#if i seize oh well i’ll go to the bathroom and wait for it to end if i exorcist vomit oh well i’ll go to the bathroom

[ultraviolencced]

……………………………………….

[starryhyuck]

just like magic. (m)

pairing: fuckboy!jaehyun x fuckgirl!reader

words: 4k+

summary: jung jaehyun’s body count is almost as high as yours. however, after yuta spreads a nasty rumor, you learn that jaehyun’s always imagined those girls to be you instead.

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: multiple sex partners, public sex, sex on the roof, multiple orgasms, degradation, wall sex, creampie

Your head rests on the bathroom mirror, inhaling and exhaling loudly as Mingyu finds a wipe to clean you up.

“Ugh. I can’t believe we did it in Bambam’s gross bathroom.”

Mingyu chuckles, the deep sound echoing in the small space. “Please. Don’t act like you’re so disgusted now.” You roll your eyes at his comment while he cleans the cum smeared on the inside of your thighs. “Besides, it’s not like you were having fun at the party anyways.”

You shrug and jump down from the sink, straightening out your skirt and trying to look somewhat presentable.

“True,” you murmur, fixing your hair in the mirror. “Jungkook couldn’t come tonight so it was way easier to find you.”

He scoffs. “As if Jungkook could fuck you better than me.”

You laugh and find the lipgloss sitting at the bottom of your bag. “Oh, he can. He’s not a little gym rat for nothing, you know.”

Mingyu huffs, leaning down to pull your panties back up and straightening your skirt. This scene isn’t unfamiliar to the both of you, although doing it in Bambam’s bathroom certainly was. You’re pretty sure Bambam smoked a shit ton of weed before his party started, and Mingyu opens the bathroom window to release some of the odor.

“See you in 104. Did you finish the extra credit paper already?”

You shook your head, opening the bathroom door and hearing the lively party continue downstairs.

“Nope, not planning to,” you give him one last kiss on the cheek. “Nice fuck, Gyu. Tell Jungkook to show up next time.”

He rolls his eyes again and you two depart, almost toppling over as you bump into Jung Jaehyun on the stairs. His arm quickly slides around your waist to prevent you from falling. He smiles at you.

“How was Mingyu?”

“How was Jennie?”

He chuckles. “Good. As always. You really have to start expanding your little black book. Mingyu and Jungkook aren’t always going to be around, you know.”

You raise an eyebrow and step away from him, shooing his arm away from you. “You don’t think I have backups, silly? Doyoung is at my beck and call, I assure you.”

He smirks, raising his red solo cup to you. “If you ever need me.”

You dismiss him, walking down the stairway of Bambam and Yugyeom’s place. You and Jaehyun had always been similar in many ways, especially in the way you ‘connect’ with other people. If you two ever had a body count competition, it would surely have Johnny’s head spinning all night at the numbers. You never fucked Jaehyun, however, simply because you had no desire to. You’ve known Jaehyun for as long as you’ve known Mingyu, but the only personality trait you’ve ever deducted from Jaehyun was that he’s excellent in bed.

That, and the fact that during your first year of college, Yuta spread some rumor that Jaehyun masturbates to the thought of you.

No big deal.

You find Minghao and Sicheng speaking in the kitchen, and you whine when you clutch Minghao’s arm.

“I’m tired, Hao.”

“You leave us to go fuck Mingyu for a hour and now you want to go home?”

You can hear the condescending tone in Minghao’s voice and you do your best to ignore it. You offer him your best toothy grin. “Come on, designated driver. You’re not even doing anything remotely fun!”

“Hey!” Sicheng interjects. “We were actually just talking.”

You lean over to pinch his cheeks and Sicheng nearly growls at you.

“You’re cute, but you and Minghao talk all the time. Nothing new. Plus, all of us are roommates, dumbass! We could talk at home any time we want to.”

“Fine, fine,” Minghao concedes, laying his cup down on the kitchen counter. You ignore the fact that Yugyeom’s tongue is shoved down some girl’s throat only five feet away from all of you. “Did you already clean yourself up? I don’t want any of Mingyu’s germs in my car.”

“Are we sure it was Mingyu?” Sicheng counters. “It could’ve been Jungkook or Doyoung or Wonwoo or Jinyoung or-“

“Alright, alright,” you glare at him. “And yes, it was Mingyu. He already cleaned me up so you won’t get any Gyu germs.”

“Good.”

Minghao still has trouble trusting you after that one time you wore a skirt with no panties and let Kun’s cum spill all over Minghao’s front seat. Sicheng is still extremely traumatized from the situation.

You exit the house party with your roommates, almost stopping at the sight of Kunhang looking like a fucking dream near the speakers-

“Come on, you horny asshole,” Sicheng grunts, pushing you out the door.

—

“Did you hear the news?”

Your eyes flutter at the sight of Nakamoto Yuta, who is leaning over your desk, smiling. You sigh and decide to entertain him.

“What is it now, Yuta?”

“A little birdy told me that a certain Jung Jaehyun has fallen for Mingyu’s girl,” Yuta’s smirk widens when you furrow your eyebrows.

“Mingyu has a girlfriend?”

He huffs. “You, dumbass.”

You giggle at the thought of dating Mingyu and roll your eyes. “You’re full of shit, Nakamoto.”

He stands straight, his figure towering over you. You peek your head out to see if the lecture has started yet so Yuta can get the fuck away from you.

“Then why did I hear Jaehyun calling your name when he was getting his dick wet this morning?”

The accusation has your eyebrows raising. You barely know Jaehyun, only from fleeting stories from Mingyu and Jungkook. You also know that Yuta’s always full of shit, spreading rumors about various people just because he can.

“Get your head out of your ass, Yuta.”

He laughs at your dismissive nature, leaning in again. There’s a troublesome glint in his eyes.

“And what if I told you Mingyu said Jaehyun’s loved you since you were five?”

You challenge him. “I would say that the cum in Miyeon’s panties say otherwise.”

He smiles and steps back when the professor finally enters the room.

“Whatever you want to believe.”

That conversation with Yuta was three years ago. He’s graduated long since, but the rumor about Jaehyun still pops up here and there. Jaehyun never addressed it with you, and when you asked Mingyu about it once, he just laughed.

“A lot of guys on campus jack off to the thought of you. Are you surprised?”

You think about the memory as you watch Soojin straddle Jaehyun, her hair falling over the side of her face as she leans in to kiss him. The rest of the party ignores them, mainly focused on how Bambam is nearly toppling over trying to do a keg stand.

A hand slides around your waist and you feel someone’s lips attach to your neck.

“Gyu told me you were looking for me the other day,” Jungkook murmurs lowly in your ear. “Did you miss me?”

You smile when you feel his fingers inch closer to your breast, hands roaming all over your body.

“Yes. Your absence made me fuck Mingyu in Bambam’s germ-covered bathroom.”

He chuckles lowly, and the sound shoots straight to your core.

“I’m here now, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

Your eyes drift upwards again, startled to find Jaehyun already gazing at you. Soojin’s sucking at his neck, but his eyes are locked on you, watching the way Jungkook paws at your breast.

Yuta’s voice rings in your ears. Jaehyun’s loved you since you were five.

You push the thought away as Jungkook’s mouth envelops yours. Jaehyun couldn’t love you, Yuta was just full of shit.

—

“You’re late.”

You narrow your eyes at Mingyu, who brushes off the time. He promised to meet up with you yesterday to finish your project for 104 and give you a quick lunch time fuck. You’re a little disheartened to see he’s tugged Doyoung and Jaehyun along.

“Don’t be so upset, frowning doesn’t look good on you,” Mingyu teases, sliding in the chair across from you. Doyoung sits next to him, and Jaehyun awkwardly takes the spot next to you. “We were just playing a little basketball outside. The time slipped my mind.”

“Well, I guess it slips my mind that I’m supposed to fuck you before your next class.”

Doyoung laughs and seizes the opportunity. “I, on the other hand, never promised anything and my schedule is conveniently free for the whole day.” He winks at you, his gums showing brightly as he smiles.

You smirk when Mingyu elbows him in the side. Jaehyun is oddly quiet and you turn to face him while Mingyu hisses at Doyoung.

“I saw you and Soojin getting it on last weekend. How was it?”

He smiles tightly. “Good, as always. Jungkook per usual?”

You nod. “The little gym rat won’t stop exercising. He was talking to me about his routine all night. I almost just got myself off instead.”

Something flickers in Jaehyun’s gaze, and it’s gone so quickly that you might’ve missed it.

“I can’t imagine why that would be preferred, especially when you have most of the male population lining up to get a taste of you.”

There’s a hidden implication in his words, and you take the chance.

“Are you part of that male population?”

He smirks at your question. Before he has a chance to answer, Mingyu’s voice fills your ears again.

“Anyways, my dorm is free and I can afford to miss my next class. Wanna head up? Promise I’ll go down on you as an apology.”

You scoff at Mingyu’s half-assed proposal, and stand to leave. “I’ll pass. Get a watch next time if you want your dick wet. I’m assuming you’re going to finish most of our project since I was waiting here for over a hour.”

Mingyu frowns. “But-“

“But?” You say, raising an eyebrow.

His shoulders slump. “Fine. I’ll finish the damn project.”

You lean over to pinch his cheeks. “Good Mingyu. I’ll see all of you at Minghao’s birthday bash.”

You depart without another word, ignoring the burn of Jaehyun’s stare. When you arrive back to your apartment, Minghao is organizing his wine cabinet while Sicheng talks to Tzuyu at the kitchen counter. You sigh and throw your bag across the island.

“Boys are dumb.”

Tzuyu laughs. “Did Mingyu forget what time it is again?”

“As always,” you confirm, searching for anything consumable in your fridge. As expected, no one’s gone grocery shopping in a week. Guess you’ll have to raid Wonwoo’s apartment tonight.

Sicheng huffs. “Good. I don’t need you getting any more Mingyu germs before Minghao’s party tomorrow.”

“And what does Hao’s party have anything to do with me getting laid?” Sicheng rolls his eyes at your question, and you smile sweetly at him. You decide to favor the leftover pieces of ham sitting at the back of the fridge. “Tzuyu, back me up here. Didn’t you have a good time with Jaehyun two weeks ago?”

Tzuyu’s cheeks flush as she recalls what you’re referring to. At Jungwoo’s party, she and Jaehyun were practically fucking each other in the middle of the living room.

“I guess. He was weird about some things.”

You frown, removing the lid off of the container and shoving a piece of ham in your mouth. “Like what?”

She looks embarrassed to be talking about such intimate things in front of Sicheng, but your roommate is unbothered. He’s heard enough of your escapades to be unfazed by any mentions of sex.

“He didn’t want to look at me when we did it. He told me I had to face the pillow or else he couldn’t cum that way.”

You shrug. “So he likes it from behind. Nothing too weird about that. Which way do you prefer, Sicheng?”

He glares at you. “None of your business.”

You giggle at how cute he is before Tzuyu continues. “I mean, it wasn’t just that. He didn’t really like it when I made noises. I had to be as quiet as possible.”

“Ugh, that’s fucked. Guys can grunt in the nastiest ways possible but they hate it when we make an ounce of noise. I hope you’re not that way, Sicheng.”

His glare burns. “None. Of. Your. Business.”

“Yeah, it was weird. He’s really good in bed though.”

You chuckle. “I would hope so. Anyways, who’s on the guest list for tomorrow night?”

Sicheng sighs, and you wonder if he thinks about moving out and living with a less horny roommate.

“Basically anyone you’ve fucked before since you’ve slept with all of Hao’s friends.”

You frown. “That’s not fun. I like someone new once in a while.”

“No funny business at Minghao’s party, I mean it. We can’t be cutting his cake while you’re getting railed in your room.”

