally sniffing.

“Tonight, you will meet with my brother’s court. It is a formal event that you must attend wearing slightly more traditional Asgardian garb.” Loki replaces his hands behind his back. “Brunnhilde has chosen something she thought would be your color. You have an hour then we’ll send your maid in to fetch you.”

You nod.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Loki asks again.

“You’re surprisingly worried.” You tell him, David moving to open the armoire and get a look at what you’re going to have to wear.

Loki’s face quickly shifts into a smile, his eyes averted as he nods.

“I hear you were the only person other than Thor who chose me.” You sit back down slowly, your hands softly skating over the cool silky sheets. “Why?”

“You were a breath of fresh air.” He admits. “Compared to the other candidates, you seemed the only one with her feet on the ground.”

Looking away from him you pinch the plum sheets.

“Is that why Thor chose me too?” You ask, knowing it isn’t the reason he chose you.

“Whatever the reason,” Loki begins, and his voice is stern enough to draw your gaze. “I’m certain my brother has nothing but honorable intentions. He’s always been the good one.”

“I think that’s true.” You nod, “He has always been the good one, if the stories are to be believed.”

“I make no excuses for who I was.” Loki assures you.

“But I think you and I both know that Thor’s intentions when it comes to me are anything but honorable.” You smile sadly. “I really hate lying. Let’s not lie to each other. We’re family, right? Or will be.”

Loki’s look remains somber, his eyes far away for a moment.

“You’re the right woman for the job. That is the truth.” Loki admits.

“I guess we’ll see.”

Loki nods. “One hour, your highness.”

His words give you a shock, and your left gaping at him as he leaves and shuts the door behind him.

“Well, that sounded strange.” David admits, “But not as strange as this dress. Well, perhaps strange is not the right word.”

You’re still reeling from the your highness as you get and walk to David that it takes your eyes a moment to process the sight before you.

“I am not wearing that.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“I can’t breathe in this thing!” You whine, hooking your fingers into the ultra-high neckline of your dress.

It’s more like a cage, this piece that goes around your throat and shoulders. It connects to a slightly see-through bodice with soft split threads lining the length of the dress, underneath the top, silver layer is a soft pink one that stands pretty against your skin. It gives the dress depth and offers a pleasant backdrop for the waterfall skirt as it fans out around your feet.

The lattice neckpiece connects to the dress’s neckline with four stiff wire connectors wrapped in the same silver fabric as the rest of the dress.

Your hair, your maid expertly gathered atop your head, shaping it to look as much like you as it can but also keeping it contained with several silver Celtic knot-looking clips. She’d added very little color to your face, telling you that Thor had requested you look as much like yourself as possible so that his court could see the real you.

Even so, you’re overwhelmed by what you see in the mirror as you pass a particularly large one as you and David make your way to the dining hall.

“Don’t fret.” David tells you, reaching over to stop your wringing hands. “Just be yourself. That’s why he chose you.”

“So, what you’re saying is to not be myself.” You nod. “Got it.”

David pulls you to a stop, turning you to face him. Your maid, Estrid, keeps walking a bit then stops leaving you both some space.

“I want you to remember something, Y/N.” David says, low and quiet so that only you can hear him. Well, he doesn’t know that Asgardians have better than human hearing, but whatever. “These people, they need you. They need you. More than you will ever need them.

“Without you, they might have to leave Earth because Thor will never turn against the human race. I don’t know why. We’re not that great.” David shrugs, and your mouth pops open as you breathe a pained gasp.

In this moment, with David’s helpful words, you’re provided with astounding clarity.

“She’s human.” You realize, eyes watering.

It happens so quickly, your breath catches, brain in a frenzy, hands shaking, sweating, your tears flow freely.

You’ve never cried so much in your life and you understand now that this will be your new state of being because what else can you do when you’ve knowingly given your life to a man who loves another human woman which only means that she will also only live for a short time and that means that Thor doesn’t have a lot of time with her so, of course he’ll want to be with her until the day she dies, because she’s the one he really wants to be with, and you’re just the tool to use so that he can stay here with her.

What kind of life have you fated yourself to?

“Your Highness?” Estrid asks, concern painting her voice as you shake your head, too panicked to speak.

David moves you towards the wall, pressing you against it to lean as Estrid moves closer to peek at you.

“Might I be of assistance?” She offers and David turns a smile on her.

“A glass of water, perhaps?”

Estrid hurries away giving you and David the hallway.

“Y/N?” He says, voice hard. “Breathe.”

You look at him, focus on the streak of white in his hair as it falls forward to hang across his brow.

It helps and you shut your mouth and breathe in deep through your nose.

He reaches into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulls from it a white handkerchief. With gentle fingers, he coaxes your face up so that he can carefully wipe the tear stains from your cheeks. He takes a bit of the blush they’d put on you, but you don’t care, and he doesn’t either.

“What is it that troubles you? Tell me.” He urges you.

“Um…” You begin, chin quivering and making your voice shake a little. “…I-I-I don’t know how I’m going to be married to him when I kn-know that he really wants to be with s-someone else. I don’t know how…how…how…”

David sighs, shaking his head as he caresses yours. “Then you look elsewhere too. If he sees fit to be with someone else while you’re married, then you deserve to experience love too. Take a lover. Be discreet. No one will know and you will both get what you want.”

“Isn’t that wrong?” You half cry. “I mean, aren’t wives and husbands s-supposed to be faithful?”

David smiles, pulling your head down to kiss your forehead. “Then give him a chance to change his mind. If he doesn’t love you by the end of the year, then he’s a bigger fool than I already think he is. A downright dumbass.”

“I don’t like the idea of someone being with me when they don’t want to be.” You admit.

And David doesn’t need you to explain that this stems from living in the school, waiting for adoption only to never be chosen.

You’ve finally been picked, and this is what it’s for?

“Do you want me to come to dinner? I can insist on it.” He promises. “I’ll even make a scene.”

You shut your eyes and sob once, David pulls you against his chest and once more you hide your face against his shoulder.

Both of you hear her steps before you see her and yet, when you turn to accept your water, you’re frozen as you find yourself face to face with Thor.

He’s dressed beautifully, in black leather trousers, stitched with thick visible charcoal colored strips of more leather. His torso is covered in what you’d consider light armor. More leather pieces in deep gold tones except for the arms which are covered in metallic scales that shine under the hallway lights. His shoulders are draped in a floor length cape, black, thinner than the one you’ve seen him wear before.

A more casual cape, you suppose.

Both you and David are absolutely still, confused by Thor’s sudden appearance.

“I uh…” Thor looks uncomfortable, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he gestures behind him with his right hand, in his left a glass of water. “Estrid looked upset. She said you weren’t feeling well?”

There’s genuine concern in his voice and it surprises you enough to wipe away most of your worries for now.

“I’m fine.” You assure him.

David clears his throat. “I should go. I have my own dinner to eat.”

“No, please. Join us.” Thor rushes to invite him, gesturing back towards the dining hall again.

“No, no. Really.” David uses his hand to refuse, then reaches down to give your hand a squeeze. “Can I trust you to escort Y/N to dinner?”

Your heart swells for David, once again, the father you never had.

“Of course.” Thor nods, smiling at David before moving to you, seeing this as permission to move closer maybe? “I take full responsibility.”

There’s a twinge of bitterness in your chest, a rolling in your stomach as you see David narrow his eyes at Thor.

“I’m going to hold you to that, God of Thunder.” He threatens, and Thor seems to realize it’s a threat because he looks startled. However, he smiles and plays it off quickly, nodding. “Have a good dinner, princess.”

David gives your hand one more squeeze before leaving you and Thor to whatever awkward conversation you’re about to have.

Thor waits until you’re both alone in the hallway before he holds out the glass of water he’d brought for you.

“Have you been crying?” He wonders, voice soft and gentle. Deep too, it settles in your chest and makes you feel stupid for liking it.

“Just a little.” You admit.

“Why?”

“I’m nervous.” And that isn’t a lie. “And apprehensive.”

Also, not a lie.

“And I don’t trust you.” You confess, feeling no qualms about the shock that flits across his rugged face.

“What did I do?” He cries.

“You told me you’re in love with someone else who won’t marry you.” You sigh, taking a long drink of your water. “I’m not exactly excited to be marrying someone who already wants to be with someone else.”

Understanding shifts his expression and he nods, reaching up to scratch at the side of his chin.

“I’ll be honest,” He begins, offering you his arm as you lower your glass. “It was never something I expected either. After watching my parents love each other for many years, their marriage was something I hoped I could experience.”

“Then why didn’t you fight harder for this woman you love? Convince your court! She’s human, right? I’m sure the Earth Ambassadors would be happy to have you marry any human.” You reason, still hoping to get out of this even if the only thing you hate about this now is the fact that he’s in love with someone else.

That fantasy marriage you’d painted for yourself has taken over your inexperienced brain and planted a seed within your heart and you feel like a fool for it.

“They were fine with it. Jane is not ready for marriage and I cannot force her to marry me if she doesn’t want to.” Thor laments, truly sounding sad about her refusal.

“Doesn’t she care that you’re marrying someone else?” You wonder, watching his expression as he begins to lead you towards the dining hall.

“In a way.” Thor nods. “She and I want to be together, but Jane is devoted to her work. She could not make the time for the obligations marrying me would entail.”

“Sounds selfish.” You observe, hating Jane a bit because she has what you didn’t know you wanted. Maybe not exactly Thor himself yet, but the love he has for her.

Thor says nothing for a moment, thinking probably. He stops walking and you stop beside him.

“I would not want her to give up her passions. In marrying me, Jane would lose her identity. Which is too important to her to give up. I could never ask her to do it.”

“Because you love her.” You agree.

“Yes.”

“Which is why you find it so easy to do it to me.” You explain, realizing it as you speak it. “Because you don’t care about me. Therefore, my identity has little value. To you.”

Thor’s speechless, staring at you as your own heart pounds. You don’t know where you conjured the audacity to say the words out loud as they came to you, but they’re true. Truer than even you know.

“I do care.” Thor argues softly, looking at your hand wrapped around his bicep.

“You don’t, Thor.” You shake your head, politely disagreeing.

“Yes, I do!” He argues, this time a little more heated.

“What do I do for a living?” You challenge and he stutters, thinking hard.

He furrows his brow, crinkly creases at the corners of his eyes as he ponders.

You observe it’s loveliness. Truly a creature of perfection even with the gold and black metal patch over his eye. If he cared about you, you might actually fall for him. If he gave two shits, you might be a goner.

“Your family left you an inheritance!” He points out, as if this is what you do.

“You don’t remember?” You ask, knowing the answer. “I told you when we met, though I only mentioned it in passing.”

“How am I expected to remember then? If you were not specific?” He retorts.

“If I’d been Jane, you would have remembered.” You tell him.

“No.” He disagrees. “I’m always this inattentive.”

You laugh once, shocked by his candor. “You’re such a liar.”

“I’m not! Ask anyone once we’re seated. They’ll all tell you that I never pay attention or listen. To anyone!” He insists, and you laugh again because he’s being sincere.

His gaze is slight shock as he looks at you, then it softens, and he chuckles with you.

“Why are you laughing?” You ask him.

“I don’t know.” He chuckles again. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, I suppose.”

This sobers you and your laugh dies off.

“Can I ask a favor?” You look at him, trying to read him like you’ve never tried to do so to anyone before.

“Of course.” He nods.

“I know you don’t love me. And I know that the likelihood of you loving me at any point in our marriage is nonexistent, but I really want to try and make this marriage work. I want it to be as real as possible.

“Which means I want you to be honest with me about everything. I don’t want any secrets. I don’t want to think you’re talking to or meeting Jane because you’re acting suspicious. If you have to see her,” And he seems to understand that you mean, if he feels like he needs to for his own sake, because he loves her. “I want to know that’s what you’re doing. Please, don’t make a fool of me, Thor.”

Thor considers you for a moment, absorbing your words as you wait for his response.

Instead of giving you what you want, he gives you a long head-to-toe. “I was right to choose this gown.”

He chose it?

“You look exquisite. Just as a princess should.” He admires. “Come, let’s go introduce you to my friends.”

As he pulls you towards the dining hall, your heart begins to pound again as nervous energy courses through your veins setting your limbs to white noise again. Tingly.

“They’re all very eager to meet the woman who will be Queen of Asgard.”

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” You worry.

Thor chuckles.

“I’m right there with you.”

[multifandhoem]

server collab || i

Server Collab from the Haikyuu HQ server with the prompt: Mirror fuck.

A/N: i apologize already to everyone reading this. It is LONG.

Genre: fluff, smut, a little bit of angst

Warnings: girlxgirl, girlxboyxgirl, it’s polyamory people you get it, some cursing, dom!Hanamaki, dom!Kiyoko to some extent, a bit of switch!Kiyoko, sub!Reader, anal stuff, toys, double penetration, oral everywhere, praise kink (is that a warning?), no actual mention of the word but.. anxiety, teeny tiny bit public stuff, mirror sex (duh)

Word count: 11.402 (i am sorry)

Gripping the straps of your backpack tighter you stepped into the hall of your new university, the bustling and shuffling of all the new freshmen and welcoming upperclassmen intimidated you a little bit. The girl that stepped infant of you seemed like an angel sent from heaven, something to concentrate on in this sea of new information. 