You boop his nose. “No promises.”

—

Sicheng’s done this on purpose.

All of the men at Minghao’s party have flocked away from you, like Sicheng sent them all a mass text before the party started or something. You tried to slide up to Mingyu but then he was quickly taking the offer to do body shots with someone else. It’s as if you would bite all their dicks off with the way they’re running from you.

It’s the middle of the party when you grow tired of hearing Jieqiong’s banter with Jun.

You step out of the apartment for a few minutes and head up to the roof, arms wrapping around yourself to shield from the cold. You know you should’ve went to Wonwoo yesterday, especially since Sicheng has apparently made it a no fuck zone for tonight.

You jump when you feel a jacket moving over your shoulders. You’re even more startled to see Jaehyun next to you.

“Oh, hey. When did you get here?”

He smiles, and it hurts your eyes a little by how pretty he is.

“About a hour ago. I’m not surprised you didn’t notice, considering I could feel your rage from five feet away.”

You laugh dryly. “Did Sicheng send you a text too?”

“No, but Mingyu told me about it. I assume he only sent it to the guys you’ve slept with before.”

You nod. “Yeah, probably. I’m off limits to all males tonight.”

The two of you stand together in silence, gazing out at the view of your city. You’ve never felt an urge to get an answer from Jaehyun before about Yuta’s rumor, but now that he’s here, it’s all you can think about.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why didn’t you say anything about the rumor Yuta spread around in freshman year?”

His back stiffens. The seconds pass in a deafening thump, and you’re starting to feel like you shouldn’t have brought it up.

He finally sighs. “How long have we known each other?”

You blink. Did he really have to respond to a question with another question?

You think back to when you first met Jaehyun and Mingyu. You were only five then, and you screamed in the middle of the classroom because Mingyu had spilled paint all over the front of your shirt. You remember Jaehyun handing you a wipe to clean yourself up, ears bright red.

You grin at the memory. “Since I found out Mingyu was the clumsiest kid on earth.”

He chuckles. “You never really saw it, did you?”

“Saw what?”

You’re even more confused by Jaehyun’s vague ass answers. He averts his gaze from you, and you suddenly feel a lot colder on this rooftop.

“How much I liked you.”

The statement causes you to freeze. So Yuta was right - Jung Jaehyun has loved you since you were five. Still, it doesn’t make any sense. You’ve been fucking Mingyu since high school and Jaehyun never seemed bothered by it, considering he and Mingyu were still best friends. In fact, you’ve been in bed with most of his friend group and he’s never said a word about it. His friends never even mention his liking for you, so you have to assume that they don’t know of it either.

As if he could sense your rampant thoughts running wild, he squashes them.

“I thought you loved Mingyu. I thought that when the two of you first started sleeping together, it would develop into something more. It’s why I never said anything to him. He knew, but I’m sure he thought I didn’t mind.”

You’re baffled. You don’t even know how to respond to this newfound information. Maybe you should’ve stayed downstairs at the party.

“Mingyu is an asshole,” you finally conclude. Jaehyun’s shoulders relax when you speak. “And so am I. I swear, I didn’t know, Jaehyun. I would’ve-“

“You would’ve stopped seeing Mingyu? And Jungkook? And Doyoung, and Wonwoo, and-“

“Okay, okay,” you raise a hand up to stop him before glaring. “You’re not entirely innocent either. I’m friends with most of the girls you’ve slept with too.”

His eyes darken. “And have you asked them what it’s like to be with me? How I have to turn them over and imagine it’s you before I can get hard? How I have to keep them quiet because their moans are too loud or simply because it doesn’t sound like you?” How-“

“Jaehyun,” you whisper, feeling like the wind has gotten knocked out of your chest. You’re also trying to ignore the wetness that’s pooled in your underwear. “Are you saying-“

“I’m saying that I’ve been running circles around you since we were five and you’ve never noticed. I’ve had to hear countless nights of Mingyu and Jungkook talking about how sweet your pussy is when they slide into you. How pretty you are when you’re stuffing their cocks far down your throat. How you let them take you anywhere, any time, because you enjoy it as much as they do.”

You swallow. He’s inches away from you now, hands dancing around your waist carefully. You quickly check the time.

One hour before Minghao cuts his cake. That should be enough.

You grab the fabric of Jaehyun’s shirt, pulling him to you as his lips crash into yours. He grunts, gripping your sides and pressing you against the railing. Your eyes glance down briefly to see how high up you two are.

“Drop me and I’ll kill you.”

He laughs, chasing you again and quickly moving to undress you. You ignore the goosebumps rising on your arms when Jaehyun nips at your neck, fingers dipping into your panties. “So pretty,” he murmurs, licking a stripe across your collarbones. You moan when he slides a finger into your heat. “That’s it, baby. Sound so fucking good.”

He slips another finger in, basking in the glory of your moans. “We have to hurry,” you mumble breathily. “Sicheng will come looking if he knows I’m gone for too long. It’s like he can sense when I’m fucking someone.”

Jaehyun laughs, moving back up to kiss you. “He can watch if he wants to then.”

“I wanna-“ you gasp when he curls his fingers. “I wanna suck you off.”

“Fuck,” he hisses. He’s fingering you faster now, and you can hear the squelch of your wetness fill the air. You gasp, desperately holding onto his forearm. “I’ll fuck your mouth next time, I promise. I need to see you cum now.”

You unravel in no time, moaning loudly as you fall apart on Jaehyun’s fingers. He coaxes you through your orgasm, murmuring praises in your ear. You whimper when he pulls away from you, licking up the remaining essence on his fingers.

“Jaehyun,” you say frantically, pawing at him. “I need you inside me.”

You turn over so that your back is facing him, and you think he’s about to slide your underwear down but instead, he swivels you around.

“Need to see you,” he whispers. “Jump.”

You do as he says, wrapping your legs around his waist and kissing him with much more fervor. You moan when his hands grip your sides roughly, pressing you against the concrete. You sit on the ledge of the rooftop, trying to ignore the genuine fear of falling.

He’s quickly shoving his jeans down his thighs and you whimper.

“Hurry, Jae.”

“Fuck, baby. I’m here, I’m right here,” he hisses, pulling out his cock and giving it a few strokes. Your eyes widen at the size — he was surely bigger and thicker than Mingyu or Jungkook. He chuckles at your stare, as if he knows exactly what you’re thinking. “Bigger than what you normally have?”

You narrow your eyes. “Don’t tell me you idiots had a dick measuring contest.”

He shrugs. “Maybe.”

Then, he’s pushing your panties to the side and sliding into you. You gasp, his fingers roughly gripping you in place to make sure you don’t fall. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust, thrusting rapidly as soon as he feels you.

“Good little slut,” he grunts. “So pretty and pliant for me. Is my cock too big for you to take, baby?”

“You’re gonna fucking,” you pant, whining when his cock hits you deeper. “You’re gonna fucking split me in half, asshole.”

He grins mischievously. “That’s the goal.”

You’re so lost in the feeling of him that the both of you fail to hear the door to the rooftop open. You’re startled when Sicheng’s voice booms in the air.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! We haven’t even cut the cake yet!”

“Sicheng, I-“ you shamelessly whimper when Jaehyun hits your sweet spot, not slowing down in the slightest despite Sicheng watching. “W-We’ll be d-down before Hao c-cuts the cake.”

“Horny assholes,” you hear your roommate mutter before the door to the rooftop is closing again.

Jaehyun chortles. “He should’ve sent that text to me too if he was so concerned.”

“Fuck him,” you groan. “And fuck me harder.”

He listens to your command, pushing into you so deep that you almost fall off the ledge. You scream as your upper body dangles off the rooftop, but you can hear Jaehyun’s giggle. Your fear is overtaken by arousal when you realize his cock is hitting you deeper in this position.

“Cum, cum,” you whisper. “I’m cumming.”

He groans when you tighten around him, convulsing around his cock. When you recover, he’s hoisting you back up, bringing your chest to his as he carries you. You have no idea where he’s going, but with every step, his cock slides deeper into your soaking cunt.

The door to the rooftop is opening again and you realize you’re in the stairwell.

“Get down, hands on the railing.”

You shakily follow his command, ignoring the wobble of your legs as you grip the metal bars. He’s pushing into you again before you can take a breath.

“I-I thought you needed to see me,” you say, your back turned to him.

“You’re right.”

Then, he’s pushing you against the wall with force and abusing your pussy. You practically scream, clawing at his back while he pounds you into the wall.

“Do you want to know exactly what Yuta heard three years ago?” He groans against your neck. You can barely form coherent sentences, and you’re pretty sure you had another orgasm that you haven’t even revived from. “He heard me desperately fucking my cock into my hand, whimpering your name. All I could imagine that day was the little short dress you wore to Yugyeom’s party, and how Jungkook’s hands were all over you as soon as you stepped through the door. I fucking came so hard that I had to wash my sheets before Mingyu came back to the dorm.”

“Jaehyun, Jaehyun,” you whisper frantically. You’re unraveling again — cumming around his cock while he fucks you hard. “Cum with me. Inside, cum inside. Please, please.”

He grunts lowly. “Yeah? You want my cum? What about the rest of them — how many of them have spilled inside you?”

“I’ll keep it in,” you promise him, just wanting your hole to be filled. “I’ll walk around Hao’s party with your cum dripping down my thighs. How does that sound?”

And he’s groaning, giving one final thrust before he empties inside of you. You gasp at how much cum he has to give you, some of it spilling down your lips and onto the floor.

The both of you are panting lowly, trying to recover from your orgasms. You faintly hear a chorus of people singing Happy Birthday two floors down.

“Fuck, Sicheng’s gonna kill us.”

[hotwings0203]

now we need a part 4 with izuku and bakugo on what happens next to the poor reader 😩✋🏼

Aight imma do a two for one here so MASSIVE BET

Tw:noncon, gangbang

When your hand reaches the doorknob, you know something is off only half a millisecond before another large hand settles itself on your wrist and another one caressing your side.

You freeze immediately at the voices that croon and snarl to you.

“Open the door quietly and we don’t have to make this any more difficult than it’s already gonna be.”

“God, you smell so good. You still haven’t changed your shampoo even after all these weeks huh? I like it.”

Your hand starts to shake and your body starts to sweat as you wildly try to find a way out of this situation. The voices sound eerily familiar, with one being higher and the other more aggressive and raspy, but you don’t dare turn around to locate the faces.

One of them seems to be catching onto your hesitation, because your wrist is crushed underneath a hard grasp and you cry out softly as they growl.

“Open. This. Fucking. Door. Right now.”

It takes a good 15 more seconds to jimmy the lock open, and once you do all three of you go tumbling in.

You whip back around to see both men standing over you, merely watching you with crossed arms and equally perverse leers.

“D-deku? Bakugo? What’s going on?”

Deku practically bounces on the balls of his feet, itching with inappropriate anticipation for what’s to come.

“We wanted to play with you! Are you ready? You can’t fucking ignore me anymore!” His voice is cheery as always but it breaks when he curses, the strains in his vocal cords sticking out while he forces himself from holding back.

Bakugo steps forward.

“Didnt I tell you I was gonna come again for you, you teasing cunt? Didn’t I say to watch your back? Now look at you, sprawled on the floor like rapetoys should be.”

Both men start slowly uncrossing their arms and advance towards you.

“No-no please, why? I didn’t do anything to you! Deku, please!” You blubber as you scuttle backwards, their strides equally as long.

You continue evading them as they play around with you.

“Oh, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those words. ‘Deku, please.’ Although, I’d very much rather you moan it for me.” He has the audacity to blush, and then Bakugo interjects.

“You deserve this y’know, so don’t start crying now. We haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet.” He spreads his hands and his uncharacteristic grin stretches from ear to ear, his vermillion eyes flashing in the dim light of your dorm.

“Anyone whose stupid enough to not realize how this creep has been sniffin’ your panties for months-hell, maybe even years now should get raped. You’re so fucking stupid, you didn’t realize I was protecting you from him.”

“But now look at you. Alone, afraid, vulnerable…oh, and going to the bedroom. You really are an easy slut, huh?”

Deku’s eyes light up when he realizes you truly are unknowingly backing up into the bedroom, but you realize it too late.

It’s only after Bakugo’s words come out that you try to look for a detour for the lock-induced bathroom, but Deku has a different idea.

Out of pure excitement he laughs and sprints towards you, hands outreached to touch your pretty skin, mouth open with drool softly filling the tile below him and eyes bloodshot with lust.

He looks like a creature from hell, and in the pure terror of watching him come at you like that your plan to detour was thwarted and you mindlessly trip back over your feet onto the bed, scrambling as far away as you can from them to the headboard.

You look to your left and quickly seize your bedside lamp, raising it above your head.

“Domt come any closer you closer perv. God, I shouldve known you were fucked in the head. I kept trying to make excuses for you, I thought you were my friend-“ you break down in sobs as the green haired man continues looking at you like you’re a piece of meat, absentmindedly wiping his hand across his mouth.

“And you,” you point to Bakugo who bares his teeth and smirks madly, “I already knew you were the embodiment of hell, but I thought you had a limit of how low you could stoop. You didn’t protect me from shit, you forced your way inside of me day in and day out.”

“Well now that your useless little monologue is over, Deku, tie her legs to the posts. I swear Y/N, you’re making this way too easy for me. It’s almost boring, I already know what I’m gonna get.” He raises his eyebrows at you while he lets his minion do all the work for him, goosebumps racing up his arm at the sight of you screaming and fighting tooth and nail against your fate.

But at the end of the day, after all your curses and sobs and monologues, you’re no match for either of them, especially Deku, who cooes at you to scream louder while he caresses your face and uses nylon string to secure your wrists to the wooden posts. Your legs are also bound after Bakugo seizes them from kicking, and a gag is placed over your mouth by his hands.

He roughly taps the tape covering your trembling lips and smiles condescendingly down at you.

“You’re doing so well for us, rapemeat. Keep up the good work and try to spread those legs as much as you can.” He chuckles when you scream your lungs out, thrashing as he yanks your knees apart.

“Aw, Kacchan, can’t we take the gag off? I wanted to hear her in my ears,” he pouts and looks glumly at your writhing figure.

“No, how fucked in the head are you? Someones gonna come down if she’s hollering for the whole building to hear. And cut her clothes off, I’m getting impatient.”

It seems like Deku too was at his last fiber of self control as his hands shake equally as much as yours, except for an entirely different reason altogether, the opposite reason of yours in fact.

He fishes in his back pockets for something, and produces a glinting steel knife with a black handle.

You still immediately as his descends his hands to the top of your v-neck shirt, right above your collarbones. His eyes fog up as your satiny smooth skin comes in contact with the blade, the coldness of the steel sending shivers down your spine and making you sob harder.

“Kacchan…did you ever get a taste of her blood? How does she taste?” He lifts his head to look into your tear-streaked eyes, but he addresses his childhood friend.

Bakugo snorts. “Calm down Toga, don’t get too crazy yet. We’ll have some more fun later, right now my dick is about to explode. ‘Need a hole,” he mumbles at the end and finally clambers onto the bed right atop your legs.

You stay absolutely silent as pressure from the knife rips the thin strands of your clothes apart, and Deku takes careful care to ensure you at least have thin red lines running down your stomach if not for actual blood.

“Oh fuckkkk,just look at her. You look good enough to eat…” he looks at you and licks his lips, salivating when you whine and twist at your restraints.

“Yeah yeah, you do whatever the fuck you want. Just choose what you’re gonna stick it in and hurry up.”

The blond looks bored almost as the more eager one whips to the side to face him.

“You mean it Kacchan? I can pick?”

They speak as if you’re not alive, no feelings or humanity involved. All you can do is watch and yell into your makeshift gag as the blond waves him off.

“Go for it. It’s your first time satisfying that sick head of yours, ‘must get boring doing it from behind a screen all the time.”

His slowly turns to face you, a kind leer etched across his features, eyebrows slanted and hand coming up to pull your ripped clothes apart.

You struggle and spit muffled profanities out as he slowly drags the bridge of your bra down, eyes wide open as your nipples pop out and eventually both of your tits bounce out.

He hisses and takes his nails up your stomach to fondle your breast. You can tell Deku’s too excited, too inexperienced from the way he handles them like stress balls. You grunt as his mouth latches onto a pert nipple, suckling and looking up at you as if he were some kind of demonic baby.

Bakugo watches all this with a dark glint in his eyes, absentmindedly palming himself as he watches the show unfold in front of him.

It’s entertaining seeing all of the creep’s hormones spiral out of control from years of pent-up lust. He’s never seen the dork so fired up and hungry, he’s never seen him so brutal with a civilian before, the type of people he used to say he’d protect at all costs.

After he’s done playing with your sore tits, he wasted no time in yanking your sweats off. You don’t even trash around anymore, the only thing you’re capable of in this state of terror and shock is weak moans and little sobs, maybe a writhe or two here and there.

Your panties are also torn off and you howl when the elastic cuts into your skin within the process. Bakugo takes this last stripping as an indication for him to move now. He lifts himself up on his knees and moves around your head while Deku situates himself between your violently twitching legs.

“I’m gonna take the gag out now. If you scream or pull any funny business I’ll plug your pussy and your throat with this knife, got it?” He snatches the weapon from the bed and waves it dangerously close to your face.

You nod frantically and try to turn your head to the side, but he yanks you back into place and decides to have his own fun.

While Izuku hurriedly takes his own shorts off the hothead slowly takes the tape off your mouth, staring down at you with unblinking eyes. The knife which you’re so afraid of is traced around your own squeezed shut eyes, down your cheeks and around your lips.

But the horrified trance on which he keeps you in is broken when Izuku suddenly shoved his entire length inside your dry cavern.

Luckily Bakugo has enough foresight to slam a hand over your howling mouth before the entire building can be woken up, and he glares at the sheepish-looking man down the bed from him.

“Are you a fucking virgin? At least rub her clit or something so she doesn’t go hollering at every thrust you damn nerd!”

The man between your legs winces and rubs the back of his neck, chuckling nervously.

“Oops, sorry, got a little carried away there.”

He doesn’t pull out, he merely thrusts slower, trying to fit his fat dick inside your unwilling cunt.

A string of curses leaves your lips and you grimace as the pain becomes near blinding.

Bakugo looks down at you again, the knife forgotten.

“No teeth either.” Your breaths come out in little frantic pants when his bare cock springs out of his own pants.

He taps the leaking purple tip on your lips and you open hesitantly. There’s no point in resisting anymore, they’ve got you quite literally cornered.

“Wider, slut,” he snarls, and you do-but only because Deku’s paps get more aggressive, causing your mouth to fall open in a long whine.

The blond takes this opportunity to slam his length down your throat, groaning around when he sees your throat swell with his bulge.

You immediately start gagging and trying to pull at your restraints for air, his heavy balls rest right on top of your nose and you feel like you’re going to pass out.

You can barely hear him over Deku’s animalistic grunts and whines. He’s going way too fast, as if he’s possessed by your pussy. It numbs you, taking away some of the pain in a flip side.

But on the other end of your body, you’re desperate for air while a fuzzy ballsack paps against your nose and eyes.

Each sadistic stroke he puts inside of you widens your sore esophagus, bringing bile up sometimes and large amounts of saliva too.

He’s not as loud as Deku, but he’s equally as greedy with your holes.

Your body literally hovers up almost in midair as Bakugo thrusts in and lifts his hips up, taking your upper half along with it and Deku does the same unconsciously, trying to fuck up into your womb.

It’s an exact replica of a perverted spit roast, with both of them catching each other’s rhythm and slamming inside your holes at the same time.

Your clit is suddenly rubbed inexpertly to the point of overstimulation, and the incoming sob forced out of your throat warps into a pained scream.

The vibrations of your scream makes Bakugo cum suddenly with a hoarse groan. He doubled over your body and gnaws at your bouncing tits, licking and teething at them the same way his counterpart did.

The sight of copious amounts of cum being leaked out of your filled mouth propels the green-haired man to whimper and shove himself back in one more time, hitting your cervix and causing both his and your eyes to roll back.

He cums too, but both men keep their semi-hard cocks inside of your aching body.

You don’t know what’s worse, having both of them by your side or both of them inside.

[messwriting]

Written for the Whorehouse Compilation [RAW DOG 1080p] (Try Not To CUM) Collab:  Masterlist.

Open wide: the Doctor is IN

Shirabu Keijiro x Female Reader 

Doctor Shirabu gives you a very special treatment on your first appointment.

Rating: E for explicit | Don’t read this if under eighteen.

Note: I’m sorry for being this late to the party. The cursed porn search we all have looked at least once (some... lots of times hehehe). THANKS TO @dymphnasprose​ for the little porn search bar i love them so much ;-; <3 My (very) late contribution to the Whorehouse Server CUMpilation. Thanks for letting me participate Miki! Doctor Shirabu is ready to see you now. 

Warnings: POSSIBLE TRIGGERING CONTENT.  CONSENSUAL NON-CONSENT.  DOCTOR/PATIENT. MEDICAL PLAY. INAPPROPRIATE TOUCHES. WRONG GYNECOLOGICAL EXAM. Breast exam but not really. Corruption Kink.  MEDICAL KINK. Use of medical equipment in inappropriate ways. ANAL PLAY. Established relationship clarified at the end: role-play. Poorly researched medical stuff. Overuse of Good Girl. 

Word count: ~4.4k 

You’re such a cute little thing.

Sitting on top of the big, pristine examination table, waiting for him while wearing an easy summer dress, square heels dangling from one side to the other as your hands fumble with your own fingers on your lap, eyes flying to him immediately as he enters the close space - big, bright eyes shining in the dull white hospital room, framed by beautiful eyelashes and soft makeup. Your tempting lips are almost deployed of lipstick from as much your teeth have punished the plush flesh.

“Hello.” Shirabu greets you with an easy smile, one that he doesn’t really use despite the little effort it takes.

“Oh, hi Doctor.” There’s an anxious smile on your lips and Shirabu feels a tingle start on his fingertips, climb his arm, spread down his back to burn in his guts. You’re so pretty when you’re nervous.

“How are we today? You can come and sit by the chair first.” Shirabu moves calmly, closing the door behind him; carefully turning the key without bringing attention. He’s still testing the waters but he can gather that you’re a trusting one, waiting to hear from him what exactly you need to do and then do it. 

“Ahhh, um… I’m good, just came for my annual checkup.” You say while taking a seat on the chairs, only risking one look up at his face, then lowering those eyes onto his coat, clearly reading his name. Your expression seems surprised… but pleased. Is it because he’s young or because he’s attractive? Shirabu can’t decide, but there’s a clear smile in his lips as he looks you over, then circles his way to sit behind the table.

“Is this your first time here? If not, when was your last appointment?” 

“Actually,” Your eyes meet his when your head angles up and you scurry them down as if you’re embarrassed. Your lips are once again suffering under your teeth before you free them and speak, “It’s my first. Like, ever.”

“Oh,” Shirabu let’s slip with a breath. There’s too much joy in that little sigh and in his tone when he asks, “Really?”

Your head goes up and down first, fingers fumbling, then you seem to remember that you need to speak with him, “Yes.”