Her talking to you was probably mandatory. But after looking at her and not believing your own eyes after realizing the immense beauty she possessed made you feel special that you were the one receiving attention from that goddess. 

She introduced herself as Kiyoko Shimizu, a college senior, who wants to inform you about all the things you could do to put emphasis on yourself in college, especially if working and/or studying in a male-dominated environment.

You could hear your heart beating in your ears, desperately trying to snap out of the daze you were in to actually engage in a conversation with her. 

“What about potential jobs in my field?” You feared you were rude by interrupting her, but you had to blurt it out before the courage left you again. 

And the way her eyes lit up at the question of interest, fumbling her phone out of her pockets and basically thrusting it into your face. “I can tell you in detail if you want! Over coffee! Today or tomorrow, whichever you prefer!”

You didn’t even like coffee. And you had plans for the next days. But you still couldn’t stop yourself from eagerly typing your number into her phone, telling her you’re free whenever. 

Kiyoko messaged you two hours after you’ve left the venue, only walking around with your head in the clouds after the encounter with the pretty girl, which was also smart and seemed interested. A jackpot. 

She asked you if you were free the next day at noon and you replied embarrassingly fast, agreeing to the time and place she picked out. You would even grab something to eat together! Not just coffee! Did this classify as a date? You were more or less fresh out of high school, taking a gap year in between to take internships, travel, and really decide what major to choose. 

And now this drop-dead gorgeous woman wants to have lunch with you. 

Kiyoko told you to call her Shimizu in the first fifteen minutes of your lunch date. She laughed at your awkward jokes and even wiped some crumbs of your cheek. You talked about the ways how you could get a job in your field and she gave you helpful tips, but you also talked about everything else. Favorite foods, childhoods, family, and so on. 

Your nervousness faded the longer you talked and you really started to be yourself around her, especially when you left the small diner to just aimlessly walk around, chatting the whole time. It wasn’t until the end of your meet-up when everything came crashing down. 

“I have to go now, every Thursday it’s movie night for me and my boyfriend and today it’s my turn to pick! But we should totally do this again!” 

Of course, it was too good to be true. She hugged you with blushy cheeks, keeping her hands on your shoulder after distancing herself again. “Where do you live? I’ll walk you home!” 

“Oh, that’s not necessary. I live on campus, it’s close by!” You tried not to let your hurt show in your words. 

Why were you even hurt? You met for the second time today. You didn’t even know her. Your stupid hopes were to blame. You turned around quickly, throwing her a half-assed smile before hurrying back home to have a frustrated cry and then hopefully getting over her. 

— — — 

“15 minutes later and I would’ve been legally allowed to choose!” Hanamaki Takahiro waved his favorite comedy around with a cheeky grin, standing up to press a kiss to Kiyoko’s lips when she kicked her shoes off and placed them neatly onto the shoe rack next to the front door. 

“I’m going to change, then I’m ready.” She gave him another peck, before sauntering off into their shared bedroom, fingers already tugging on the blouse she had tucked into her jeans. “How was the lunch date with your junior?” 

Makki plopped back down onto the couch, spreading his long limbs, waiting for his girlfriend to come back. “Good. We talked a lot, she’s really nice. And very cute, too.” At that, he perked up. “Yeah?” The door to the bedroom opened again and Shimizu came out, now clad in sweatpants and a loose shirt. “Yeah. Reminds me of Yachi a bit. But in a hotter way, you know?” 

“In a hotter way? Tell me more! You should invite her to the apartment sometime!” With a big grin on his face, Makki pulled her closer to his chest, after she finally put her choice of a movie into the DVD Player and sat down onto the couch. 

“Maybe I will. She doesn’t really know anyone here in Tokyo. Maybe we can invite Mattsun, too. Or Iwaizumi. Maybe some of the Karasuno boys. But only Sawamura or Koshi, the others are too wild.” Makki had to laugh at that. “You just said she was hot and now you want to play matchmaker?” 

“Let’s talk later and watch the movie. But I really want to do more with her. She’s nice.” 

“And cute in a hot way,” he teased her, before concentrating on the starting movie. 

— — —

When Shimizu messaged you and invited you for dinner at her place you nearly died a little on the inside. That was until you remembered the boyfriend. But did it really matter? 

You still don’t know her fully, having only met her a couple of times. And you had great conversations the times you’ve met. Maybe you should get over your teeny tiny crush you imagined for the girl and just try winning her as a friend. 

You regretted it a bit when she asked if it was okay if her boyfriend and a friend of his joined you. But you still said it didn’t matter. 

So here you were, the bottle of mediocre white wine in your slightly shaking hand in front of the building. Shimizu had sent you the address the day before, also telling you which floor and apartment so you slowly entered and made your way up the flights of stairs, to not be sweaty when appearing in front of her doorstep. Unfortunately for you, it wasn’t her who opened the front door when you finally rang the doorbell. 

The man had a bright grin in his face, looking down on you with an unusual amount of interest. 

“You must be, Y/N, right? Nice to finally meet you, Mizu has been talking a lot about you!” I extended his arm in a friendly manner, even though he seemed more like the hugging type. 

Maybe Shimizu had told him that you weren’t that keen on first-time skinship. 

“I’m Hanamaki, but you can call me Makki.” He started talking again and only then you realized that you had not said anything yet. “Sorry, I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, too!” 

Why did you introduce yourself again? He already knew your name. Stupid. 

But he practically beamed at your response, stepping aside to let you in. “Come in, come in! Mizu is in the kitchen. I’m going to show you around for a bit. Well, it isn’t big anyways. As you can see we’re in the living room.” He seemed a bit nervous, but maybe you were just misinterpreting him. 

Shimizu interrupted him by coming out of an archway, hugging you in an instant. “I am so happy to see you again! How are you?” 

You felt your ears burning, being this close to her, but still managed to stutter out a response. “I’m fine, I think I’m kind of getting used to living alone.” Shimizu smiled at you approvingly. “Well, if you need help with anything, don’t be afraid to ask. Even if- oh shit!” Ringing from the room, you presumed it was the kitchen, interrupted Shimizu and she was quick to dash back there, leaving you alone with Hanamaki again. 

It was quiet only for a second before he was talking again. “Well, there is the kitchen. The apartment is pretty small really, through this door is a small hallway, our bedroom is on the left and the bathroom on the right.” He opened the door to the small hallway, pointing at the two doors while talking. 

“Ehm... Hanamaki-san.. is there a place where I can put this?” He blinked at you for a second, before his eyes darted down to your hands, which still clasped the bottle of wine between them. “Oh shit! Sorry, sorry, I’ll take it and put it in the refrigerator. That’s what you’re supposed to do with white wine, right?” He beckoned for you to follow him into the kitchen, where Shimizu was busy cutting away. You immediately felt a bit more relaxed around her and it seemed as it was the same for Hanamaki-san. 

“By the way, you really don’t have to call me Hanamaki-san. Just Hanamaki or Makki is fine!” The grin on his face was inviting and even though he didn’t seem that much as you type, you still found him attractive at that moment. Lazily leaning back against the counter, eyes focused on you, and grinning in such a friendly but still with a teasing edge to it. You nearly forgot to answer. “O-okay, Makki-san.” He playfully rolled his eyes at the honorific but decided to leave it at that. You had to chuckle a bit at his antics, missing the content smile that adored Shimizu’s face while she was watching you over her shoulder. 

“Can I help you with anything, Shimizu-san?” You felt bad that she was the only one working, now stirring the pot she had added the freshly cut vegetables into. “No, no, it’s okay! I’m nearly finished, anyway, I just need to add the stock and then this will have to cook for a while.” She threw you a dazzling smile and to accentuate her words, she poured a jug of liquid into the pot, putting a lid halfway on afterward and setting a timer. 

You knew that it would still take a while until you would start eating together. But it still felt weird being here without any purpose. 

“Let’s go back into the living room!” Hanamaki gently laid a hand onto your back, pushing you back into the biggest room of the apartment while Shimizu washed her hands. “Do you want to open a bottle of wine?” Shimizu called after you and you made an affirmative noise. “For me a beer!” 

Hanamaki and you took a seat on the couch, he was comfortably spread out while your position was still a bit stiff. You didn’t know him after all. 

 “Wait, babe, you should’ve said something!” He shot up again, helping Shimizu, who balanced two wine glasses and a bottle of beer in one hand and a wine bottle already in a cooler in the other. “You could have used your head!” The jab could’ve been snappy, but the playful tone softened in a way that made you understand their relationship for the first time.  

They must’ve known each other for a long time.

“How did you two meet?” The question escaped you before you could hold your curiosity back. “I managed the boys' volleyball team in high school and Hiro was on our opponent's team,” Shimizu explained while giving you a filled wine glass. “I nearly hit the other manager of her team with a stray ball.” Hanamaki giggled at the memory. “Mizu here saved poor Yachi and I went over to apologize and well, as they say, the rest is history!” He blinked exaggeratedly at Shimizu, who just scoffed with a smile. “We didn’t really start talking until we moved to Tokyo. And then I met him on my way to the convenience store and we decided to talk a bit.”

It was so normal and simple. But still very romantic in your eyes. “Like we were meant to be!” Hanamaki dramatically threw himself back onto the couch, his now opened beer bottle securely in his hand. Shimizu took a seat in the armchair slightly across from you and you felt kind of weird, separating the couple like that. But both looked content, you didn’t want to destroy the atmosphere by doing something awkward. 

Knowing you, it would happen sooner or later anyway. 

But at least for the next few minutes, you had peace, engaging in various small talk with the two of them, gradually relaxing and even cracking some jokes on your own, much to the delight of Hanamaki. And as the lightweight you were you could already feel the glass of wine, admittedly, you had downed that very quickly on a near-empty stomach. But you didn’t mind the relaxed atmosphere. Not worrying about everything you did or said was quite soothing for a change. 

“Oikawa was pretty dumb, you know one time…” Hanamaki interrupted himself by laughing and seeing his eyes crinkle in joy made a dreaded warmth bloom in your chest. You were reminiscing on your old high school days, Hanamaki being at it with stories from his team captain for the last twenty minutes. When he wanted to start again, still gasping for air, the doorbell interrupted him, and an excited look shot across his face. “Mattsun!” 

With a huge grin on his face, he darted across the room to the front door, opening it in an abrupt motion, to showcase the tall dark-haired male behind it for a second until he was already engulfed by Hanamaki. Both men hugged for a solid minute until Hanamaki ushered the other one, Mattsun apparently, in. Shimizu had also stood up to hug the newcomer, leaving you kind of awkwardly standing by the side. “That’s Y/N. She’s a friend of Shimizu’s and a freshman!” Thank god for the wine or you would’ve nearly passed out when Hanamaki suddenly threw an arm around your shoulder and pressed you into his side. 

“Hi, nice to meet you! I’m Matsukawa Issei. Hiro and I went to high school together.” The tall stranger extended his hand towards you and you shook it with a friendly smile on your face. “Nice to meet you too, Matsukawa-san.” 

After Matsukawa had finished his first beer, you and Shimizu were nearly down with the bottle of wine, the timer rang from the kitchen, indicating that the sauce was finished and the meat was perfectly tender. 

Eating something felt good, it cleared your head a bit from the alcohol, especially the glass of water you had next to your wine helped. Matsukawa was a bit quieter than Hanamaki but still held an active conversation. Shimizu however was another story. She was much quieter than when you met up with only the two of you, silently observing everything going on at the table and only occasionally adding her thoughts. You liked it. It would be overwhelming to have multiple different opinions voiced at all times. And getting to know something different about Kiyoko Shimizu was always a pleasure.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki were joking the whole time, making you snort into your glass more than once, but you got rewarded by the proud smiles they sent your way. As the second bottle of wine slowly disappeared into your’s and Shimizu’s stomach, the men cracked their third or fourth bottle of beer open when everyone was more than stuffed with the delicious dinner Shimizu and Hanamaki had conjured. 

 “So, I would say we load up the dishwasher, and then we wait a bit before dessert or else Mattsun will blow up.” Hanamaki stood up and started collecting all of the plates, ready to take them into the kitchen. “Damn right, I will,” Mattsun grunted affirmatively but stood up with everyone else to make the cleanup faster. 

Shortly after you were all huddled in the living room again, the couch now more crowded with Shimizu, Hanamaki, and you, while Matsukawa took up the armchair, dangling his legs from the sides. If you would shift just a bit, your thighs would be touching Shimizu’s. But you tried to contain yourself. It would only make everything uncomfortable for everybody around. 

It was weird sitting there with them. You anticipated feeling left out, they all knew each other since high school and you only got to know two of them today. Yet everything fell somehow into place. Shimizu’s occasional giggle or when she added something to the stories the other two were animatedly telling, Hanamaki’s touchy personality, where he hit you continuously every time he laughed too hard, apologizing afterwards, still with a glimmer in his eyes and Matsukawa’s jokes he cracked. 

The evening turned into nighttime and sooner than not you were growing tired, yawning every other minute, head slightly dropping down only for you to catch yourself again. 

“Aw, baby, are you growing tired?” In the past hours, they had teased you about being the youngest, all of them being two years older than you. Shimizu had once even described you as her baby, obviously not knowing what it did to you. She even asked very concernedly if you were alright when your face looked like a blazing tomato. 