“Do you have a medical file here already? Any complaints I should know?” Shirabu covers the usual bases first, calmly checking his agenda and time, how much he can have with you and how he can extend it.

“Hm… No complaints, except…” You fall silent for a moment and Shirabu can feel the burning in your face all the way through the table. 

“It’s okay.” He’s quick to tranquilize you, “I’m your Doctor, you can tell me anything.”

“I think my birth-control is… uh, how can I say this? Making me… a little numb?” You tell him in a low voice, a hint of worry slipping through as you try to send him a little embarrassed smile as if you’re worried he may feel bad about it. 

Shirabu is quick to smile back, so pleased at how you relax and melt back into yourself at the sight of it. He can’t help but think you’re such a good girl. “You didn’t answer the first question, though.”

 “It’s my first time in the clinic as well. A friend of mine recommended it to me.” You give a precious little giggle as if your nervousness scrambles your train of thought and Shirabu thinks it’s endearing, especially the fact that you’re a pretty little thing who doesn’t know best and you’ve ended right on his lap. 

Well, he plans to make the most of it.

“Hmm, understood. So, Miss… Is it Miss?” Shirabu sends you a charming smile, one he knows it’s good, and your eyes seem to flash with something at the sight of it, your throat bobbing right before your lips split in a little smile.

“Yes,” you giggle his way with a little roll of your eyes, as if it’s obvious and he makes a surprised face along with another dazzling smile. Shirabu has smiled more in the last ten minutes than n his whole week and he’s face will soon protest.

“Really? You’re so pretty, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone had already planted a ring on your finger.” God knows he would, and as fast as he could, too. 

You bite at your lips to avoid a smile planting itself in your face, eyes fleeing from his as your hands fist your dress and you left a little breathy laugh out. As if he’s being ridiculous. 

“Okay Miss, so since it’s your first time doing this check-up, I’ll need you to do a few things for me, okay?”

“Sure, Doctor.” God, that shouldn’t mess him up as it does, the hairs on his arm standing on edge at the delicious sound of it in your voice.

“I’ll need you to go to that bathroom right there, strip all your clothes including underwear and change into the paper gown that’s right on top of a cabinet there. Leave the opening to the front and then come back to sit at that examination table right there. Can you do this for me?”

“Of course, Doctor.” Warmth spreads from his body, rolls thick with his blood around his limbs and starts concentrating south. Jesus, you’ll be his demise like this.

“Good. Now go.”

Once you’re out of sight, Shirabu makes arrangements. And when you come back, clad in nothing but a paper-thin gown that leaves little to the imagination, he buttons his coat as long as it goes. Just to be sure.

His eyes thread carefully over your barely concealed body, enthralled by how your breathing comes in quick puffs of air, goosebumps rising on your skin under the cold temperature of the room. Pressing against the warmth of his palm at the slight touch of his fingers on your shoulder. 

“You can sit at the examination table. We’ll start with a breast exam before you lie down, okay?” Shirabu knows his voice is sweeter than usual; carefully built in a trusty tone, words rolling off his mouth a little deeper, a little low - all just so he can assure he has your attention. 

 “I’ll start with a breast exam and then you can lie down.” He explains his steps one by one, so when he opens the front of the barely existing paper gown, all you do is take a sharp breath and slowly let the air out. So nice. Such a good girl for him.

He carefully brings his fingers to glide over the outskirts of your breasts, pressing on your flesh with steady, slow to warm digits. Shirabu feels as you fidget slowly when he circles the flesh once, slow and deliberate with the pressure he applies. “I’m checking for any unusual lumps around the tissue,” Shirabu tells that so close to your face he can feel the warm wave of air your gasp lets out at his words, and he pretends the little taste does nothing for him despite the way his blood boils in his veins. 

He does the same circular motion a second time, then a third time in reverse, and all but grin in his self-satisfied way when he notices the shy nub stand to attention. Your brows are furrowed even from such little stimulation, throat bobbing as your mouth sucks cold puffs of breaths inside your lungs. 

Shirabu’s digits slide up your collarbone, then press together in a quick motion from all the way up to under your breast, stealing just the slight touch over your erected nipple. 

“Please put your hand over my shoulder,” Shirabu says carefully, detached; and is delighted when you push a little dazed “what” out your swollen lips. 

He can’t help but smirk; poor little lamb is lost to the wolf around her - and his claws are already in. 

“Like this, honey.” His hand takes yours in his, open your palm with his fingers to press it on his shoulder, a wide-angle that gives him better access and provides for a comfortable examination. 

“Hm, okay!” You strangle it out, cute and bashful and Shirabu feels his slacks getting tighter.

“Good,” he breathes close to your face and restarts his movements, digits massaging up and down your chest, right side first as his fingertips get together to start to draw patterns from outside until the center in a repeated motion that ends with just a barely-there, butterfly touch over your nipples as he does a careful glide around the circle.

Your shoulders tremble and curve inwards as your abdomen seizes, hints of your pleasure that Shirabu can pinpoint even without his medical expertise. It makes his heart soars; such a little innocent thing that you can’t even speak up about it, just quietly suffering from the need growing inside you until you’ll burst.

His hand stops under your breast to weigh it, palm covering the extension of flesh as his thumb slides in a fond motion to the sides. 

“Now I’ll do the left,” Shirabu announces and feels as you tense, eyes looking up at him in a lost haze even as you blink and nod. There’s a small storm brewing inside your eyes clouding them over, as if you’re struggling to catch up to his fingers, trying to fully wrap around his motions and still falling victim of your innocence, agreeable and placid, trained and directed to respect authority. 

Dr. Shirabu knows best, you’re probably thinking as you nod once again, hands grabbing at anything they can to hide their trembling. Then he starts his ministrations by rolling your nipple with his thumb, drawing a gasp from you.

 “Oh, sorry,” Shirabu says with fake sorrow before he starts the circling massage around your breasts once again. 

A humming agreement is all you answer him, lips pressed together as if you’re embarrassed by the noise you’ve left. Oh, poor little thing. 

He can’t wait to ruin you.

Shirabu wonders if you can notice how he changes the motions of his fingers this time around, pressing closer to the center and around the halo of your breast as he kneads the delicious mound with his digits. 

Your knees are practically pressed together and you’re struggling to hold your shoulders up in a straight line and Shirabu is absolutely delighted at causing your downfall with such little, fickle things as the point of his fingers.

He waits for the moment where your teeth close sharply over your swollen lips, holding both breath and noise inside, and angles both his hands to press under your breasts, upwards motion that is a good excuse for groping - not that you’d know. Your spine curves as your head turn down in waves of burning hot embarrassment at your own behavior and Shirabu simply has to move before he does something bad.

Well, worst.

 “All done,” he tells you with a small curve on his lips as he steps back. You wait for him to turn before letting a breath out, but even that sounds sharp in the silence of the room. Shirabu hides his hands from your eyes in his pockets, fingers twitching in the absence of your smooth skin under his digits.

“Now we’ll pass to the examination.” The little tremble in your frame is enough to add twisting fire into his veins, temperature rising even when the air conditioning is running low. Shirabu does his best in making his voice sound unaffected and neutral, walking over to the stirrups and adjacent dressing table where he keeps his medical gloves.

“You can lie down and put your legs over the supports.” 

“Yes, Doctor.”

You obey like a good girl, the simple motion already flashing him the precious skin underneath, legs spread wide open and immobilized. Anxious eyes look for his in reassurance, then seem to think better of it as they fall down to watch your open legs. The view making you squirm once again in the padded table. 

So precious.

And trusting.

Your hands are clasped over your belly in an attempt to keep them from fidgeting, eyes eagerly fleeting between Shirabu’s frame and the ceiling. He sends a smile your way as he pulls the chair close to the stirrups and your disconcert is practically charming. 

When Shirabu walks over to sit between your open legs, his cock strains against his slacks, immoral coil twisted hard at the small peak of heavenly skin, of glistening folds swollen by the blood flow.

If only he could lick it.

There’s a tremble to your form that he can’t pinpoint, but the wide-open arch of your legs immobile over the stirrups clear are involved in; that, and the pulsating arousal in your center, if the way you’re throbbing open for him is any indication. 

Shirabu had considered going slow, threading carefully before taking what he wants, but the fortitude of his mind is being challenged by the view alone: You, laying on the table, legs spread and skin glowing. It’s wicked. Shirabu wishes so much to taste, but he’s snapping his gloves on instead. 

 “Are you sexually active?” He makes small talk, chair sounding loud in the silent room as he finally takes his place on it.

“I’m, uh, not for a while.”

“Any unprotected intercourse?”

“Hm... N-no.” Huh. Shirabu doubts he was able to hide the motion in his lips signaling that the little slip in your tone isn’t lost. “Are you certain? We may need to do a test, just to be sure.”

Your eyes fleet to him, shining in the artificial illumination, flustered expression as you down them for your clasped hands after. It’s rather endearing to watch as your anxious behavior spike, the way you’re unable to twist or move, pinned there by physical barrier more than just his eyes.

“It’s possible.” You answer him, meek, and he tries not to smile. “But I’ve been on the pill.”

“Ok, then. You mentioned numbness. Did you mean during intercourse or just in general?”

“Sometimes general, but normally when I’m… touching… myself.”

Oh well. What a nice little improvement. His eyes bore on yours between the valley of your legs, the air surrounding you both turning thicker. 

“Understood. I’m going to be touching you now.”

You nod, and then gasp when his hands actually touch the inside of your open thighs, a light caress to satiate the need to know how soft and plush you feel, and it’s exactly as much as you look. You suck in a breath slowly, and Shirabu lets his fingers slide up to your hot center.

“I’ll start with the pelvic exam. If you feel any pain or discomfort, just say so.” You nod and he starts slowly, two gloved fingers carefully threading over the swollen labia with acute precision, circling motions as he caresses the underside of your most sensitive place and downwards, rounds the dripping wet entrance, and sliding back up, fingers opening in a “v” motion, a small twirl around the engorged nub above it all. “I’m making an exterior exam, any numbness?”

You nod your negative. Eyes barely holding themselves open, teeth sunk on your lips. “Tell me if you either don’t feel anything or feel anything hurting.”

“Okay,” it’s mostly a whine, breath leaving your mouth as soon as you open it. He descends a third finger over your sex, up and down circling motions that rip a groan from your throat.

“Does anything hurt?” Shirabu’s voice is collected, calm, a stark contrast to the throbbing length in his pants. “Numb?”

“I...don’t think so?” You’re trembling, voice breathless as the stirrups squeaking under the strain of your thighs and Shirabu’s other hand comes up, palm planting over your pelvis, feeling the soft skin and then pressing his palm on it.

“Doesn’t seem like you have a problem with sensibility.” He tries to reassure you as his fingers thread to your entrance, indicator slowly tracing the tight circle pulsating in front of his eyes. You’re dripping wet, soaking his gloves and all he can think is what a delicious little patient.

“I’ll be entering you now, okay? There’s no need for the speculum, so I’m performing a touch exam.” 

“Oh-kay, doctor,” comes your little gruff voice, putty under his hands and opening up nicely for his fingers when he presses inside. You’re tight, wonderfully so, clinging to his gloved fingers. Shirabu angles them up and deep, your blistering warmth spreading from his digits to his arm and then his whole body. 

He’ll have to find a way to “test” you there, as well.  He doesn’t retreat his fingers, but he aims the motions of them inside and above, looking for the sensitive place that’s bound to make you-

“Ah!” 

There it is. Shirabu chuckles and rounds the place with his digits as your knees buckle inside then angling out, spreading wide. He retreats his fingers, rolling them with a little scissoring, then plunges deeper inside as an excuse of trying to reach your cervix. If only he could use his cock- that’d be way easier.

“And now?” Shirabu asks, wicked. “Any pain? Numbness?”

“N-uhnn-” You try to speak but choke on a soft moan, your hands flying to your face as you swallow and answer him back in a trembling tone, “No.”

“Anything else?” It’s teasing, clearly, but you don’t seem to notice it, dazed eyes searching for him as you wet your mouth before speaking.

“It feels… weird.”

“Really? ” Shirabu spreads his fingers a bit, rolls them to feel around your walls. “Why’s that?”

“I- I don’t know. It’s… good.”

“Hmmm… That’s interesting.” His gloved thumb descends over your labia, rolls over your clitoris with strict precision, fingers angling inside to meticulously hit that special place once again. The table squeaks under the strength of your buckling, open cunt pulsating around his fingers in plain view for his appreciative eyes. “You seem to be a bit oversensitive, not numb.”

“Is that- a problem?” You say between breaths as Shirabu’s thumb rolls over your clit. He’s astonished you don’t question any of his debatable moves, only looking at him with dazed, soft eyes. 

“Depends. Do you always leak like this? It can be a condition.” Shirabu presses his palm over your pelvic bone, angle his fingers meticulously and swirl your clitoris with his thumb in firm precision. You moan and immediately recoil in embarrassment, mouth agape in your own surprise. Shirabu scissors his fingers in a rotating motion, inside and out for barely a few seconds and your spine arches off the table, mouth falling in a wide “o” as you tremble on his examination table.

Delicious.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?”

“No,” you answer in a breath.

Shirabu palms his length to release the pressure, cock straining at the soft expression of rapture on your eyes. “Everything seems good inside; But maybe you’re sensitive. I’ll keep that in mind for the next exams.”

“Is it… done?”

“Almost.” Shirabu smiles, but it's a be-ready-for-trouble one. “All we need is the ultrasound for the internal exam.”

“I thought you had just-”

“This one was the touch one, the next one is done with the ultrasound equipment. It will be inserted inside and then I’ll be able to take a good look at your uterus health.”

“Oh, okay.”

You seem focused on catching your breath as your stretched hole keeps winking at him, as if begging for more. Unfortunately, Shirabu has to move on. He pulls the equipment table close, moves the screen to the side and at a fairly inaccessible angle for your eyes. The transducer reminds a wand, long, shaped anatomically thin with a slightly larger head, barely two-fingers girth. 

“Have you ever orgasmed before? Sensitive dysfunction can make it harder for women to achieve sexual gratification.”

“I… actually don’t know…”

Shirabu slides a condom on it, drops a generous amount of lube over it and then turns to you with a smile. Your legs twitch and your walls clench and he has a strike of brilliance right there as he eyes the pretty furl of muscle under your pleading pussy.

You yelp as he brings a lubed finger to draw rings over your rear, embarrassed eyes quickly searching for his.

“Doctor?!”

“Oh, sorry. The equipment goes in anally. Didn’t I mention that?”

“No?!” You groan, surprised, a soft breath escaping your lips.

“Sorry. I’m just preparing you, passing something to help it.” Shirabu explains, as a liar, and slowly work you open with his indicator pressing inside - carefully, slowly, with clinical precision until his whole knuckle is inside and your breathing is labored, open pussy throbbing for something he can’t give it to you just yet. How precious. “I’m inserting it now. Please tell me if it hurts.”

Shirabu angles the device on the lubed hole and watches, enthralled, as your ass swallows it’s wider head whole with just the first push, the rest of the body following easily as the tight ring presses the overflowing lube out. Fuck. Shirabu’s cock is weeping uncontrollably inside his slacks and he carefully brings a hand to help with the tightness of his pants, opening it enough to allow his thick length to escape free, but still covered by his lab coat.

Then Shirabu presses the device deeper, the angle sharp. He brings the receptor over your belly, presses way to closer to the apex of your sex. “Does it hurts?”

“No,” you breathe out, dazed.

“Does it feel good?”

“...Yes,” you sigh.

“Hmmm, interesting.” Shirabu retreats it, pretending to angle it somewhere else. He moves the equipment a bit more and your knees tremble as your pussy starts to drip on the floor. Jesus, that’s fucking hot. He leaves the receptor over your skin to fly his hand to his cock, slowly pumping it to relieve the throbbing ache. You’re way too lost in your own pleasure to notice his, and that only makes him more feral.

“You can feel something entering you now, but it’s just another equipment,” Shirabu says as he abandons his aching cock to slide two fingers inside your pleading hole, instead. He’s not even sure you understood his warning. Cute. 

“Doctor,” you breathe, almost panicked and Shirabu rolls his thumb over your clit to hear you yelp, your ass tight around the transductor as he scissors his fingers on your wide-open cunt.

“Yes?” 

“I feel... “ You sound so wrecked and lost, a shiver wandering down Shirabu’s spine as his throat bobs. Your pussy throbs around his fingers, begging for something it can’t even pinpoint. Poor thing.

“Pain?” 

“No? Something… else.” Such a cute breathless voice, chest heaving with rabbit-fast beats that Shirabu almost can feel on his fingers deep inside your soaking walls. 

“Pleasure?” He offers, fighting the need to smile at how your confused expression, brows furrowed as you try to think of another word but come ultimately short.

“I…” You start but bite your lips to hold the noise at how he aims at your special spot. Then blink twice, still losing the fight against the thick pleasure fog in your mind. “I guess?”

“Wow.” You’re so honest. Shirabu’s surprise is fairly genuine. He hopes his tone sounds more understanding than completely hungry. “Well… It’s not unusual for patients to feel arousal by exams considering their invasive nature. It’s okay, don’t panic.”

“But,” You start, tense and writhing, but Shirabu stands up, the equipment in your ass changing angle but his eyes are finding yours in the distance. 

“It’s okay,” Shirabu repeats and you listen, hazed eyes focused entirely on him. “Take a deep breath.” 

You obey so well, mouth opening as you breathe deep, chest filling even when Shirabu slowly edges the equipment out of your tight asshole. The fingers inside your pussy don’t stop, though, and he brings his other hand, now free, to aid him in wrecking you. “Now surrender to it. Let it wash over you…” 

“I…” You whine and tense, but then his two hands are gliding over every erogenous zone on your labia with acute expertise, and you let go, bones essentially melting under his ministrations; letting out a soft, obedient, won over, “Okay.”

“Good girl.” He tells you and rotates his fingers in and out, keeping you nice, wet and wide. You’re close. Shirabu can feel it in how you’re swelling around him. “You’re an amazing patient, Miss. Just do as I say and I’m telling you to cum.” That does it, as your head angles back, hands holding yourself and the table as you take a deep breath.

“Yes, doctor,” You whisper and moan, surrendering to the intense orgasm that pulses suddenly through you and quivers around his fingers. It’s beautiful to watch you come undone, legs trembling sharply as they’re held wide open, pussy fluttering in a wave of wetness that joins the puddle on the ground, mouth open as your tongue slides past it, eyes rolling inside your skull and probably seeing white. 

Shirabu never feels tired of it, finally angling himself to bend over your frame, mouth looking for yours quickly as he breaks character.

“Keijiro,” you sigh, pleasure-drunk and Shirabu licks over your open lips, bites on your jaw, sucks the skin to leave his marks. 

“Yes, love.” He answers against your pulse point and you lets out a satisfied sigh by his ear.

“That was amazing.”

“You think so?” Shirabu rolls his hips against your bare, soaked wet pussy, and his free cock rolls deliciously between the lubricated folds. “I’m just starting, though, Miss. I think you’ll need a more thorough exam, though. With special equipment too.” He brings his hand to angle his cock on your entrance, eyes locked on yours as you blink and smile, blissed out and pleading. Shirabu presses himself inside and you throw your head back in bliss, hands planting on his shoulders with sharp nails aiming for his skin. “Such a good patient I have. Open wide, love.” 

You arch your head back to look up at him, mouth falling open on command, for Shirabu to do as he pleases. You, wide open on his table, for him to do as he pleases. He’s your husband after all and you’ve learned from a long time that what pleases Dr. Shirabu Kenjiro the most is picking you apart piece by piece, white bliss searing your every nerve-end as you fall and shatter for him, drowning under his thumb as he holds you down waves of pleasure, dragging you like the tide - strong and unyielding until it hurts to even breathe. 

The mere thought of having more makes your lips fall open in a moan, “yes, Doctor.” 

Because you love everything about that. 

[mousepsychologist]

With Aaron

Summary: Reader avoids Hotch after getting cleared for sex following a kidnapping incident because she is self-conscious about the scars left behind.

Pairing: soft!hotch X Female Reader

Content/warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI): Language, brief mentions of torture (similar to an episode of CM), brief mentions of knives and blood (as a means or result of aforementioned torture), mentions and descriptions of scars, insecurities, sexual content, oral sex: female receiving, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, praise, use of pet names and some fluff.

If I am missing anything please let me know!

Word count: 3,956

A/N: Submission for the @hotchafterhours Smutty One Shot Challenge. Also, this is the first fanfic I have ever written, so if it is super rough to read...my sincerest of apologies, and feel free to pretend this does not exist😅😂

Sex…

Sex with Aaron…

That is all you ever think about. You are absolutely consumed with the idea of being with Aaron.

You love sex with Aaron. You’ve been having sex with Aaron almost everyday for two years now and holy shit...it is the best sex you’ve ever had. It is so good that even when you shouldn’t be thinking about it...you definitely are.

When you innocently watch him twirl a pen between his thumb, pointer and middle fingers while thinking, all you can think about is how those long, thick fingers feel inside of you. Or, when you watch him sip his coffee, all you can think about is how those soft lips feel sucking and nipping at your bare skin.

However, anything he does, innocent or not, it always gets you going. So, you can’t fully blame him. But, you know Aaron, and some days you are sure he intentionally tries to get you squirming...even at work.

Everyone knows he is Mr. Professional and you think just the same but you also know that you are his achilles heel. So, if and when he wants to play games, well...you can be his checkmate.

You will rock a deep v-neck blouse that gives him the perfect view of your cleavage or a tight pencil dress that accentuates your ass because you know it will cause his face to falter or his breathing patterns to become erratic.

The two of you are the King and Queen of the sexual chess board. He knows how to move in ways that make you scream out in pleasure while you know how to sacrifice your pawns so he can seize control of the bedroom.

And as much as you love thinking about sex with Aaron or actually having sex with Aaron, you are able to sometimes keep your sexual thoughts at bay.

However, when you aren’t thinking about sex with Aaron, you are thinking about cuddling with Aaron, watching TV with Aaron, going on dates with Aaron, cooking with Aaron, laughing until you’re crying with Aaron and everything else in-between. Anything and everything that the two of you could possibly do together is always what you’re thinking about.

Your relationship with Aaron has never been just about sex. However, sex with Aaron has always been a sacred thing between the two of you. He treats your body like a temple. Not just any temple though...rather a temple he seems to have built himself.

He knows your body better than you do and how to make you feel like putty.

He knows how to interpret your moans as well as assess your temperament and determine whether you want to have playful or rough sex or, just softer, lazier sex.

And up until now, sex with Aaron has never been something you were nervous or self-conscious about.

---

Everything changed following your kidnapping two months ago where an unsub managed to hold you hostage for a week.

It was the worst week of your life. It was a long week that consisted of beatings, cigarette burns and knives being dragged up and down your body.

***Two Months Ago***

When the team came bursting into the basement you were being held in, you looked like a bruised, bloodied, mangled mess. You are hunched over and tied to a chair with your clothes barely hanging on by a thread. Your body is littered with both long and short knife marks, small and large bruises, and multiple cigarette burns.