You could only nod at Hanamaki’s words, rubbing your eyes and standing up, a bit wobbly on your feet from sitting so long and the amount of alcohol you had consumed. “I’ll call it a night then. Thank you for inviting me.” You shot a smile at Shimizu and Hanamaki, turning to Matsukawa right afterwards. “It was nice meeting you!” 

“Likewise!” You shared a quick hug before you made your way over to the door, to slip into your shoes. “I’ll walk you home, it’s already late.” Hanamaki surprised you a bit when he also slipped into an oversized bomber jacket and worn down sneakers, grabbing a set of keys and patiently waiting next to the door. 

“No, no, you really don’t have to. I’ll be fine,” you tried to convince him, only receiving an unimpressed stare as an answer. “It’s better like this. It’s dark and you drank something. But still text me when you get home, okay?” Shimizu embraced you in a long hug, swaying you around very slightly while you nuzzled your face into her shoulder.

“Makki?” 

“Yeah?” 

The fresh air had done wonders to sober you up and now you had been walking alongside Makki for a while, engaging in a bit of small talk but it had been quiet for the last few minutes. “What do you do for a living? I just realized you never said anything.” He chuckled at your question. “I thought something serious was coming. And I work as a real estate agent. I like working with people and so on, but I don’t think it’s something longterm. I’m honestly considering just dropping everything and getting professionally trained in pastry making. Maybe even going to culinary school, who knows.” 

The smile he shot you was different than the others you had seen from him. It was rawer, more gentle than his usual teasing ones. “Really? I can actually see it, I mean the small raspberry cakes were amazing! I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything that delicious before!”

His smile widened at that and he straightened up a little bit more. “That was nothing! You should taste my creampuffs. They are my favorite, that’s why I make them so often, they’re kind of my specialty,” he admitted and scratched the back of his head. “I’ll make them for you next time. You should come over soon anyways. Shimizu likes you. Usually, she doesn’t talk that much when we have people over.” You looked at him surprised. Shimizu talked even less usually? Does that mean you weren’t wrong when you thought you had a special connection? 

A blush crept across your face at the thought but you quickly tried to dismiss it again. “You know, you’re pretty cute.” 

Remember when you tried not to blush that hard. It’s not working. Not at all. 

“You can’t say something like that!” Wildly flailing your hands around did nothing to help your flustered state and that strawberry idiot had the audacity to laugh at you! 

Apparently, the alcohol hadn’t cleared up as much as you had thought, or else your heart wouldn’t hammer so loudly against your chest. 

Luckily your building was coming into view, hopefully freeing you from your embarrassment. “But I’m serious, we should do something together again. Soon. If you want, Mattsun is still here tomorrow, we could hang out again. Or well, anytime you want to hang out, I’m sure you just have to give us a call and in like 95% of all cases we’re down.” He scratched the back of his head again. “Oh.”

That kind of surprised you. It was already a wonder that Shimizu, the hot senior girl, talked to you for more than a second. But now her equally hot boyfriend wanted you to join them more often. You weren’t anything special, why would they want to hang out with you? They for sure had other friends. 

“I am free tomorrow if it really isn’t a bother.” You had to take your chances right? Even if hanging out with the attractive couple would probably make your heart go into overdrive the entire time. 

“Of course it’s not a bother!” His step was a lot more feathery, that was until you came to a stop in front of your building, him stopping a couple feet in front of you, turning around with a questioning expression on his face. 

“That’s my building,” you explained, vaguely gesturing towards the entrance. “Okay, alright. Do you need me to walk you up to your room? It really would not be a bother!” 

“It’s okay, there’s security. But thank you for walking me. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” Saying goodbye felt kind of weird.

“Yeah, sure, I think Shimizu will text you the details, if not, I will!” 

After a goodbye hug which lasted way too long to be considered normal, you parted again, with him watching every step you took towards the entrance hall. 

“Y/N! Over here!” Shimizu was waving her arm around for you to spot her easily. As if it wasn’t easy enough already with Hanamaki and Matsukawa towering over her and literally everybody else. “I’m so happy you could make it!” Shimizu clasped your hands in hers, pressing them unnecessarily close to her chest, in your opinion. Had nobody here respect for your poor heart? 

The group had planned to do some shopping before Matsukawa had to grab his train back to Miyagi. It was quite fitting anyways, you needed some new clothes. 

Matsukawa left after a few hours, hugging every one of you for goodbye. You had offered going home too, not wanting intrude on their couple time, but both of them were adamant about taking you with them. So here you were, looking at some clothes while Shimizu was in the aisle behind you and Hanamaki was roaming through the dresses next to you, after you had mentioned you wanted some. “What do you think about this?” Shimizu reappeared in your aisle, holding up a dress for you to look at. “Well, it’s pretty, but I don’t know if it’ll suit me..” Cue to the dress being thrust into your hands. “You never know until you try!” You kept on browsing for a while until you and Shimizu disappeared in two changing cabins with Hanamaki waiting in front of them in the designated seating area. 

“It’s pretty, but a bit short I guess. I mean, if you bend down you would flash literally everyone.” “If it were tighter around the waist it would be a better fit.” “That’s good, but not elevated. A nice dress for your free time, you know?” Hanamaki was a surprisingly good shopping companion, giving insightful comments to everything you and Shimizu tried on. 

“Oh, this one looks so good!” Shimizu was already finished, now sitting outside with her boyfriend, looking at you with wide eyes as you came out with your personal favorite. Hanamaki’s eyes shot to Shimizu for a second, before landing on you again. “You look hot!” Shimizu nodded in agreement. “You have to take that!” You blushed at their comments, fingers toying with the hem of your dress. “Are you sure? Isn’t it too much?” To be fair, you were fishing for compliments a little bit. It looked really good, but it was also kind of expensive. Not that expensive where you have to gasp when seeing the price but it wasn’t classified cheap either. “Yeah, take it. Hiro is right, you look stunning.” The way Shimizu talks is as if she’s always stating facts does something to you. Especially when she was praising you like that. 

After those two days you spent with them, your hangouts became much more frequent. If your schedules aligned you would eat lunch with Shimizu in the cafeteria, Hanamaki would pick you up in his car when the weather was bad, driving you to your dorm or occasionally to their apartment. You had stopped feeling weird about hanging out with them on your own. They were a great couple to be around, not overly touchy, and just respectful of you being there. 

The worst part was by far the fact that your initial attraction to them had blossomed into a full-grown crush. It didn’t help at all that Makki was a touchy person, often throwing arms around your shoulder or your waist, sometimes cuddling up to you on the couch on movie night every Thursday. But you didn’t want to let that have any impact on your friendship. Not only were they really great friends, but it was also pretty helpful as a freshman in a new city to have older friends from college and work life, who could help you with some things where you would usually have called your parents in frustration. So you just kept it to yourself, blushing every time when Shimizu nuzzles her face into the crook of your neck or holds your hand to not lose you in a crowd. 

You still wouldn’t have it any other way. Being with them like this was enough for you, especially since they liked babying you as the youngest. To be honest, you thrived in the attention you were receiving in those moments. 

One time you were cooking together and you had cut your finger, it wasn’t anything deep, really, but you bled a little. And both of them immediately huddled around you, cleaning your finger and putting a plaster on the cut, all while Makki was holding you and Shimizu was cradling your hands, even pressing a small kiss on the cut. 

But at the end of the day, you were still only friends while they were a couple. Even if you wished it was different. 

“Here, little one. Here, babe.” The kiss Makki pressed to the crown of your head startled you. Usually, it was Shimizu who showed her affection like this, and feeling his lips on your head made a heat blossom in your chest, all the way up to your face. He did the same to Shimizu, setting two small plates with sweets in front of you, together with a new jug of lemon water. 

You shot him a thankful smile, even though the redness on your cheeks was probably still prominent. 

It was leading up to finals week and you and Shimizu were studying alongside at their kitchen table, trying to push every last drop of information into your overflowing brains. 

Makki was also pretty busy since he decided to really quit his job and start an apprenticeship at a bakery in the midst of Tokyo. 

“You should take a break, babe.” 

“Yeah, Mizu, you’ve been studying for hours, come join us.” 

Makki and you were trying to coax Shimizu into joining you on the couch to relax a bit before going back into studying. You had finished the course you wanted to revise today and called it a day since it was already late, but Shimizu was still going strong, not even pausing once for anything other than going to the bathroom. 

Makki threw you a look when Shimizu didn’t respond and in a second he hurled her up into his arms, forcefully carrying her over to the couch. You giggled a bit at the picture, skipping behind them to sit on the other side of Shimizu, throwing your arms around her. “What are you doing? I need to study!” She was squirming in your holds but it only made you hug her harder. “No, you need a break. Let’s order pizza and cuddle.” 

Makki chuckled at your words. “That’s a perfect idea. You can still study afterward, okay babe?” Shimizu slowly gave up in your holds and an idea came to your mind. 

Before your courage left you again you moved a bit and pressed a small peck to her jaw, something she had done to you countless times. 

A gasp escaped her and she looked at you with wide eyes, making you blush instantly. “I’m sorry, I thought it was oka-“

And suddenly her lips were on yours. The sensation left before you could even blink. Your eyes were fixed on the dark-haired girl in front of you, who nervously bit on her lip, then they shot to Makki. And he smiled. Why was he smiling? His girlfriend just kissed someone else in front of him? 

Nobody said anything for a while and you felt like you were going into overdrive. You didn’t feel like you could move and the beating of your heart was prominent in your ears. What was that supposed to mean? Was it a friendly kiss? Why were they looking at you like that? 

“I- I mean we, we kind of like you, you know.” It was Shimizu who finally broke the silence, nervousness evident in her tone. What.

They liked you? You? Out of all people? And where were they going with this? 

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I thought you were interested, too. I didn’t want to ruin anything!” Tears were appearing in her eyes and your heart broke a little at the thought that you were the reason for that. 

“I- know- I mean I like you. Both of you. But- why?” You finally managed to push some words out of your mouth, still not believing what was happening. “Why we like you? Oh, Y/N, you’re like so nice, and cute, and you’re always there and brightening up our lives! In the beginning, we thought it was just an attraction, but over the past year it became so much more than that.”

One of Makki’s arms left its place around Shimizu and he gently cradled your face in his hands. “We would like to try being in a relationship. With you. Like all three of us, together.” 

This was a dream. It has to be. There was no way they would sacrifice their normal relationship to do something like this with you. 

“Can I kiss you again?” After you didn’t answer for a while, Shimizu shyly spoke up again. “Please.” If it was a dream you could at least live it to its fullest. 

This time you kissed her back, pushing yourself against her until you all fell against Makki, who leaned back and let you make out on top of him. 

Softly, Shimizu’s tongue started prodding at your lips and you opened your mouth a bit too willingly, ready to take whatever she was willing to give to you. 

“Can- eh- me too?” Makki’s eyes were big and hopeful when you parted and surprised you turned your head towards him. They said they both liked you. But it was still unbelievable. 

You leaned down, either way, to connect your still wet lips to his’. 

You don’t think you’ve ever been that content as you were now.

“So, you want to try? The relationship? With us?” It had taken a while until you were finally able to disconnect your lips from theirs, as soon as you finished kissing one, the desire to feel the other one would arise. “Are you sure?” You felt dumb as soon as you asked the question and Shimizu’s small giggle only confirmed your fears. 

“Of course, we’re sure. We’ve talked about it for months since we weren’t sure how to introduce you to the topic without it being like weird or overwhelming.” Makki pressed another kiss to your lips, chuckling at the way your face lit up afterwards. “Is that a yes to the relationship?” 

“Yeah, of course! I mean.. I really like you.” They cooed at your words and immediately you were getting covered in kisses again. 

“Do you want to stay the night?” The question made you tense up. Even though you had moved to the bedroom to continue your kisses in a more comfortable way than with one of you nearly falling off the couch, you still didn’t think you were ready for something sexual. You couldn’t believe everything was real yet anyways. “Not in that way. Like, just sleep,” Hanamaki was quick to correct himself. 

 Despite being friends with them for almost a year you had never stayed the night alone. Once, three other people from their high school days, Daichi, Nishinoya, and Mattsun, stayed over after all of you went partying, but every other time Makki or both of them had walked you home since your apartment was only a 20 minute walk away. 

“I- yeah sure.” Sleeping and cuddling were fine. And you wanted to live out this dream for as long as possible. “I’ll give you a shirt of mine and some shorts from Mizu! Do you want long or short stuff?” Excitedly Hanamaki jumped off the bed, leaving you cuddled up in Shimizu’s arms. “Short, please.” Shimizu and you also stood up, once Makki had everything laid out, leading to a slightly awkward moment, whether you would change here or separately. “I’ll head to the bathroom.” You didn’t quite feel comfortable shedding everything right now so you used the opportunity where none of them offered something else. 

When you came back, both of them were already in their sleeping attire, too. A sting of jealousy hit you right in the heart, at the thought that they had already seen each other naked and once again your brain reminded you of the fact that they were already in a relationship for more than three years, making you just the new awkward add on. But they immediately took you back into their arms and it was like all your worries disappeared. 

“I can’t stop kissing you.” To emphasize his words Makki pressed little pecks all over your face, making you giggle. “I can’t believe you’re ours now.” Shimizu looked at you with big loving eyes, squeezing your hands for a second. 

“Well, let’s continue our earlier plans. Pizza and cuddles, right?” 

In the weeks to come, you didn’t have as much time for them as you would have liked. Hopefully, after your last exam that would start to change, especially since you were getting kind of needy. There were only that so many times how often you could wake up with Hiro’s boner pressing against your ass without him doing anything, other than maybe grinding up into you when you started a small make-out session. You really wished that would change once you all had more time on your hands. 

“Congratulations on finishing all your exams!” Shimizu engulfed you in a hug before you even had time to shout your hello’s. “Thank you, Mizu.” You giggled excitedly, the euphoria of finally completing all your exams overwhelming your emotions. “What do you say we go on a date? We never went on an official one, so we can do that once Hiro’s off work.” You nodded excitedly at her offer, pressing your lips to hers. You were becoming addicted to their kisses, never being able to go long without them when they were in close proximity of yours. 

It didn’t take long until her fingers were tangled in your hair and you were pushed back on the couch, her other hand roaming over your body, but being careful not to touch any of your intimate areas. 

Only when you obviously ground up into her hands she tentatively took one of your boobs into her hand, squeezing it experimentally. It wasn’t much but for your touch starved body, it was enough to enlist a small moan. 

“We should wait for Hiro, baby.” She was a bit breathless when she sat up and withdrew her hand from your boobs. “Don’t pout. Go shower and get ready for our date, I’m going to make reservations and inform Hiro.” She fully crawled off you, leaving an empty feeling behind but you still complied. “Where will we go?” Your voice was a bit hoarse from not talking for the last 20 minutes and you coughed a little to get it back. 

“Something fancy. Do you have fitting clothes here?” Smiling she leaned down again to kiss you another time, much shorter than before and that made you realize that maybe, she was equally addicted to you. 

“I have some dresses but I don’t know if it’s really fancy. Maybe I’ll have to go home for a bit,” you admitted. “That’s okay baby if you do your makeup here, how much time do you think it’ll take?” If you already knew what you were going to wear it shouldn’t take long. But maybe you had to iron it for it to really look good. But probably a max of 20 minutes. “I don’t know, 20 minutes maybe if you help me pick something out.” Shimizu chuckled and the sound alone was enough for a smile to emerge on your face. “We will join.” 

After her promise she sent you to the bathroom with a slight tap to your butt, sending tingles up your spine with the short contact. 

You really hoped that she got the hint that you wanted to do something more. You would probably be to shy to ask them directly. And you even shaved every hair on your body that wasn't necessary in your opinion. You wanted to be at your best for them, cleaning especially thorough down there.

Never in a million years would you look good next to the goddess named Kiyoko Shimizu. She had an enticing lipstick on and you never wanted anything more than to kiss it right off her. Her body was adorned by a black midi dress with a slit at the side and a dangerously low cleavage. 

“Shimizu you look so good!” You couldn’t stop gaping at your girlfriend, hands running over her sides, smelling her sweet perfume. “Thank you, baby!” She pressed a soft kiss to your lips, careful to not destroy your makeup. 

“Shit, I’m so lucky.” Hiro was staring in awe when leaving the bathroom, his eyes trained on Shimizu, whereas your eyes couldn’t believe what they saw. In what world did creampuff loving Hanamaki Takahiro have a body like that?

He was fresh out of the shower, only clad in tight black boxer briefs, ruffling through his hair with a towel. It was like a painting. And when he came over to give Shimizu and you a kiss on the lips you once again realized how gorgeous those two people were. And then there was you. 

“Do you have any idea what you’re wearing yet? Thanks, babe.” He took the grey button-up and the black pants with a slightly checkered pattern Shimizu ironed earlier out of her hands with a huge smile. 

“Noo,” you wailed and dramatically fell back onto the bed, pleased with yourself once you heard them laugh. “I’m sure we’ll find something amazing. You look hot either way. You already do, now. I could eat you!” Shimizu jokingly pulled you closer to the edge where she stood by your legs, hovering over you only to press a feather-light peck onto your lips. 

Hiro chuckled at the way you shuddered and shot you a knowing wink once your eyes met, making you blush a deep rose. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been here.” Hiro and Shimizu looked around interested, even though your small room was not that great at all. “It’s nothing special.” You got a bit shy at the way they were inspecting everything in great detail, leaning down to analyze every picture. 

“What do you think of this?” You tried taking their attention off your family picture you had on your desk, holding up a dark green trouser with a black blouse. “It’s cute, definitely a contender. I would have to see it on you, though.” You nodded in agreement, laying the outfit down carefully on your bed, which has been nearly unused for the last month. “What about this?” Your next choice got a unified shaking of heads and after the third failed attempt you didn’t know if there was anything left in your small closet that was to some extent suitable for today. 

That was until you pulled the last dress out. Personally, you probably wouldn’t have gone for it out of fear to be overdressed, but Shimizu and Hiro were delighted. “That’s it. You have to wear that! We’re going to be the hottest group in Tokyo!” Hiro was especially enthusiastic but he got quiet real quick when you shyly pulled your sweatshirt over your head to change into the dress. It wasn’t as if you had other choices. You didn’t want to change in the bathroom down the hall and your room didn’t really have any other options. 

 “Fuck, baby, give a man a warning next time, will you?” Both of them moved closer to you, hands starting to roam your body, pressing the occasional kiss to your shoulders. “You’re so beautiful, baby.” Shimizu’s fingers played with the hem of your sweatpants, helping you out of them. “We have to go to the reservation, don’t we?” Hiro’s voice sounded pained and he pulled back his hands from your body. Shimizu followed his example, giving you room to continue changing. Now overly aware of their eyes on your body you slipped into the dress, turning around in a silent request for someone to pull your zipper up. 

“God, you’re hot.” To hear something like that from Shimizu, the equation of a goddess was unreal and in an instant you blushed again, hand moving up to fix your hair, which didn’t need any fixing at all. 

“But there are some panty lines visible.” Hiro’s comment made all eyes fixate on your private region and the lines on the side of your hips. “Do you have any other underwear here?” You shook your head at Shimizu’s question. “I already chose the one with like the least seams. “I don’t think we have time to go back to the apartment or else I could’ve lent you some.” Shimizu seemed deep in thought and even though the thought of wearing Shimizu’s underwear made you feel some kind of way, you only had one possible option in mind. “I could take them off.”

“Do you need anything else? A coffee maybe? Or another drink?” The waiter in the restaurant was reappearing, after taking your empty dessert platters back. “No, thank you. Just the check please.” Hiro’s hand felt hot on your thigh. It hasn’t moved since the main course was finished, occasionally giving it a squeeze. 

When the check arrived and you wanted to fish your wallet out of your bag the hand squeezed you again, harder than before. “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got it. This is a celebration for you, after all!” You didn’t order anything of the most expensive stuff, but you still felt bad at him spending money on you. “You don’t have to, you know? I can pay for myself!” He silenced you with a smile and just gave the waiter his card, not letting you see the amount under the line. 

“Thank you, really. You didn’t have to pay for me.” You took both of their hands in yours, squeezing them to really show your thankfulness. “Baby, we wanted to. On top of that, splitting the check would’ve taken too long. I’m quite impatient, to be honest.” Shimizu smiled at you knowingly, only making you blink dumbly. “Impatient?” 

They both laughed at that, Hiro opening the car door for you and Shimizu as you reached the vehicle. “Knowing that you don’t have any underwear on is killing me on the inside.” He murmured into your ear and immediately you felt heat engulfing your entire body. Flushed with embarrassment and excitement you took your seat on the backseat. 

Only then you realized that both of them seemed pretty tense, hurrying already in the restaurant to go home as soon as possible. You had thought that maybe they had another thing planned and apparently you weren’t that far off with your assumption. 

Nervousness was laced in every step you took up to their apartment. “Hey.” You jumped a bit when Shimizu laid a hand on the middle of your back in front of their front door and turned around to face their concerned expressions. “We don’t have to do anything, you know that, right? We can stop at kissing, we can go all the way or something in between.” You nodded. “I want to.” Your voice was quiet but certain. And as soon as you said that she kissed you in a way she hadn’t kissed you before. The prior make out session probably came the closest but with this kiss, you could feel every intention was to get you naked and writhing underneath her. 

Hiro gently pushed you through the now opened door, feeling you up at the same time. 

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous. And so filthy. Going out without your underwear. How did it feel knowing you were sitting in that room full of people?” His hand sneaked over your backside, squeezing and pinching every bit of flesh available. 

“Did you ever think what you were doing to us? If it was me without any panties I would’ve for sure creamed on the chair with how wet I got at the thought of you.” You whimpered at their dirty talk, unable to form an answer, only trying to make them feel what you felt, hands carefully groping at Shimizu’s breasts, hips rutting into Hiro’s crotch. 

“Come on, baby, go to the bedroom. Today’s about you.” They followed you closely, closing the door behind themselves. 

Immediately the feeling in the room was different. You turned around to face them and came to face with Hiro unbuttoning his shirt and helping Shimizu out of her dress right afterwards. It made the fire of anticipation burn even hotter in your chest. Their hands soon were back on your body again, this time even slightly dipping under your skirt, caressing your bare thighs. “Turn around.” You nearly missed the murmur of Shimizu against your collarbone if it weren’t for her turning you around herself. She pulled the zipper down excruciatingly slow and you felt goosebumps appear all over your body at the way the dress slowly slipped from your figure, different pairs of lips covering every newly exposed skin in light kisses. 

They led you towards the bed, making you lay on your back. It felt weird, having your lower half uncovered but still having a bra on. Apparently, Hiro thought the same thing, releasing you from the garment. “You’re dripping,” Shimizu noted, dipping a finger between your lips and coating it in your essence. “Give me a taste.” You didn’t know you could get even hornier just by watching Hiro lick your arousal from your girlfriend's finger. “Please.” 

Both of them looked at you with a smile on their faces and Shimizu brought her finger back down, softly rubbing at your clit, enjoying the way your body twitched at the small shots of pleasure. “Adorable,” Hiro commented, perching himself next to you on the bed to dedicate himself to your boobs, nipping and licking away at your nipples. 

Your hands twitched towards Hiro, wanting to touch him, too, to do something other than just laying there, but they were immediately swatted away. “Next time, baby.”

You wanted to protest, but Shimizu’s finger slipped into your cunt, wiggling around and making you gasp in surprise. “Hiro, babe, you should continue, you have bigger fingers and we really want to spoil our princess, don’t we?” He pressed one last kiss to your breast, leaving your abused nipples to let his hand wander towards your pussy, not giving you any time to adjust but just pushing his pointer finger inside and relishing in the way you moaned. “Shimizu. Please. I want to do something!” Your breathing became more uneven by the second but you still weren’t content with just laying there doing nothing. “If you’re a good baby and come soon you can eat me out while Hiro fucks you,” she offered you, making your hips twitch towards Hiro’s hands, to speed up the process. Him fucking you with his finger felt good, but you would need more than one to come. “More fingers, please!” He complied with a chuckle and added a second one. 

“Greedy little baby.”

He fastened his pace too, varying between just thrusting his fingers and scissoring and curling them, making all kinds of noises escape your mouth. Shimizu straddled you backwards, facing Hiro and hovering her cunt in your field of vision but just out of reach. You could just grab her and pull her back towards her face but as soon as your hands even twitched by your side Hiro let out a warning growl. “Don’t even think about it or I will tie you up while I fuck her on top of you for hours.”

You whimpered at that, crying out in surprise when suddenly Shimizu began rubbing your clit again. The combined stimulation was already making the knot in your stomach form. You would’ve never thought that just looking at Shimizu’s pussy would do that much to you. You could see her folds glistening and it looked downright delicious. If you breathed in deeply you could even smell her. 

She intensified her rubbing on your clit, leaning down more to take her tongue into the action, lapping at your bundle of nerves without hindering Hiro in his moves. Your moans got louder and you became more and more breathless by gasping for air the whole time. And when Hiro added a third finger, thrusting into you even harder you were done for. 

Spasming under Shimizu’s weight they didn’t halter their movements, holding your legs open to continue. 

Hiro hadn’t even pulled out his fingers completely when Shimizu was already moving back, thrusting her pussy into your face, making you lap up her juices like a starved man. You couldn’t hold back your moans at the way she tasted, relishing in the deliciousness. 

“Here babe.” Hiro thrust his fingers into Shimizu’s mouth, making her gag and as a result her pussy clenched around nothing. How bad you wanted to just finger her, maybe fuck her with a dildo, make er feel good. But you were scared they were going to stop completely when you disobeyed.

All your thoughts vanished when Hiro suddenly pushed his whole length inside you, making you moan loudly against Shimizu’s cunt. “Fuck, you’re doing so good, baby, please keep going, I’m going to cum soon.” She started rutting against your face, trying to rub her clit against your chin, while your whole body shook with every thrust Hiro delivered. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re tight. You’re practically milking me!”

The overstimulation was going to your head, you were already feeling another orgasm approaching. The attempt to rut your hips against Hiro’s was quickly diminished by his large hands holding you down onto the mattress. 

“You look hot, babe.” You could practically hear his grin out of his voice, feeling Shimizu chuckle. Then there were two new sensations. Two fingers slipped between your chin and Shimizu’s clit, rubbing figure eights, as well as on your clit. The pleasure was building up more and more, you couldn’t even try to decipher whose hand was whose, you just wanted to chase your high and apparently they shared your sentiments, since this time nobody intervened when you met every thrust of Hiro with your hips. 