As your team stormed the area, you were so disoriented that you didn’t even comprehend what was happening around you.

A large, calloused hand gently touches your shoulder. You flinch and the hand immediately retracts itself.

“Y/N...” he pauses. “Y/N… it’s me. It's Aaron.” His voice is so quiet, calm, and soothing.

You immediately relax. You have never been more relieved in your life. You blink a few times and your vision unblurs to see an unfamiliar Aaron.

He is so panicked and scared. You are sure you’ve never seen him this scared. He is also tired. So so tired. You are positive he hasn’t slept since you’ve gone missing.

He slowly places his hand back on your shoulder once he realizes that you know it's him. You're slightly shaking and exceptionally weak.

“Sweetheart, I need to carry you to the ambulance. Is that okay?”

You nod and go to straighten up but immediately wince and whimper in pain.

“Y/N, no, don’t move. I’ve got you”.

To pick you up he gently places an arm under your knees and another behind your back. It hurts but you find solace in his touch and the faint smell of his cologne. You bury your face deep into his chest and feel your tears surface as you start to sniffle.

Aaron immediately notices and places a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“Y/N, it's okay. I’ve got you.”

You press yourself further into him and grasp firmly at his shirt. Your tears start to come faster. “Please don’t leave me Aar. Please don’t go anywhere. I’m scared and I don’t want to be alone again.”

“Oh Love...it’s okay. You’re not alone. I am not going anywhere. I am right here. You have me. Always. I want you to forget everything and everyone else but me.”

You feel his grip on you tighten as you go unconscious.

That's the last thing you remember until you wake up in the hospital two days later.

---

***Present Day***

It has been 53 days since you have had sex with Aaron. But today is the day you are supposed to receive medical clearance from your doctor.

Up until this morning, all you wanted was to have sex with Aaron. Because of your doctor’s orders, Aaron wouldn’t give in to sex until you were cleared. You were totally okay with following the doctor’s orders but Aaron and you had decided that it was just best to not do anything remotely sexual until you were cleared.

So...for the last 53 days, the most the two of you have done is kissed and cuddled. No question about it, the two of you love to kiss and cuddle but...you also love to do SO...MUCH...MORE.

You understood where Aaron is coming from. He just wants you safe and healthy.

You, on the other hand, want so badly to be fucked by your boyfriend.

So, it’s safe to say that you are so excited to get cleared. You know Aaron is excited too... though he won’t admit it.

You have tried multiple times to get him off but it's never worked. You want to do it for him, but you selfishly need to have his large, veiny, cock deep in your throat. You want to taste him, to make him feel how he always makes you feel. You also miss the way his hips buck towards you causing you to choke on his pulsating dick.

But he never budged. And since he never did, this also meant that the two of you haven't seen each other naked in the last 53 days.

You miss his cock just as much as you miss his mouth sucking on your clit or having his hands pinch your nipples, but by waiting, you know that the first time back to having sex with Aaron will be worth the wait. As Aaron said it quite clearly one day, “Pretty girl, I’m going to make you cum so much that you won’t even be able to think straight. I may have to make you cum for every day you haven’t been able to.” He said this with a smirk and a wink, but you’re pretty sure he is not kidding.

...And damn it, you are so ready for it.

---

You wake up the morning of your appointment, and head to the bathroom to shower and get ready. This is what you’ve been waiting for. You are so excited to finally have sex with Aaron tonight. You take a little longer in the shower to prepare yourself. Using extra exfoliator, moisturizer and your more expensive shampoo and conditioner.

It isn’t until you step out of the shower and catch a glimpse of your naked body that your anxiety flares with a vengeance. Sure, a lot of the cuts and burns have healed and the bruises are long gone but there are still some scars that are still blatantly noticeable. They look so ugly, red and puffy.

The panic sets in at the thought of Aaron seeing you tonight. You feel the pressure of how tonight is supposed to go. You know Aaron loves you no matter what but that doesn’t silence the voices telling you otherwise.

A knock at the door pulls you from your self-deprecating thoughts. “Honey, are you almost ready?��

“Umm, ya. Just a sec.”

You quickly put your clothes on but your eyes never leave the mirror that is reflecting your damaged body. You exit your bathroom and head to the kitchen where Aaron is pouring two cups of coffee.

“Morning gorgeous.” You cringe at the name which you are sure he notices but he doesn’t acknowledge it and continues on. “You sure you don’t want me to come with you to your appointment?”

“No, it's okay. It shouldn’t take too long anyways.”

“Alright, my love. I will see you at work then.”

He walks up to you and kisses you gently. His hands lay on your hips and slowly take the ends of your sweater in them. You begin to feel his hands touch the skin just above your waistline and immediately grab both of them and pull away. He gives you a questioning look but before he can say anything you beat him to it.

“Babe, I really have to go. I don’t want to be late.” You place your hand on his cheek and give him a quick kiss on the lips. “I love you and I’ll see you later.”

You turn and walk out missing the clearly puzzled look on Aaron’s face.

---

You arrive at work a few hours later cleared to have sex again. And though you want to be excited, you aren't. You are so in your head that you don’t know what to do.

You know you can’t avoid Aaron so you walk into his office to tell him the “good” news.

Aaron hears you walk in and close the door. He quickly walks to you and kisses you before asking about the appointment. You inform him that you’re cleared and you panic more as you see the excitement spread across his face.

He cups one hand on your cheek while the other lays on your hip. He slowly starts to kiss you again. You love the taste of him. You can taste the coffee from this morning as his tongue makes its way into my mouth. Your hands go to his neck and begin tugging at his hair.

Aaron loves when you tug at his hair so you are not surprised when it elicits a few moans from him. And anytime a moan leaves those beautiful lips of his, it always runs straight to your core. You can feel your panties dampen as he sucks on your bottom lip and squeezes your hips.

You are so lost in this kiss and it’s the first time all day that you aren’t drowning in your thoughts.

You are in the moment and it's amazing.

The hand cupping your cheek moves to mimic his other hand squeezing your hip. You don’t even feel his thumbs rubbing the skin above your waistline and dipping under the top portion of your thong. You are so focused on rubbing your hands along his ribcage and chest. You love feeling his chest and tummy.

Aaron starts kissing down your jawline causing you to tilt your head back in pleasure. You can feel his soft lips dance their way down your neck. It's the stark contrast of his rough, calloused fingertips sliding up both sides of your ribcage that snaps you back to reality.

You quickly step away and readjust your blouse.

“Woah Y/N.” He gently grabs your wrists. “What is going on? What's wrong?” He asks with pleading puppy dog eyes.

“Nothing is wrong Aar. It’s just that we're at work with people around.”

“Okay, but that hasn’t stopped us in the past.” A slight smirk appears on his face.

“I know, but I would rather wait until we are home. Why don’t you come over to my place after work?” Hopefully being in the comfort of your own apartment will calm your nerves.

“I’d love to. I’ll meet you there as soon as I can.” He moves both hands to your cheeks and places a delicate kiss on your forehead.

“Sounds good. I just have a few more reports to finish before I head out.” You say as you head towards his office door.

“Alright, sweetheart. I’m looking forward to it!”

You can see the excitement on his face and hear the sweetness in his voice as you exit his office. The nerves fluttering in your stomach almost make you nauseous but you have to ignore your thoughts so you can focus on the remainder of the work day.

---

You are home for 30 minutes when Aaron finally enters your apartment. You're sitting on the bed, leaning up against the headboard with your knees tucked to your chest when you see Aaron’s broad shoulders lean against your door frame. You know you can’t keep up the facade any longer.

“Alright, Y/N. What's wrong? Something is clearly off with you. You’ve been distant all day today. If I did something wrong, please just tell me so I can fix it.”

The sincerity in his voice is almost too hard to handle. You can feel your eyes start to fill with tears but you don’t cry. You tilt your head down and stare at your fidgeting hands.

“It’s so bad, Aar.” As soon as those words left your mouth you knew that was the worst possible way to phrase the sentence.

Aaron immediately walks to the bed and sits cross-legged in front of you. The panic is evident in his eyes.

He grabs your wrists to move your arms up and begins touching along your stomach. His eyes are moving all over your body like a ball in a pinball machine.

He’s searching for an injury.

“What hurts Y/N? Let me see, please! I want to help fix it.” He’s so scared. You immediately feel guilty about how fast your words send him into panic mode but it's this caring nature that reassures you that Aaron loves you no matter what.

It's what finally gives you the strength to tell him how you feel.

“Nothing hurts, babe. I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to phrase it that way.” His face slowly begins to soften.

“Then what is it? I know something is wrong.”

“My scars, Aar. They are so bad. They are way redder and puffier than I thought they’d be at this point.” Your eyes are focused on your bedspread. Quite obviously avoiding the gorgeous ones you can feel piercing into you. “My entire torso is hideous...I just don’t want you to see it.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” His hands come up to cup both of your cheeks.

You cut him off before he can continue. You need to tell him the whole truth.

“I know it’s dumb but I have this fucking voice in my head telling me that you are going to be bothered by them and less attracted to me. Which I wouldn’t blame you because I am already thinking the same thing about myself.”

“Please, Y/N. Please don’t ever think that I would ever find you unattractive for any reason. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I love everything there is about you and nothing could ever change that.” He says this reassuringly while placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

You can feel your anxiety slowly dissipate. “I know you do. I have just been so nervous thinking about you seeing them for the first time tonight. Plus, we’ve been talking about having sex so much once I got cleared and I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“Y/N.” He says with such conviction that you force yourself to look into his eyes. “I need you to know that we do not need to have sex tonight, tomorrow night or anytime soon.” His hands are now gently rubbing up and down your arms from your shoulders to elbows. “We will go at whatever pace you’re comfortable with. And that will always be the case.” He pauses and lightly squeezes your arms. “Whether following an injury or not, okay.”

“I know, Aar. And you don’t know how appreciative I am of that and how happy I am to have someone as caring and supportive as you in my life.” You gently grab his face and place a tender kiss on his lips.

The love you feel for Aaron is all consuming. He has managed in a matter of minutes to dilute your anxiety to almost nothing. Now, all you feel is this intense rush of passion for the love of your life.

The kiss starts to develop into something much more needy. You both are fighting for dominance but you quickly relent and let his tongue invade your mouth. His large hands make their way to your hair where they lightly tug and pull.

Your hands are now on his shoulders pulling him on top of you while simultaneously working to unbutton his dress shirt.

You feel him hesitate and look down at you. “Y/N, are you sure?”. His eyes have never looked so intently at you.

“Yes, I am sure.”

That’s enough for him to abruptly continue kissing you. Your eyes are now closed as you lose yourself once again in an unforgettable kiss with Aaron Hotchner.

You are obsessed with how he tastes and you continue to feel yourself relax as you breathe in his pine scented cologne. The smell has and always will make you feel at home.

Aaron slowly removes your top and stops all of his movements which leads you to opening your own eyes.

You see him staring at your stomach which brings all of your insecurities to the forefront.

You feel yourself moving to cover your stomach when Aaron catches them and pushes each to the side.

“You are so beautiful Y/N. I can’t believe I get to have someone as beautiful, kind, intelligent, and courageous as you in my life. So please don’t ever try to hide yourself from me.”

The genuineness exuding from him is enough to melt all your anxieties. You know that you want him no matter what.

“Thank you, Aar. I love you so much and I don’t know what I did to deserve a man like you.”

“I love you too, sweet girl.”

His soft lips return to you. He slowly makes his way nipping and sucking at the skin from your neck to your breast. He begins to suck on your nipple while massaging the other with his large hand. His teeth graze over your nipple causing a ripple effect down your spine.

You love feeling his warm breath and wet tongue move across your already hard bud. Aaron tends to your other breast with his mouth before moving down your torso.

He begins to gently kiss each of your scars. You feel your stomach nervously tighten.

Aaron, as always, senses how your body briefly tenses.

“It’s okay, Love. I am right here with you. I want you to forget everything and everyone else but me.”

You feel your body relax. “I am okay, I promise. Please Aaron.” You beg with a quiet whimper. “I need you.”

His lips continue moving down to where you need him most as he removes your pants and thong. No matter your insecurities, you always seem to be needy for all things Aaron. So it's no surprise that you are already wet from only being kissed by him.

Aaron’s tongue moves further down so he can tease your clit. The action causes you to squirm beneath him. As much as you love his mouth on you and feeling him lick and suck on your clit, you need more.

“Aar, please…” you moan and arch your back off the bed.

“What do you want Y/N? Tell me and I will make it happen.” He responds while inserting two fingers into you.

He is curling his finger inside of you while continuing to suck on your clit. Your breathing has increased significantly along with your moans.

“Aaron…please. Please I need you inside of me.”

In an instant he grabs your legs and pulls you towards him. Once your legs are wrapped tightly around his waist, he pulls his already hard cock out of his boxers and begins to line it up with your core. He teases your entrance with his tip before he finally thrusts into you.

He fills you so well as he thrusts in and out. You can feel yourself climb towards your release with every thrust.

“Fuck, Y/N. You feel so good.” His pace quickens and becomes a little harder but he holds you like you are the most precious thing to walk the earth.

“I’m so close, Aar.”

“I know, baby. Let go, I’ve got you.”

That’s all you need to fall apart. Your body tenses before spasming uncontrollably. Your back is arched as Aaron continues to thrust into you to help ride out your high. It doesn’t take much longer for him to find his release as well.

You both try to ride out your highs as long as possible. The two of you are breathing heavily and a slight layer of sweat is now covering your bodies.

You gently begin dragging your nails up and down Aaron’s back as he is still laying on top of you. While still trying to come back to earth, he pulls out of you and rolls over to your side.

You miss the feeling of having him inside of you when he rolls over but the emptiness is quickly replaced as his arm is draped across your waist and is used to pull you to him. You are now laying more on him than the bed with your head nestled on his chest.

Aaron presses gentle kisses to the top of your head. “You okay, Y/N?”

“I’m perfect.” You are so at peace laying on his chest listening to his steady heartbeat.

Aaron is rolling the ends of your hair between his fingers as you continue to cuddle into him. “Okay, good. Are you sure that wasn’t too much this time?”

“It was perfect. I promise I would tell you if I wasn’t okay.”

“Alright, I just want you to be happy and comfortable no matter what.”

“I know, Love and I love you so much for that. You always make me feel amazing, especially when it comes to sex.” You giggle as you sit up to place a gentle kiss on his nose.

“Well, I am glad you enjoy it because I owe you 52 more when you're ready.” A devilish smirk is now plastered on his face.

“52 what?” Your puzzled look causes him to laugh.

“Orgasms, pretty girl.”

“52 orgasms!” Your eyes damn near pop out of your skull.

“Oh yes, 52...and not one less.”

And in this moment, well...all you can think about is 52 perfect orgasms with Aaron.

[extasiswings]

“i’ll keep you warm” eddie has a nightmare post-shooting 👀 (or however you wanna write it!)

This was not supposed to be this long...rated M-ish for some mild smut at the end. On ao3 here.

The thing Eddie remembers most about the shooting isn’t the shot itself, or the pain, or even the fear—it’s the cold. The icy numbness of shock curling down his spine, twisting through his veins like tendrils of frost creeping across a windowpane in winter. Cold, as his pulse skyrocketed, his body’s signals all crossed and confused and trying to circulate blood, not seeming to grasp the fact that his blood was seeping out onto the asphalt beneath him, that trying to circulate it faster was just making it worse. Cold, like he was a stupid kid at camp diving into a frigid lake before dawn, except above him was blue sky and a bright sun beating down and the fact that it was Los Angeles in May didn’t do a damn thing to help.

He couldn’t feel it. He could only feel the cold.

Buck, though—Buck, he felt. Buck’s hands burned, on his chest, his neck, his face, so warm that Eddie almost wanted to flinch away, but he didn’t. He was aware enough to realize that if Buck was warm, he was probably telling the truth when he said he wasn’t hurt. And that was good. That was all he needed to know.

The cold—

Eddie’s been through enough in his life to know that his subconscious works in weird ways. After Afghanistan he dreamed more directly of burning helicopters and gunfire, blood in his mouth and smoke on his tongue. Shadows and screams and guilt. After the well his dreams were of Christopher, Shannon, waves crashing on a beach. And Buck. Sunlight.

This time...this time Eddie dreams of drowning. Trapped beneath ice, his hands slamming against it, eventually forced to inhale—water flooding his mouth, his throat, his lungs—cold, cold, cold—

Sometimes after he wakes he’ll spend hours shivering. Phantom chills that won’t go away even when he wraps himself in blankets.

The therapist he’s mandated to see before he can be cleared for work tells him that the brain doesn’t always process trauma by taking the most direct path. Eddie doesn’t know why his has fixated on this. The cold. Maybe it’s just easiest. Because the shooting—

His chest gets tight when he’s walking in open air. Sweat breaks out across his brow when the sunlight glints off of windows. His pulse races.

He can’t breathe.

It feels a little like drowning.

“Do you feel safe?” Dr. Kingston asks one session. And Eddie thinks about freezing in a grocery store parking lot, gripping the edge of a cart to keep his hands from shaking, thinks about Buck curving a hand around his shoulder, solid and warm—

“Sometimes,” Eddie admits. “It depends.”

“Depends on what?”

He tastes the lie on his tongue before it slips out.

“I don’t know.”

*

When the world shut down and Eddie had to leave Christopher with his abuela so that he could keep working without worrying constantly that he was putting his son at risk, Buck’s was the obvious place to go. And Eddie doesn’t know if things would have been different if it had been just the two of them but Hen and Chim deciding it was also the obvious place for them to go meant there weren’t a lot of options for sleeping arrangements.

So Eddie shared the bed with Buck. And it didn’t matter if either of them wound up wrapped around the other, the lines of their bodies pressed close enough to bleed together. If they curled into one another like plants twisting to find the light.

It was...instinct. To seek comfort. Warmth. Touch. Both of them alone for so long, and just needing—

Needing.

They never talked about it—there wasn’t anything to talk about. If it made Eddie’s heart race, if it made him ache for something he hadn’t expected and didn’t wholly understand, if when he returned home alone again his own bed felt too empty, that was his own problem.

Now, though—

Now, he knows. Because he stood frozen on the street and stared at Buck with Carla’s words in his head—make sure you’re following your heart—and realized oh. It hadn’t just been convenience, it had been love. Need and desire and love.

Now, he knows, but doesn’t know what to do with that knowledge, with the awareness he has suddenly. Buck is living in his house, in his space, helping him with Christopher and with his own recovery, making sure he takes his meds and gets to his appointments and does his exercises. Buck is there all the time and it’s a blessing and a curse because Eddie burns whenever Buck touches him.

And Buck touches him. A lot.

He hadn’t at first, right after Eddie came home from the hospital—Eddie would catch him sometimes looking like he wanted to, but holding back, reaching out but stopping himself, and Eddie never asked why. Even now he doesn’t think he ever needed to—he knows what it’s like to be afraid, to be unsteady, adrift, worrying that touching something you expect to be solid will reveal it’s just an illusion. Not wanting to find out if it is.

But Buck touches him now. And sometimes Eddie will wake up to find that Buck’s migrated from the couch in the living room to a chair by his bed, folded in and fitfully asleep. Buck never says, but Eddie’s pretty sure it’s so Buck can reassure himself that Eddie’s still breathing.

Eddie understands that need too. Sometimes he isn’t sure himself.

The first time it happens after Buck’s relationship with Taylor has flamed out—for himself, he and Ana have been over since just after he left the hospital—Eddie finally just gets up.

“Buck.” He curves a hand around the side of Buck’s neck and passes his thumb along the edge of his jaw.

Buck startles awake, looking somehow guilty.

“I didn’t wake you up, did I? Sorry, I know it’s—I can go back to the—”

“Will you just come to bed?” Eddie interrupts before Buck successfully talks himself into leaving the room. “Please?”

Buck’s eyes flick down to his shoulder. He swallows hard.

“I don’t want to—”

Oh.

“You won’t hurt me,” Eddie promises. “Okay?”

Buck searches his face in the dark, but if he sees anything, he clearly doesn’t mind because he nods and gets up from the chair. When they both resettle on the mattress, Buck only pauses for a moment before curving around him like a parenthesis, his arm falling across Eddie’s waist.

Eddie’s breath catches.

“Is this—?”

Eddie closes his eyes and sinks into the embrace. If it feels just a little bit like cheating because he hasn't told Buck how he feels, that’s between him and god.

“It’s fine,” he assures, then adds to make it a little more fair, “you aren’t the only one who needs—you aren’t the only one.”

Buck relaxes at that, his grip tightening a little with newfound certainty.

When Eddie dreams, he doesn’t drown.

*

“You look good,” Dr. Kingston acknowledges two weeks later. “You’ve been sleeping better?”

“Yeah,” Eddie replies. “I stopped having nightmares, so I haven’t been waking up as much.”

He catches the surprise that flickers across her face.

“They stopped completely?” She asks. “Have you been doing something different or—?”

Eddie shifts in his chair and clears his throat. What is he supposed to tell her? That he stopped having nightmares when he started sleeping with Buck every night? He’s not really ready to unpack that with his therapist—he’s barely ready to unpack it in his own head.

“Just lucky, I guess,” he says. Dr. Kingston puts down her pen and levels him with a long look that tells him she knows that’s bullshit and is trying to decide whether to push or let it go until another time.

She lets it go.

“Well,” she replies. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Eddie feels like he’s dodged another bullet.

Later, though, he wonders if he shouldn’t have said more. If he shouldn’t have asked questions. Because he goes to sleep and—

The water is pitch black and freezing. Eddie’s eyes sting, but it doesn’t matter whether he keeps them open or not—there’s nothing to see. He kicks his legs anyway, swims up, up, up, even though it hurts to make his limbs work when they’re so cold. There’s a faint light—the surface—and he kicks harder, desperate to reach—

Ice. Nothing but a sheet of ice, solid and thick. His lungs burn from lack of air, his palms beat against the ice—

He can’t keep moving. It’s too cold. He can’t—

“Eddie. Eddie.” Hands seize him from nowhere, almost too warm, and Eddie could have sworn the ice had no cracks, but he’s being lifted out—

“Eddie.”

He snaps awake, gasping. Buck’s face swims into view, worry painted across every line. His hands are on Eddie’s shoulders.

They’re so warm.

Eddie shivers.

“You were hyperventilating,” Buck says. “I thought—”

“Just a dream,” Eddie grits out, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. He still feels frozen. Stupid—it was a dream, it wasn’t real, so he shouldn’t—it shouldn’t be this difficult.

He shivers again.

Buck’s brow furrows deeper.

“You’re shaking—are you cold?”

Eddie sits up and scrubs his hands over his face. He swallows back the denial on his tongue, the urge to run away and hide in the bathroom until a scalding shower makes him feel somewhat human again. Maybe he can’t always be honest with his therapist, but he can be honest with Buck.

“Yes,” he admits. “But it’s not—it’s just in my head. When I got shot I—it’s hard to explain but, yes. I’m cold. Freezing. I don’t know how—”

He cuts off and Buck shifts on the mattress, reaches out slowly so Eddie has plenty of time to stop him if he doesn’t want to be touched, and finally wraps his arms around him, pulling Eddie firmly against his chest.