You were the first to come with a loud cry against Shimizu’s cunt, still trying to stick out your tongue to maybe provide her with more pleasure. Shimizu followed with a guttural moan, a new gush of wetness releasing all over your face, getting greedily lapped up by you.

She climbed off of you not long after, chuckling at your whine when Hiro pulled out. “On the floor, on your knees.” Both of you complied instantly, waiting next to each other as he started jacking himself over your faces. 

It didn’t take long until spurts of hot semen shot across your faces, partly landing in you awaiting mouths. “Fuck you look good like that. My girls. I’m so lucky, shit.” He lovingly caressed your chins with his thumbs, pushing some of the excess cum into your mouths. 

You already wanted to swallow, when Shimizu turned your head towards her, connecting your lips together and mixing your spit and cum, probably tasting herself in the process.

When you parted again Hiro looked incredibly proud, helping you back to your feet. “You both did so well. Lay down, I’ll get a towel.”

You had often cuddled with Shimizu, but feeling her naked skin against yours was a whole other feeling. But you weren’t complaining. And when Hiro joined you, too, after having cleaned up your faces and lower parts, it was as if everything was perfect.

You didn’t know why it hurt so much, seeing them walk up the stairs arm in arm. Of course, they were having dates on their own. You sometimes hung out with one of them at a time, too. But something about them being all dressed up and in love without you made pain shoot through your chest. 

You had a really bad day, the weather was shit and you had woken up late, nearly missing one of your most important lectures, only forgetting your umbrella and coming to university wet from the rain, in sweatpants without having brushed your hair and without any makeup on. 

 And now seeing your boyfriend and girlfriend happily coming back from a date after not answering your calls if one of them could pick you up because of the weather, it hurt. 

You couldn’t help the tears that shot into your eyes and in an instant you tried to escape the oncoming situation, dashing towards the elevator, pressing the button to hopefully disappear before they saw you. “Y/N?” Shit. That worked out perfectly. You rushed into the elevator, not being able to repress your sob, immediately pushing onto the buttons that closed the door and the ground floor. “Y/N!” 

Your eyes met for a second and you could see them taking hurried steps towards you when the doors closed. As soon as you were out of their sights the tears didn’t stop falling, the painful twinge in your chest getting stronger by the second. Gasping for air you tried to not cry before being back in your room, which you wouldn’t have for long, anyways. You had been in a relationship for nearly a year and it was in the planning that you would move in with them soon, but you weren’t so sure if you wanted that anymore. You always felt like the add on, especially with them living together and you spend at least two nights a week at your own place before morning classes, since your way to university was shorter that way. 

What you didn’t expect as soon as the doors opened again at the ground floor was Hiro, nearly taking four steps at once, flying down the stairs to pull you into his arms as soon as you even stepped out of the elevator. 

“Please don’t leave.” His voice was strained as he mumbled the words into your ear and at that moment every resistance you had broken down, tears falling freely, soaking his black button-up as you shook in his arms. 

You couldn’t even try to form any words to explain yourself, to bring yourself to turn away, everything that escaped you were loud sobs as he slowly maneuvered you back into the elevator and pressed the floor of their apartment. He was stroking your back constantly, pressing kisses into your head in-between mumbled shhh’s. 

When you were back in front of the apartment the door was already open, Shimizu waiting with a worried expression, rushing towards you as soon as she laid her eyes on you, making you cry even harder.

They settled you onto the couch, caged in their arms without any of you saying a word. 

“Baby..” You were shocked to see tears streaming down Shimizu’s face when you looked up to meet her eyes. How could this affect her?

“I’m sorry,” you finally brought out. “I don’t want you to feel sad!”

“Baby, you have nothing to be sorry for. What happened? Did we do something wrong? We didn’t have any connection in the restaurant and when we tried to call you back you didn’t answer.” They had called you? Did your phone die? It must have. You didn’t hear any ringing. “I’m sorry,” you repeated. 

The way they were clinging onto you made you feel incredibly loved. You already didn’t understand how you could ever think they didn’t love you. They had shown you multiple times how much they cherished you but your doubts always got the better of you as soon as you were alone. 

“I’m sorry! I- I had a bad day and then you didn’t pick up and I thought you were tired of me.” Finally, you could give them an explanation. And show them that you really had to apologize for jumping into conclusions and making them worry. You didn’t deserve them.

“Of course we love you, Y/N. We love you so much, I can’t even comprehend sometimes how I can love somebody as much as I love you and Shimizu.” Even Hiro was crying, his face still buried in your hair. 

“But you’re so perfect! And I’m me. I always doubt myself and need constant verification for everything.” 

“That’s the point, though. You’re you. And we love showering you in affection. At least for me, it makes me feel like a goddess, being able to put a smile on your face just by kissing you and giving you handmade lunch for uni.” 

“But you are a goddess,” you pouted, making her laugh slightly. 

“Let us show you again.” Hiro lifted his face, hands cupping your face to wipe your tears away, softly kissing you. “Please let us show you.” 

“Look at yourself, Y/N. You’re beautiful. You’re everything we could ever want in a girlfriend.” They had stripped you bare and sat you on the bed, facing the big mirror on the closet doors. Shimizu was kneeling on the floor between your spread legs, softly kissing the inside of your thighs, smiling at you through the mirror. “Caring for you, making you come, seeing how you’re desperate to please us, and follow our command, it makes us happy. There’s nothing I would want to do more.” To confirm his words Hiro took your hand to rub it over his hard length without allowing you to grab it. “And seeing you cry was horrifying, to be honest.” Immediately you felt bad at Shimizu’s words. Your puffy red eyes were still a constant reminder of that, practically mocking you in the mirror. “So let’s make you cry because of a different reason.” You couldn’t even try to think about what she meant when she dove right in, lapping at your pussy with long strokes of her tongue, nibbling on your lips every now and then. 

You moaned in pleasure, closing your eyes and leaning back against Hiro to really relish in the feelings. “Keep your eyes open, baby. Look at us pleasuring you. Look at us enjoying it.” 

You opened your eyes again and they immediately fell on Shimizu’s face. She was looking up at you from your cunt and you could see so much adoration in her eyes you already felt tears of shame prickling in yours at the memory that you had ever doubted them. 

“Babe.” Shimizu got alerted through Hiro’s call and you also looked in the mirror to see what he was doing behind you, moaning when you caught sight of the double-ended dildo you had often used with your girlfriend, sometimes with Hiro joining in, sometimes with him only watching, sometimes with him only being able to enjoy the aftermaths when he was coming home to you two being completely wrecked, the dildo lying forgotten on the floor. 

“You want us both today?” Shimizu licking her lips after departing from your pussy made you moan again and you nodded wildly only for her to dive right back in, this time lowering herself quite a bit. Hiro adjusted your position, spreading your legs further and making you slide farther towards the edge of the bed so Shimizu could continue prodding at your asshole with her tongue. “I can’t wait, please, finger and lube.” Hiro laughed. “Help her, then.” 

Shimizu detached herself again, moving to the side a bit so you could have the full vision of yourself in the mirror, your own fingers toying with the tight muscle, slightly pushing in even without lube. “Don’t be greedy, baby.” Hiro took it upon himself to take the clear gel and let it drizzle over your fingers, generously coating them. Taking the finger was much easier now and in a matter of minutes, you had two of them in, your arousal only heightening when having eye contact with your partners through the mirror. 

It was unusual for them to be this quiet, normally endless praises would be falling out of their mouths. “I’m ready! Please!” You hadn’t prepared yourself as thorough as usual and by a cock of his eyebrows you realized that Hiro knew that, but he didn’t say anything when he heaved you onto his arms, hovering you over his erect dick. 

“Fuck, I love your ass.” He was nearly halfway in and you felt more stretched than you ever had all the other times you had taken him like this. Your thighs twitched and you slipped even further down, when Shimizu pushed one of her slender fingers into your dripping cunt, wiggling it around slightly. “Don’t be impatient, Mizu. We have time. Look at our princess. She’s dripping.” You moaned at his praise and thanked every god that Shimizu didn’t interpret Hiro’s words as a command to pull her finger back out. “She’s gorgeous. Looking so pretty with her ass filled.” She pressed more kisses on your thighs, only stopping when red bites and bruises were littered across them. 

Hiro slowly pushed the last inches in, letting out a guttural moan when he was finally fully buried within you. Shimizu took that as her cue to start moving her finger, adding a second and third one after a couple of seconds before finally taking the dildo into her hand, holding it up to your mouth. “Don’t just lick. Take it in.” You complied, taking as much of the double-sided dildo into your mouth as possible. “Hold.” She let go from the other side, moving out of the way for you to have a full view of yourself in the mirror again. 

“Look at you. Maybe I should just fuck myself on your mouth, leaving your little cunt empty. Would you like that?” You tried shaking your head without letting the dildo falling out of your mouth. Your pussy was aching to be filled. Tears were already forming in your eyes from the constant strain on your throat, but the proud smile on Hiro’s face only showed you that this was exactly what they wanted to do. Make you cry out of pleasure. 

With one hard tug, Shimizu pulled the dildo out of your mouth, not caring about the trail of spit that fell down your face and chest. The power with which she shoved it into your cunt made the first tears escape your eyes as you yelped in pleasure. “Fuck, yes, please, Mizu, more!” She looked happy with her accomplishment and then she sank down onto your cock, taking the other side of the dildo deep into her mouth until her nose touched your clit, nuzzling it a bit just to toy with you, shaking the dildo doing so and making you shake out of pleasure at the same time. 

She didn’t repeat that maneuver often, the small drops on the floor already evidence enough that she was equally as impatient as you were. 

“Look at yourself. Look how two people are fucking you at the same time.” It was hard to see anything clearly as soon as Shimizu sank down onto the other side of the dildo and both of them began to move, Hiro gripping the middle of the dildo to make it thrust in and out of both of you in an equal pace. “Still think you’re not loved?” 

“No, no! I am loved, I love you, both of you, so much. I’m so sorry I thought otherwise. I love you, I love you!” You couldn’t chant anything else, the pleasure being overwhelming, tears streaming down your face even though you were not sure if that was out of happiness or pleasure. “I- I love you too, baby.” Shimizu’s movements got even faster and she kissed you with all of her heart, shoving every ounce of love in there. 

“Fuck, baby, I’m going to come. Your sweet ass is making me come. I love you so much, baby, shit.” Hiro’s thrusts became harsher, making you snap up into Shimizu, all three of you groaning and moaning while desperately trying to hold on to each other. 

As announced, Hiro came first, filling your ass with his cum, stilling afterwards but still slightly thrusting the dildo between you and Shimizu. 

You didn’t know who of you came first, just that both your movements suddenly stilled, clasped in absolute pleasure, connected at your most intimate parts. 

“Look at you. Does that look like someone who isn’t loved?” You tiredly raised your head, drinking in the picture before you on the foggy mirror. 

It didn’t. Hickey’s were littered across your thighs, Hiro’s come was slightly dribbling out of your asshole and onto his only half-hard dick, Shimizu was covering your top half with her’s, the dildo lying on the floor forgotten, both of your holes still twitching, wetness coating your cunts and thighs. It didn’t look like anyone of you was not loved at all. 

“Thank you.” Your throat was dry from moaning too much and you swallowed a couple of times before continuing. “I’m sorry again for doubting you. I know you love me a lot. I always know.” You kissed both of them and shot them a smile, hoping that they were going to forgive you. 

“Stop apologizing. Everybody has those days from time to time. The most important thing is that you know now again.” Shimizu was nearly sleeping but you couldn’t blame her, the post crying and post-sex exhaustion catching up to you. 

Not much later you were all cuddled up on fresh sheets after taking a short bath to clean yourself from all the sweat, cum, and lube. 

“I love you, Hiro. I love you, Shimizu,” you mumbled contently smiling at their similar answers. Maybe this really was paradise. You may not deserve it, but you certainly weren’t complaining. 

[ev-pierce-writes]

Bolero

Javier PenaxReader pairing

Rating: Explicit (duh)

7.4 K

What starts as just a job as an informant quickly turns into an attraction to Agent Javier Peña.

Essentially what I think it's like to dance with Javi. Plus having sex.

If you want to listen to the song I picture them dancing to it's called Dos Gardenias by Buena Vista Social Club. I know it didn't come out until the 90s but I really don't care.

___

You didn't like this part of the job. Hated it, actually. Your feet hurt in your heels and the humidity was making you sweat. But tips were tips, even if it involved fake flirting with old men.

The music ended and José spun you into a dip as the small crowd clapped. José was an excellent dancer and he made for a good partner when it came time to actually perform for the guests, rather than try to drag them onto the dance floor. Most people assumed you were a couple you danced so in sync, but it wasn't like that.

He was a good friend though. He'd gotten you the job at the bistro, and for the small pain of three choreographed dances a night plus a few private salsas, you were paid handsomely. Of course, this wasn't your dream, performing in a smoky, humid bar for tourists and old handsy men. You would rather be on the stage as a professional, performing only for the people who could afford a ticket, not just a watered-down tequila. But work was work and money was money.

Now your least favorite part. You leaned an elbow on the bar, sweeping the crowd for whatever gringo looked the least gross. The manager insisted you interacted with the customers, reeling them in with a sexy pose and a few awkward steps on the dance floor. They tended to drink more when you did that, which was good for the bar, and you usually ended up with a couple of extra bills in your hand, which was good for you. So you complied.

An older, slightly less creepy-looking gentleman had caught your eye, and you were about to approach when you felt a gentle hand on your elbow.

"Mind teaching me a few of those steps you just did?" The music was starting up again with a bolero, your cue to find the dance floor, so you figured you'd comply with the request. Except when you looked into the face of the stranger who had spoken those words, you were taken aback. He was young, or at least younger than most of the men in here, and taller too. Shining from his tanned face were chocolatey brown eyes, surprisingly sincere and kind. His dark hair was combed into place, though a few stray curls peeked out from behind his ears and at the base of his neck.

"Sí, señor." The Spanish came out as a force of habit, though he had addressed you in English and a perfect American accent. Men liked it when you spoke Spanish, even if they couldn't understand. It gave them the impression that you were exotic. But the man half expected that from you. He'd been watching you most of the night, analyzing the way you moved, the way you beguiled the guests into a dance and then a drink, the way you controlled a man's mood with the flick of your hips and slide of your hand up his arm. The perfect skill set of a secret plant.

Without any hesitation, the man took your hand in his and led you into the crowd of dancing people. He placed his other on your hip, though he left a respectful distance between the two of you. It was uncharacteristic of the guests to do so; they generally felt they had some right to press up against you as they stumbled around.

But this man was different. He already knew the three-quarter timing. He seemed a bit tense, like he was having trouble letting loose, but he wasn't clumsy at all. "I don't think you need my instruction," you said.

The man smiled, his mustache curling up to reveal a single dimple on his smooth cheek.

"No, hermana, I don't."

Maybe there was some Latino in that tan after all. But his reply caught you off guard. You hoped pulling you onto the dance floor wasn't his attempt at flirting. You'd made a pact with yourself to never sleep with the guests, and so far you'd held true.

But he wasn't flirting, though he desperately wanted to. You were exactly the type of girl he'd pick up on a boring night, or pay to have sex with him and share your secrets. But tonight was strictly business.

"Do you work here every night?" he asked. It was a strangely specific question, though maybe he was hoping to see you again, you thought.

"Only Thursday, Friday, Saturday," you replied. The bistro only ever needed you on the busiest nights of the week, which was fine with you. Three days of work made you plenty of money, and then you had the rest of the week off. "Why? Are you already planning a second dance?"

The man ignored his question to ask another of his own. "Do you make a lot of money?"

His questions were starting to sound a bit bizarre and he wasn't answering yours either. Why did he care what you made?

"Unless you're planning on hiring me and paying me more, I don't see why you need to know." It wasn't good to be snappy with paying customers, but this enigma of a man didn't seem like the average customer to you. And instead of getting defensive at your tone, his mood shifted quickly and he laughed. A deep, throaty laugh, just as gravely and melodious as his voice. He liked your confidence and your attitude. But then he was back to business just as quickly.

The man led you towards the back of the dance floor, away from the crowd and the watchful eye of the bartender, a move that made you worry and caused you to doubt his intentions. His eyes had gone serious, a wrinkle of concentration between his eyebrows and crowding out the kindness.

"Actually, I would like to hire you."

You came to a stop in surprise but the man pulled you forward, urging you to continue dancing so as not to draw attention to the pair of you. He drew you closer so he could speak directly into your ear, forcing you to breathe in his scent with the proximity, cologne and cigarettes and the saltiness of a light sweat.

"You have a club or something?"

He didn't answer your question, just asked more of his own. "Do you know runs this place?"

You shrugged. "I think his name is Manuel, but I've only met him once."

"Keep an eye out for him, will you? See when he comes and goes, if he gets any shipments or deliveries. I'll pay you for providing information."

It was your turn to finally get some answers. "Who are you?"

"My name is Javier Peña." Javier spun you out before pulling you back into his chest.

"Well, Señor Peña, I don't know who you think I am, but I am not a spy and I don't give a damn about what my employer does. So why do you care what he does?"

"Let's just say the government has a special interest in your employer. But we'd like to keep this little piece of knowledge under wraps."

You eyed Javier suspiciously. Why would the government be interested in what your boss did with his bistro? And why would this man, Javier Peña, trust you to deliver secrets? But again, money was money. Little did you know, Javier Peña was aware of your lack of loyalty to anyone, as long as they were paying you, and he gambled on this fact to ease you into a deal.

"How much are you offering?"

"I'll double whatever you make now."

Double? Mierda. "Bueno, double it is. Not sure what you expect me to find, but I'll keep my eyes open."

That full smile returned, white teeth and all. "Un secreto, sí?"

You nodded in return as the song came to an end. Letting go of your waist, Javier pulled a pair of aviators from the deep vee of his shirt and slipped them on before handing you a business card from the back pocket of his jeans. He instructed you to call him if you saw anything, anything at all. Javier gave you a salute and turned to leave, though not before asking you one more question.

"And your name?"

Now is when you usually lied, telling whatever slimeball you'd just swayed into oblivion a made-up name, like Rosa or Maria. But something about this time was different. This time, you gave him your real name.

"Adiós, bailarina," he said with a grin.

"Adiós, Señor Peña." It wasn't until you were home that you noticed he'd slipped a small stack of bills into your pocket.

---

Standing in the living room of your apartment, you held the card Javier had given you almost a week ago. You hadn't been exactly sure what he was asking you to look out for. You rarely saw your boss anyway. But then tonight, as you'd arrived at work, a truck had been parked by the employee entrance of the bistro. Manuel was still nowhere to be found, but stacks upon stacks of boxes were being unloaded into the dry storage of the kitchen. And you had taken note of it all.

Finally, you picked up the phone off its cradle and dialed the number on the card, wrapping the thick cord around your fingers as it rang. A moment of silence, and then a deep voice spoke on the other end of the line.

"Javier Peña speaking." It sounded like he had just woken up, his voice softer than you remembered and groggy as well. It was a bit late, after midnight, but you figured this was something he wanted to hear sooner rather than later.

"Hola, Senior Peña, it's me from the bistro." Another silence, some shuffling, and was that a voice in the background? "Did I wake you?"

"No, not at all. What's up?"

"You wanted to know if Manuel had a shipment, right?"

"Yes, yes, what did you see?"

"Hm, I could tell you. Or I could get my mi dinero first."

Javier sighed on the other end. "Right, of course. How much do I owe you?"

"Let's see, including tips, I made 300 this week."

"Fine, 300 pesos it is. Where can I meet you?"

"You want to meet right now?"

Apparently, he did. You gave him the address to a twenty-four-hour diner you liked and he hung up, saying he'd meet you there. You gathered your purse, double-checking that the small handgun you carried for self-defense was still there. Not that you were worried the mysterious Javier Peña was someone to be scared of. But better safe than sorry.

Ten minutes later, you stepped out into the heat of the summer air. The darkness of night did little to reduce the temperature, but the humidity had dissipated enough that you rolled the windows of the car down and blasted your music into the silent night.

Though you were sure you looked a bit frazzled and worn out when you parked, Javier only noticed the flush on your cheeks and the curl of your windswept hair as he watched you step out of the car through the window of the diner. You hadn't bothered to change out of your dress and heels from work, which left little to the imagination in the way of your long legs and curved waist. When he'd first approached you last week, he'd been polite and reserved, only letting his hands fall where they were meant to in a dance. But tonight, the ruching of your dress at your hips called out to be touched. Javier knew it was all part of your job, but part of him wished you'd dressed up like that just for him. He shook his head. He shouldn't be thinking about you like this.

A little bell jingled over the door as you drifted into the warm restaurant.

Javier steadied his hands and composed his face, not wanting to reveal the true thoughts running through his mind as you plopped into the booth seat across from him. He looked ready to get down to business, but you were hungry and held up a hand to silence him before he could begin to speak. The waitress came and took your order, a burger and fries, before turning to Javier. He relented to whatever game you were playing and ordered as well in perfect Spanish.

"Where are you from?" you asked as the waitress left to place your orders.

"This little meeting isn't about me," Javier replied, sounding a bit preoccupied, distracted even. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing the smooth skin of his neck and chest, as if he'd dressed in a hurry.

"Eh, that's not very polite. Did I interrupt a little midnight date with your amorcita?" You were pretty sure that had been a woman's voice in the background when you called him earlier. His response, or lack thereof, told you everything you needed to know. Emboldened by his reaction, you continued on with your one-sided conversation.

"I love American food. Are burgers better in Texas? That is where you're from, no?"

The look of shock that flitted across Javier's face was enough to satisfy you and you leaned back in your seat with a smile. You tried your best not to show how pleased you were with his reaction, but your comment got you thinking about what he was like in bed. That was not a direction you needed your mind to wander, especially when it caused butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

"Okay, detective, I think that's enough. You want your money or not?" Though he acted annoyed, Javier was secretly impressed. What had given it away? His accent maybe?

"Sí, sí. Although I am a bit interested to know where my money is coming from."

"I told you. The government."

"You haven't really proven that to me though. Besides, what if you're trying to put my boss out of business? Then I'm out of a job. A good-paying job."

"I am trying to put your boss out of business." The withering look you gave Javier didn't put him off, though you wished it did. If looks could kill and all that. But it did provoke him to pull something from his back pocket and hold it up to your face. "DEA. You know what that is right?"

"Mierda, was it drugs in those boxes?" You couldn't help the shock that spread across your face.

"Maybe."

You pulled a notepad from your purse as the waitress returned with your food. In between bites, you read off of the notes you'd taken.

"I got to work at 4:30. The truck was already there. Manuel was not. Some men unloaded the boxes into the kitchen."

"How many."

"I don't know."

Javier raised his eyebrows. If he'd learned anything from this conversation it was that you were an observant person. He doubted that you hadn't bothered to count them. He had only to wait for you to continue on your own.

"Bueno, forty or so. This big," you indicated with your hands, about the size of the box the tomatoes came in.

"And it wasn't just food in there? You're sure it was something different than normal?"

"Come on, don't you trust me?"

"No," was his swift reply, though it was said with a smile.

"Alright, then. I looked in one. Not food, for sure."

Javier nodded in understanding and pulled a billfold from his back pocket, ready to hand over your cash.

"Espere, Señor, you think that's all I've got?" you said teasingly as you finished your fries and sucked the grease from your fingertips. "You really have no faith, dios mío."

Javier watched you intently, scrutinizing the way your tongue licked away the grease from your thumb. He took a deep breath that sounded like exasperation to you but was really meant to release an uncomfortable knot building in his stomach as he tried not to imagine what else your tongue could do.

"At 5:30, a woman named Victoria called looking for Manuel. No one answered the phone so I did. She left this message." You read directly from the notepad. "I like chocolate ice cream better than vanilla. Maybe you can take me to la heladería tomorrow."

"You're joking."

"Not at all. She said that," you said defensively. "Even gave me an address."

You ripped the paper from your notebook at handed it to Javier as he rubbed a hand along his strong jaw.

"So what are you going to do? Maybe a stakeout, arrest some people, wave your armas around?"

Javier rolled his eyes. "The DEA isn't all about stakeouts and guns. But no, we aren't going to do anything yet. There's no need to reveal our plant. And we don't want you to end up dead so don't get caught either."

"How reassuring. I'm glad the United States has me in their best interests," you deadpanned.

"Just keep doing what you're doing."

"Oh, so you want to see me again? Next time you can buy me a drink."

"Don't flatter yourself."

You laughed in response. Sure, this was all about money, but it was nice to have a real conversation with someone who was witty enough to keep up with your banter. But he was still too easy to tease and you took advantage of it. You liked the way his eyes narrowed and his brows creased when you got under his skin.

"You know, I'll just take it as a compliment that you're only paying me for information and not sex as well," you said as you stood, placing a couple of bills onto the table as a tip.

Javier groaned in frustration. Talking to you was like walking through a hailstorm of bullets. He was bound to get grazed no matter how careful he was. "Eh, mujer, give me a break, por favor."

And yet, despite his protests, Javier liked your sharp tongue. It intrigued him. Normally, he didn't care much about who his informants were or where they were from. But Javier was curious about you. You were smart, skilled, and good at influencing people to comply with your desires. And yet you spent your weekends on a sticky dance floor, performing for gringos like him.

The glittering smile you gave him as you left him sitting in the booth lit a small flame in his heart.

"Buenas noches, Señor Peña," you said to him as you left, almost out the door before he called your name. You turned back. "Qué pasa?"

"Javi. Just call me Javi."

---

Several weeks went by like this, with you calling Javier late at night to let him know what you'd seen. The check-ins came every Saturday, as the shipments had been consistent and seemed to run on a schedule. Eventually, you got comfortable enough to let Javier come to your apartment and exchange information for cash on your couch. You had no idea, but Javier was beginning to expect your calls, anticipating the ringing of his phone around midnight and hearing your voice on the other end.

But when you didn't check in one week, he began to worry. It was past one in the morning. Surely you would have called by now. Maybe he had missed it? There was no way; he'd sat next to the phone all night. So Javier did something he never did. He called you instead. When you didn't answer, he started to suspect something was wrong. Javier told himself to calm down, that you had probably just forgotten, or that maybe nothing of note had happened this week, or you were already asleep. But he couldn't get it out of his mind that something had gone wrong, that you'd been found out and someone had hurt you.

It was nearly two when you finally got home. For some reason, the Saturday crowd had been extra lively tonight, keeping you much later than you wanted. As soon as you unlocked the door and stepped into your apartment, you pulled off your heels and unzipped your dress, peeling it from your sticky body right there in the living room. You needed a shower and you needed to call Javier, but all you wanted was sleep. It could wait until morning.

At last, you were ready for bed, windows pushed open to let in a breeze, sheets turned down, and in nothing but your dressing gown, when a knock sounded at your door. Who would be up at this time of night and disturbing your peace?

Looking through the peephole, you were shocked to find the last person on earth you expected to be standing in the hallway of your apartment building.

"Javi?" you said in confusion as you opened the door. He was leaning against the door frame, one hand on his hip, as if trying to look relaxed but totally failing at it. On Javier's face were written lines of worry, but they relaxed at the sight of you. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh, good, you're home. I was worried."

Maybe it was the exhaustion fogging your brain, but he sounded genuinely distressed. The normally confident, almost arrogant Javier had been replaced with someone entirely different. "Sí, of course I'm home, where else would I be?"

"Well, you didn't call. And then you didn't answer your phone. So I was worried something had happened." Javier had managed to miss the state of your dress, or lack thereof, when you had first opened the door. But now, he noticed you wore a cream-colored dressing gown and little else. One sleeve had slipped off your shoulder in your hurry to dress, revealing the lack of anything beneath.

Javier's breath hitched in his throat as he desperately tried to tear his eyes away from your shoulder. It was a just shoulder, for god's sake. It's not like you were standing naked in front of him. But then he was thinking about you naked and that was an even bigger problem.

For a whole month, Javier had gone without a woman in his bed and it wasn't until he saw you that he realized why. He wanted you, but in a way that was different from the way he wanted anyone else. He didn't want you for information or even a quick release, but something more intimate and intense. What was wrong with him? He had to leave before he said something he might regret. You were an informant, a contact, a player in this long game of chess, and nothing more.

"I'm gonna go," Javier said, finally looking away. He was acting strange, even your tired eyes could tell. He looked disheveled, the buttons of his salmon pink shirt left open at the top and half-tucked into his jeans. His hair was no longer combed flat, the way it usually was when you saw him. Instead, it stuck up in all manner of directions, curly and unruly. Javier rubbed the back of his head as he turned to go. You weren't sure what exactly compelled you, but you called out to him before he could leave.

"Do you want a drink?" So much for sleep.

Javier had been in your apartment plenty of times. So why did he suddenly not know what to do with himself? He stood stiffly in the living room, eyeing the discarded dress you hadn't picked up yet. When you handed him a glass of whiskey he barely noticed. His mind was clearly not in the apartment, though his body was. Finally, he sat on the couch, leaning his elbows on his knees, the glass balanced precariously in one hand.

Javier's thoughts drifted from one place to another, relief that you were fine, embarrassment for having thought that you weren't, bliss at your invitation inside, and then shame for having accepted.

"Do you mind if I smoke?" he asked.

"Only if you share," you replied, sitting next to him on the couch with your own drink. The pair of you sat like that for a while, in complete silence, passing a single cigarette back and forth. Javier had no way of knowing but your thoughts followed a similar path to his, a rollercoaster masked by a sense of calm.

Your fingertips lightly grazed his as Javier passed you the cigarette. He watched you take a long draw, pulling the smoke deep into your lungs and letting it numb the strange feeling inside you. You were hyper-aware of Javier's presence beside you, his shoulder and knee barely grazing yours, even though you stared straight ahead at the clock on the wall. Three in the morning, it read. Perhaps it was something about the early morning hours, or the dim light of your living room, the only source from the kitchen, but the next words out of your mouth were the most sincere you'd ever spoken to him.

"Are you alright, Javi?"

"Sí."

"You don't seem alright." His voice was too calm. "Is it work?"

"No."

"Friends? Family?"

"No."

You paused, pretending to contemplate for a moment.

"Ah, I know. No pretty girls to warm your bed?" You couldn't help it, falling back into teasing him like that. But he didn't want to talk and it was the only way to draw him out.

"It's disturbing how observant you are," Javier said. It wasn't a true answer, but it was answer enough. He sighed and put the cigarette out before placing his head in his hands. "We aren't friends, you know."

It was a strange comment, almost like he was trying to convince himself of the fact, not you.

"Wow. I should be offended. But for your sake, I'll pretend like I'm not."

"That's not what I mean," Javier tried to explain. "I mean-- I mean I shouldn't be doing this." He waved his hand around as if it indicated anything about what 'this' was. But you understood. He shouldn't be accepting drinks after midnight and sharing cigarettes in dimly lit apartments. It was unprofessional. Then again, everything about your relationship was unprofessional, even the work only parts.

It had taken you a while to admit to yourself that you were attracted to Javier. But when you actually started to look forward to Saturday night, to your conversations, even though they revolved around your work, that's when you knew. It was something in the way he looked when he was listening to you, his eyes holding contact with yours, eyebrows furrowed, hand on his chin, that made you think maybe he felt the same way. His hands, what was it about them? They were big and strong and you hadn't yet forgotten the way they had held onto your waist as you danced the night you met.

Dance. You knew how to communicate with that. It was second nature. Perhaps it would let you both open up. So you stood and moved to the record player. The space wasn't big enough to truly dance, but you kept plenty of records on hand to practice new choreography alone. You pulled out your favorite, a gift from José, and carefully placed down the needle.

"The bolero is danced in 3/4 time," you said, holding out your hand to Javier. "But I think you knew that already."

Javier seemed to understand and only hesitated a moment. The music swelled and he took your hand in one of his, the other finding its place on your back between your shoulder blades. There wasn't much space to move, but he led you through the steps anyway. Rock forward, step right, rock back, step left. Repeat. Tonight, Javier held you close, your hips and chests pressed against one another in a way that was much different from the first time you'd danced. He was more relaxed as well, allowing his hips to move in time with yours. Javier leaned his cheek against yours.

When you'd invited him in for a drink, Javier hadn't been sure what your intentions were. He still wasn't, though something in the way you let his fingertips glide up and down your spine as you danced gave him an idea.

And yet, he couldn't read you at all, though it seemed he could have no secrets around you. You had picked up instantly on his strange mood and though he hated to admit it, he liked the way you were persistent in trying to draw him out from his shell. He found you alluring. You were beautiful, yes, and he imagined as he fell asleep at night what you might look like under your tight dresses and this deliciously thin robe. But he also liked you, liked talking to you, liked being around you, liked your incesant teasing.

The song ended and the next one started up again, but neither of you moved away. Somehow so starved for physical contact, you were drunk on one another's touch, swaying gently in the dark. "We shouldn't--" Javier tried to speak but you interrupted him.

"Stop with the should or should not, Javi. It's too late for that."

"Why did you invite me in?" Javier figured it was worth asking, just to be sure.

"Why did you show up at my apartment, uninvited, in the middle of the night?"

"Fuck," Javier cursed under his breath. "I'm tired of this. Your half-answers, my unanswered questions, dancing, literally dancing, around whatever truth there is between us. I just want to know what you're thinking and it's impossible to tell."

You were taken aback. You had been so preoccupied deciphering Javier for yourself you'd forgotten he was probably trying to do the same with you. The look in his eyes was desperate, needy, and untamed.

The sensible thing to do would be to kick him out, to end it here because this wasn't right. It wasn't professional. And it was breaking your biggest rule: never sleep with the customer. But you were anything but sensible with a drink swirling around your veins.

You pushed Javier away gently, and he looked slightly crestfallen before he saw what you did next. The drink may have given you a boost of confidence, but this desire was all your own. With a gentle tug at the tie of your robe, you let it fall from your shoulders, the silk pooling at your feet as you stood bare before him. Javier was frozen in place, but then his eyes widened in surprise before raking up and down your body unabashedly.

"Well, I guess that's some type of answer," he whispered. The clock ticked on the wall, counting down the moments.

"Your move, Javi." Your words stoked the flame in his heart that you'd lit so many weeks ago. But his brain struggled to keep up, still in shock at the sudden sight of you naked for him and him alone. He wanted to take in every inch of you and ravish you all at the same time.

Javier reached out a hand, hesitating slightly as if unsure if you were real or just a golden vision before him. In the dim light from the kitchen, you seemed to glow, wild hair swept behind your shoulders, chest rising and falling with anticipation. Finally, Javier's fingers made contact with your skin, the back of his knuckles gently grazing the plane of your stomach. You trembled when he finally offered you his touch, goosebumps following the path of his hand as he moved up your body toward the curve of your breast. His thumb brushed across your nipple, causing you to gasp and nearly jump out of your skin. But his hand didn't linger, instead tracing the lines of your sternum to your collarbone and up your neck.

Javier's hand found its place on your cheek, his thumb sweeping across the ridge of your cheekbone. You closed your eyes softly, relishing in the sensation of his skin on yours. His hand was calloused but surprisingly smooth, as if worn by years of the same work. You turned your face toward his hand, pressing your lips to his palm.

You kept your eyes closed, expecting him to kiss you, your lips burning with apprehension. But the kiss didn't come, only the soft sounds of him moving and his hand leaving your face. You opened your eyes, worried he'd changed his mind and was leaving you there vulnerable to the world.

Instead, you found him kneeled before you, like a subject before his queen.

A shiver had run down Javier's spine when you'd kissed his palm as he pictured placing his own lips to yours. But something about the way you looked in that moment, ethereal, celestial, divine, forced him to his knees in worship. He wanted to taste every inch of you, learn every curve and crevasse of your body. You were just as beautiful--no, even more beautiful--than he'd imagined alone in his bed at night. And here you were, offering up that smooth skin, those thighs, those lips. And he would fucking worship you.

One hand found your waist, gripping gently but firmly to hold you in place. The other pulled a knee over his shoulder, causing you to stumble forward and forcing you to grab onto Javier for stability. But his hands held you firmly as his fingers sunk into the flesh of your ass, pulling you closer to his face, mouth sinking into you fluttering lips.

You gasped, fingers tangling into Javier's unruly hair and holding on tight, the sensation of his tongue against your clit making your legs go weak. A groan came from between your thighs, sending vibrations through your core and twisting your stomach into knots.

"Fuck, just like I imagined," Javier mumbled under his breath.

Like he'd imagined?

"You've pictured this?" you managed to ask between breaths. You could barely speak, the moans tumbling from your mouth leaving little oxygen in your lungs for anything else.

"Amor, you send me to sleep at night and wake me up in the morning."

Oh mierda, his tongue was continuing to swirl around your clit, leaving you unable to control your thoughts or your movements. Your hips shifted of their own accord, grinding against Javier's face as he ate you out. At some point, he would need to come up for air, but for now, he was perfectly content to suffocate between your captivating legs, drinking in your scent and swallowing the taste of you.

Javier was guiding you languidly toward your climax, savoring every shudder and twitch he pulled from you. The muscles of your pelvic floor seized and you let out a delirious moan. The tension that preceded your orgasm curled up through your stomach and into your lungs, drawing the strength from your limbs. Suddenly unable to hold up your upper half, let alone stabilize your legs, you slumped forward, chin hanging heavily against your chest, hands sliding down Javier's back and gripping the fabric of his shirt.

"Javi, please, I can't hold on." You needed to sit, lay down, anything, before you collapsed in ecstasy here in the living room. At your words, Javier picked up the pace, taking you from a gradual climb to a swift ascent. His acceleration told you everything you needed to know. Come for him, and he'd take you to the bedroom.

So you did, your orgasm shuddering through you at a staggering pace. It rushed through you, searing and urgent, and something told you this was only the beginning. A warm-up of sorts, leaving you unable to stand yet shivering for more. The last waves of your orgasm spread through you, Javier drinking them from you until your trembling subsided and your breathing came back to normal. He caught you as you eased back into your body, picking you up by the waist and slinging you over his shoulder. You giggled at the sudden change of perspective, now hanging upside down with an excellent view of Javier's ass.

"What are you doing?"

Javier didn't answer.

With a flop, you landed on the bed on your back. Javier stood over you, taking in the sight of you. Little did he know, you were doing the same, even though he was still fully clothed. You sat up on the edge of the bed and tugged at his shirt, pulling it from his tight jeans. Javier undid the buttons, letting out a soft groan as you took advantage of his proximity to palm the bulge in his pants. You wanted a taste.

His shirt now discarded, you worked at the button of Javier's jeans, placing a soft kiss on his stomach as you tugged them down. No underwear, why weren't you surprised? Javier's fingers curled into your hair, taking hold with a gentle yet solid grip as you freed his cock from confinement, precum leaking from the swollen head.

You looked up through your eyelashes, wanting to watch Javier's face as you swiped your tongue across the tip of his length, savoring the taste and earning a strangled moan from Javier's mouth. His eyes sunk shut and the image of you in the diner, licking the grease from your fingers danced behind his eyelids. He realized he was about to have that fantasy fulfilled, about to know exactly what your tongue could do.

The expression on Javier's face and his tightening hands in your hair made your stomach flutter. The absolute control you held over this man was ten times more satisfying than manipulating those men in the bistro because you were enjoying this too. Lightly, you dragged your tongue up his quivering cock, causing Javier to buck his hips and let out a hiss of dissatisfaction.

"Mierda, princesa, you gonna take me or just make me beg for it all night."

"You know I like to tease you, Javi." But the time for teasing was over. With one hand wrapped around him, you took him into your mouth, lowering your head as far as your gag reflex would let you. You began to move slowly, Javier's hands still in your hair and guiding your movements. Your other hand reached up and fondled his balls, pinching and massaging the tender skin. The sensation sent Javier hurtling toward the edge and he began to thrust into your mouth, matching your pace. It was good, too good. He was going to cum soon if you kept going.

Suddenly, Javier pulled away with a grunt, panting your name.

"Fuck, princesa, you're gonna finish me off fast like that." His voice was ragged with hunger. He wanted to taste you again, feel himself inside you as you came. "I'm not done with you yet."

Javier untangled his hands from your hair and placed them tenderly on your shoulders before pushing you back onto the bed again. He grabbed your ankles and hooked them over his shoulders, giving him full access to your cunt which was aching in anticipation of his cock, the size of which you had just fucked with your mouth.

You could feel the heat of him, so close, but Javier took his time, kissing his way down your thighs, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin until your legs shook. And still, he didn't slip inside you, instead caressing the tenderness of your stomach with his mouth. He'd kissed all the way up your body, from the jut of your hip bones to the freckle below your bellybutton to the supple fullness of your breasts. Javier's attentions left you squirming under his touch, but he wasn't done. He wanted to taste every inch of your exposed skin, both salty and sweet under his tongue.

Suddenly, Javier's touch left your body and he flipped you over. You squealed at the abrupt movement, your face in the pillows and hands gripping the sheets. Behind you came the sound of a condom opening. And then you could feel Javier hovering above you, his cock teasing your entrance, one hand on your hip and the other in your hair. And then his voice spoke next to your ear.

"Are you ready, princesa?" Javier asked, his voice heady and ragged.

"Fuck me, Javi." That was all the invitation he needed. Without a moment's hesitation, Javier lined himself up with your entrance and slammed into you. Your gasp of surprise, and all the screams that followed, dissipated into the pillows, muting the sounds that you knew would have been heard by the neighbors otherwise.

Javier crashed into you again, stretching and filling you more with each thrust. He started slow, savoring the feeling of your walls clenching around him. The hand in your hair pulled your head back, releasing the sounds trapped in the pillow to mingle with Javier's moans. The hand at your waist wrapped around to find your clit, his calloused fingers teasing the delicate bud, and Javier leaned over to run his tongue up your spine, chasing the shivers he was causing.

The combination of sensations, his tongue on your skin, fingers on your clit, cock buried deep in your pussy, built you again toward orgasm. You rose up onto all fours, trying to find that angle you knew would hit your g-spot, and Javier seemed to understand. He began to thrust harder and faster, rushing toward the edge he had narrowly avoiding sailing over when his dick had been in your mouth. But this was better, so much better. Javier's untangled his hand from your hair and wrapped his arm around your chest, lifting you so you were on your knees and pressed flush against his back.

This was it, the perfect angle. A tumble of incoherent Spanish curses flew from your mouth as Javier reached up to squeeze your tit in his large hand.

"Fuck, Javi, right there," you mumbled in between breaths. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

"Cum for me, princesa," Javier growled into your ear. "I won't cum until you do."

Javier's tongue flicked along your neck and up toward your ear, where he nibbled lightly. He thrust, deep and strong, into your trembling pussy and you came, in a searing white light of ecstasy. You choked out your sounds of pleasure, unable to breathe properly. As your walls clenched around his cock, your orgasm rushing in waves against him, Javier could hold it no longer. With a groan, he fell apart, grunting your name over and over as his twitching member spasmed inside you.

The two of you held still for a moment, unwilling and unable to move. Finally, Javier slipped out of you, leaving you feeling cold and empty. It didn't last long, however. Javier laid on the bed and pulled you down with him, holding you close to his chest. You curled against him, relishing in the warmth of his skin against the cool breeze drifting in through the open window.

"I have to admit, this isn't how I thought my night would end," Javier said. You giggled, still high on the euphoria of your second orgasm. The dopamine that clouded your brain began to clear and you looked into Javier's face, the tension and worry absent and replaced with a languid look of satisfaction and pleasure.

And then you realized something that made you sit straight up in bed. "You bastard," you said accusingly, pointing a finger at Javier's chest. He dragged a hand across his face.

"Oh mierda, what did I do now?"

"You never even kissed me."

It was true. He hadn't. He'd been so preoccupied with tasting the rest of you he'd failed to do the one thing he actually desired most.

"Alright, that's a valid accusation," Javier said, dragging you back down and rolling on top of you, pinning you to the bed. "I am a bastard, a lucky one."

Finally, with one hand on your face and the other lacing his fingers in yours, Javier kissed you. A real, proper kiss, teeth scraping your bottom lip and tongue gliding along yours. He kissed you until he could hold his breath no longer and then came back for more, tasting of your orgasm and the shared cigarette. At last, he pulled away and buried his face in your neck.

You pulled the covers up and over the two of you. And then you wrapped your arms and legs around him, holding him to your chest as tightly as you could.

"Have any plans for tomorrow?" you asked.

Javier grinned into your shoulder. "Ready for round two already?"

"Only if we get to sleep in first."

"Anything for you, princesa."

[roberttchase]

Manner minded or double trouble? Both SO matty? Maybe Christie looking after him?

double trouble: [character] is sick and injured.

I will be writing the manner minded one separately :) I hope you enjoy this (somewhat more detailed than I'd originally planned) ficlet.

Send prompts to my inbox.

+ + +

If you were to ask Matt Casey if he thought he was lucky, for the most part he would answer with 'no'. Yes, he's lucky enough to have Sylvie Brett as a girlfriend, lucky to have gone to the fire academy, lucky to have been promoted to a lieutenant and then captain. But he also had an emotionally abusive father as a teenager, a murderer for a mother, his girlfriend of eight years was killed, his wife left him. For every good thing, it feels like there are three bad things in his life.

So he can't even really say it's a surprise when, while on scene helping squad rescue two victims in a car that's balancing precariously close to the frozen Chicago River, Matt loses his balance, slips from the hood of the car, and falls almost twelve feet onto the ice that then suddenly cracks underneath him, submerging him in below forty degree water. Nothing in his life is ever easy. Intense pain radiates from his chest, his body feels like it's on fire, and then nothing.

From there, the scene is absolute chaos. Sylvie and Violet are both off shift, spending the entire week in Joliet helping teach at a conference. The two paramedics that are on scene are instantly calling for backup, while both Severide and Tony frantically suit up in scuba gear for precaution. Boden's yelling orders, but the three other members of truck are all frozen, staring at the large hole in the ice, from which their Captain is currently very much not getting out of.

+ + +

"Christie, you really don't have to do this, Severi-"

"I know what Severide said, but I'd feel more comfortable if you stayed with me." Christie Casey frowns, looking at her younger brother. He's at least four shades paler than he should be, cheeks flushed and eyes dull. Stubble consumes the lower half of his face, and the firefighter looks exhausted. She can't say that she blames him, not with the hell that he's gone through the past thirty six hours.

She'd gotten the call from Stella Kidd yesterday, a kind but shaky voice telling her that Casey, Matt, had fallen into an icy river, and was at Gaffney Chicago Medical Center being treated for two broken ribs and mild hypothermia. Arriving half an hour later, she'd been taken into Matt's room, where they had him on enough pain medication he was basically incoherent. One of the doctors had explained to her that the next few hours were important for any person who'd almost drowned- inhalation of the river water had occurred, and aspiration pneumonia was a large possibility. For a naive moment, Christie was certain that Matt would be fine.

Matt's never that lucky.

It's how she finds herself now, half glaring at her brother, who's been given instructions to stay with someone for the next forty eight hours, while his body wars with itself. The red haired doctor had explained that unless the mans fever reaches over 102, or his breathing deteriorates, he's allowed to stay out of the hospital. Severide's offered to let him stay at the loft, to take next shift off and watch over his best friend, but she tells her brothers best friend no. She needs to be able to watch over her little brother, if his paramedic girlfriend can't.

She's already talked to Sylvie, had called her only an hour after getting the call herself. They'd come to the conclusion that as long as someone was there to watch Matt, she needed to finish up the week for the CFD and CEMS.

"You ready to leave? I'm bringing you back to my place. Violet's got the guest room all ready for you."

Matt blinks and then nods, shoulders curved in slightly, one arm wrapped around his side. He looks a little woozy, though that could be from the pain pills being pumped through his body. That, or the fever he's sporting. April wheels him to the front of the hospital while Christie grabs her car and pulls it up to the curb.

Half an hour later, Matt's being helped into the guest room, where, sure enough, the bed has fresh sheets and a few extra pillows have been added for the man who isn't supposed to lay flat on his back. She gets him under the covers, thankful he's cooperating, and by the time she's back with the meds in a little plastic cup, as well as a glass of water, Matt's asleep.

"Matt, hey, you have to wake up and take your medicine, then you can go back to sleep, okay?" She shakes him as gently as possible, not wanting to hurt his ribs any more than they already are. She must knock something loose though, because not a second later he starts coughing, low and harsh, and his eyes flutter open. Gasping for air, they wait for his chest to stop spasming. His arm is cradling his side and she feels terrible, wishing she could help.

"I just need you to take this medicine, then you can sleep again," she promises, holding the cup out for him. When he nods, the woman lets the small pills tumble onto his open palm, and soon he's swallowing them tiredly.

"C-Can you stay?" The words are quiet and hang in the air as she turns to leave. Pausing, Christie turns back and is struck by just how young Matt looks, laying there with fever flushed cheeks and sallow skin.

Moving slowly, the woman gets into the other side of the bed, carefully shifting to get comfortable.

"Just like old times huh?"

She knows he's referring to their childhood. Christie can't help but smirk a little at the memories.

"Are you talking about when you would come crying to me because you were afraid of the dark?" Her tone is teasing, and instinctively she lets her fingers find his hair, running them through it just like she did when they were young teens and their father had been yelling at them.

A laugh bubbles out of Matt's throat, but it quickly changes to coughing, and it takes a moment for Matt to calm down, sipping water before replying.

"I was actually talking about when I was eight and caught whatever that punk across the street had after he coughed on me. I remember I was out of school for a week, and you stayed with me as much as you could."

She remembers it well.

+ + +

Matt never gets sick, not when he was a baby, and not now. She's always been the one to come down with colds or strep throat, and Matt always manages to avoid germs. He had been sick once when he was a toddler, once, but other than that, she can't remember him ever even getting a runny nose. And then Michael Jeffries goes and coughs all over him on the bus when she's in fifth grade and he's in third, and Matt's record of not getting sick goes down the drain.

It had been on a Monday. That following Thursday afternoon, Christie's waiting for Matt to get on the bus when their bus driver tells her that her brother has apparently gone home early. The whole ride home, the eleven year old is upset, not for her brother, but at the fact she wasn't taken out early either. Why did Matt get to go home and play when she didn't? By the time she's walking into their small home, the blonde is stomping her feet and slamming the door behind her, ready to ask why her stupid brother gets such special treatment.

Instantly though, she realizes something is wrong. Mommy isn't downstairs like she normally is, but instead of being worried, the girl let sher anger build. Running up the stairs, her ponytail swaying behind her, Christie's ready to yell and throw a tantrum, but she freezes when she sees her mom sitting on Matt's small twin bed. She's holding their big blue bowl that she always gets out when Christie's stomach is sick, and Matt is throwing up, coughing and spluttering after, while she rubs his back. Cautiously, Christie walks into the doorway.

"Mommy...what wrong with Matt?"

Nancy and Matt look up, the older woman rubbing her sons back.

"Matt's just not feeling well honey, he'll be alright."

Christie frowns and looks at her brother, whose cheeks are a startling bright pink, his skin pale.

"He looks really sick..." Suddenly she's not mad at all anymore, instead she's worried, no, scared. Matt doesn't get sick. That's his superpower, just like hers is liking vegetables.

Before any more words are spoken, Matt coughs and lets out a strangled little whine. "M-Mommy..."

Christie turns her face away as Matt gets sick this time, not wanting to watch anyone throw up. Instead, she goes and busies herself with finding paper and her crayons. Sitting down on her bedroom floor, the eleven year old goes to town with making her brother a get well soon card, the only thing she knows she can do in this moment.

That night, while she and mommy eat downstairs, Christie can hear Matt crying with Daddy. The second she finishes her food and washes her plate off, the blonde runs upstairs, wanting to make sure the younger boy is okay. She stops in front of his room, but no one's there, the twin sized bed with dark green sheets is empty, even his beloved stuffed bear is gone. Walking further down the hall, she sees the two she's been looking for in her parents king sized bed.

Matt's laying against Daddy, Bear clutched in his hand, his ear against the boys lip. Daddy smiles at her and puts a finger to his lips, telling her to be quiet. Nodding, Christie tiptoes in and peers at them both, before climbing in putting a delicate hand on Matt's shoulder, hoping he'll be ok.

+ + +

Brought back to the present, Christie feels Matt's forehead and sighs. "just try and sleep okay? I'll be here if you need me, okay? I won't let anything bad happen to you Matt."

It's as if it's all he's been waiting to hear. It takes him all of two minutes to fall back asleep, head resting against his sisters shoulder. She supposes that this can be the start of all the years she'd missed taking care of him after she'd left for college. He deserves it.