“I’ll keep you warm,” Buck says quietly. And Eddie—

Something in him cracks. Not like ice during a thaw, but resolve after too much time of being worn down, pressure applied in precisely the right spot. He’s raw and ragged and his scarred heart hardly feels like anything anyone should want, but he’s so tired of pretending he hasn’t been trying to press it into Buck’s hands for a year in different ways. He’s tired of not asking and being afraid and waiting. He’s tired—

Buck makes a soft sound of surprise when Eddie kisses him. But he doesn’t push him away. And Eddie can’t help himself from pressing closer, curling one hand into Buck’s shirt and the other around the back of his neck and kissing him again and again and again, feeling altogether too frantic. He’ll probably find it in himself to be embarrassed in the morning, but want and desperation have left very little room for shame at the moment.

Buck kisses him back. His hands drop to Eddie’s hips as Eddie does his best to climb into his lap.

“Eddie,” Buck pants between kisses. “Eddie—I—” His head falls back and Eddie takes the opportunity to continue his exploration down the exposed line of Buck’s neck.

“Should we talk about this?” Buck finally manages, even as his own hands flirt with the hem of Eddie’s shirt.

Eddie freezes. The answer, of course, is yes. But talking is the last thing he wants to do when part of him still feels chilled to the bone, not wholly alive. He wants to be touched, wants to be consumed, wants to fall into orbit around Buck’s sun and never leave.

And it’s late. Dark. The two of them, the bed, the very room caught in a liminal space where anything could happen, anything could be said, anything could be forgiven. Eddie can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a dangerous one.

His mouth drags along the edge of Buck’s jaw.

“This isn’t because I wanted someone and you happened to be here, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He doesn’t look at Buck’s face. It’s easier to not, to focus on something else. He stopped going to confession a long time ago, but he never had to look directly at his priest either, always some curtain or other barrier obscuring things, lending the illusion of privacy, anonymity.

“I’m in love with you,” he admits, and Buck’s hands flex on his hips. “I’ve been in love with you. So we can talk about this if you want, but—”

In an instant, Eddie’s on his back, the rest of his sentence swallowed up by the tongue sliding into his mouth. Buck is a warm, solid weight on top of him, pinning him, anchoring him, and Eddie finds he doesn’t mind when it forces him to be in the moment, reminds him that he’s fully in his own body.

“I love you, too,” Buck whispers when the kiss breaks, and then he’s pushing Eddie’s shirt up and off and dispensing with his own—

Shannon was his first. Eddie wasn’t hers and he remembers being glad that at least one of them had some idea of what to do because the second she touched him he was so overwhelmed by sensation that he could hardly think.

This is…not dissimilar. Buck’s chest presses flush against his, all warm, bare skin, and Eddie feels like he could drown in a different way. He arches up, seeking Buck’s mouth again, and Buck obliges.

Eddie’s focus narrows to certain points—the slick slide of Buck’s tongue against his, Buck’s hand ghosting along his ribs, the careful space between their hips and the low burn of heat in his gut that makes him want to close the gap—

His hands slide up Buck’s back slowly, his fingers tracing the knobs of Buck’s spine, the sharp edges of his shoulder blades—they dance along the line of his shoulders too, sketching the breadth that he’s noticed but never allowed his thoughts to linger on. His touch is careful, reverent, as if Buck is a holy thing that his stained, sinner hands have no business touching. Perhaps, in a sense that’s true.

He’s never been a very good Catholic, but sex—sex, desire, love—sex has always been something…sacred to him. In high school, he shied away from the locker room-style conversations about who went how far with whom, kept out of any discussion involving lamentations about still being a virgin at graduation. For one thing, he thought they were usually crass and disrespectful. But mainly he just—he didn’t care about waiting until marriage or anything like that, but he always knew he wanted to be in love. Hence, Shannon. And why there hadn’t been anyone after her.

Until now.

Eddie kisses Buck until his lungs ache, but he’s not close enough, feels like he can’t get close enough. One of his hands slides into Buck’s hair, but the other trails back down, presses lightly on Buck’s lower back as his own hips rock up, seeking friction. Buck swears against his lips and closes the distance—Eddie can feel him hard in his sweatpants and flushes, dizzy at the thought of having made that happen, dizzy at the thought of more, dizzy—

He feels very much like a clumsy teenager again, fumbling his way through on instinct. At least this sort of thing is familiar, even if he hasn’t done it with a man before. Buck grinds their hips together, the friction sending sparks through every one of Eddie’s nerve endings, and kisses down his neck, teeth scraping over his pulse point. Eddie gasps and Buck hums, low and pleased, against his skin.

And then, just as he thinks he’s used to the slow burn of pleasure, Buck shifts his weight and slides a hand down to toy with Eddie’s waistband. Buck meets his eyes in the dark and swallows hard.

“Can I—?”

This time, when Eddie shivers it has nothing to do with the cold.

“Please,” he rasps, and Buck smiles before tugging Eddie’s pants down just enough to wrap his hand around Eddie’s cock.

Buck’s touch is a little tentative at first, clearly unused to the angle, and the part of Eddie that’s still capable of noticing that spends a brief moment feeling grateful that he’s not the only one lacking in experience here. But what Buck may lack in experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm, experimenting with grip and speed and pressure to figure out exactly what to do to make Eddie gasp again, to make him bite his lip, to make him hide his face in Buck’s shoulder to muffle any louder noises he can’t quite hold back.

It doesn’t take long. Even before the shooting, Eddie rarely bothered to touch himself with any sort of regularity, and during his recovery he had even less of a reason to do so, what little energy he had in the first few months better spent elsewhere. He hadn’t realized how badly he needed it. But clearly his body did because his orgasm hits him like a train when Buck spits into his hand for extra glide and twists his wrist on the upstroke. He bites Buck’s shoulder and Buck’s hips jerk and then he’s just floating—boneless, breathless, and utterly wrecked in the best possible way.

Buck collapses on the mattress next to him as Eddie’s catching his breath—Eddie reaches out, his hand skating over Buck’s stomach, and makes a questioning noise. Buck laughs quietly and catches his hand, bringing it to his lips.

“I, uh—I’m good,” Buck promises, and even in the dark Eddie can see his cheeks flush.

Eddie curls into his side. “Really?”

Buck kisses him. “I don’t think you realize how long I’ve wanted to do that. Or how good you look. So, yes, I already—yes. Really.”

Eddie’s lips curve up. He presses a kiss to the edge of Buck’s jaw. As the immediate aftermath wears off, his eyelids start to grow heavy, his limbs moving a little less easily.

“We should probably shower,” he acknowledges, although the strength of the statement is likely diminished by the yawn that interrupts him halfway through.

“Probably,” Buck agrees, but he too makes no move to actually get up.

Pressed against him as he is, Eddie is warm and sated and content. He drifts, skirting the edge of sleep.

“I love you,” he says again. Because it feels important.

Buck hums. If he says something else, it’s too low for Eddie to catch.

When he dreams again, he doesn’t dream of drowning. He doesn’t dream of the cold.

Instead, there’s just light. Just warmth.

Just Buck.

[moonrazeeclipse]

Day at the Amusement Park.

The last time I went to an amusement park was when I was 12 years-old. My memories have been mostly shaky, but what I can remember was the happiness and joy I felt with my mother and father.

It’s been tough for me to have fun these days. Being a 23 year-old working a typical nine-to-five shift made it difficult to have time for myself. Stressed about the quotas, the numbers, job stability, and everything else in between. Good sleep has eluded me for months.

Then I look at my girlfriend, Nicha, and my hope has never been brighter.

Ah, Nicha. Everyone else knew and recognized her as Minnie, but the closest to her called her by her real name. If I thought an average office job was a grindfest, then hers was a gauntlet. Idol life meant she had to be up as early as 3 A.M. and she’d run through several sets of makeup, practice, interviews, and appearances. During one of her off days she and her members visited my building while I just so happen to be on coffee break. One funny stare and the next thing I knew, we were hiding our relationship from the whole world.

No matter how exhausted she got, she kept that same positive, happy energy as if she had unlimited battery life. Each occasional glance as I drove to the old amusement park, she was beaming, singing along to the songs on the radio, like she were a child. This was one of her rare off days where they didn’t have any schedules, so maybe that’s the reason why she’s extra joyful too.

The park itself hadn’t changed much since I last visited all those years back. The entrance looked rusted and devoid of any life or color. There seemed to be way fewer people visiting as well. Nicha offered to take me to that newer park with those virtual reality simulators, but I turned it down with a chuckle, saying that I wasn’t making enough money to spend a day there. Regardless, we entered the place, her hand holding mine, dragging me with the brightest smile on her face.

Whatever she wanted to do, I followed along. Nicha ran ahead of me, acting like a child and not a famous, recognizable idol. Being around me must be freeing for her; she could be herself when I’m with her. None of the rides were renovated or refashioned, which gave me that nostalgic feel. Because there weren’t that many visitors, waiting only took less than ten minutes for each ride. Despite my motion sickness, I powered through the first roller coaster without a problem. The second one? I recalled hurling up minutes after getting off that one as a child. Nicha screamed her heart out on the first coaster, but was overcome by fear on the second. She leaned into my chest while I was fighting every urge not to puke mid-ride. I sought a barf bag once we got off, making her laugh.

“Ahaha! You look hilarious!” Nicha mocked.

“Why are you gloating? Don’t act like you were hiding your face on my chest.” I retorted. She blushed in embarrassment before pretending to run away. No matter how much she loved to make fun of me, I couldn’t get upset. Her wholesome smiles made her a great person to hang out with.

Walking along the park, we came across a row of booths. These booths offered challenges in exchange for prizes. Dad won me a basketball as a reward back then. Even with age, one of the game masters somehow recognized me by my eyes.

“Hey, hey! It’s been a long time! You’re all grown now!” He said, calling my attention.

“Oh, hey. How did you recognize my face?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You have your father’s eyes, that’s why! How’s he doing?” He changed the subject.

“Umm, great I guess.” I honestly didn’t know how to answer, since I haven’t spoken to him in years.

Nicha suddenly came in from behind and hugged me. The game master’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“Oh! Is this your girlfriend? Why don’t you step up and show her your father’s talent?” He challenged me on the spot. I sighed as Nicha moved right next to me. Her beaming eyes and bright smile gave me more pressure to do well.

I was poor at sports, so I wondered how bad I’d mess up at ring toss. I didn’t have deft hands like my dad, and I wasn’t practicing at all. I’m better with keyboards, I murmured under my breath as he gave me the rings. First toss. The ring hit the bottle. My eyes widened. Second toss. The bottle was a little more distant than the first. I threw the ring and to my surprise, it hit too. Shock drowned out my girlfriend’s cheers and the yell of the game master. One more ring, one more toss. The bottle was placed at a greater distance compared to the earlier ones. I was doing better than I thought, so maybe my luck would run out on this turn. I flung the last ring, and time seemingly slowed down as I released it from my grip.

One, two, three, four, five. Bingo.

Nicha hugged me in celebration. I made all three tosses as the game master applauded me. Wow. Honestly, that may have been divine intervention, considering how awful I am at these games. It must have been five minutes before I moved because I stayed frozen in place, unable to let my victory sink in.

“You do have your father’s genes in you after all! Go ahead and pick a prize.” The game master said, snapping me back to reality.

I turned to Nicha, implying that she could choose the prize. She took the hint and pointed at a gigantic brown teddy bear. The game master grabbed it from the shelf and handed it over to me. I gave the stuffed animal to her, and she buried her face on its belly.

“Aaahh it’s so fluffy! You’re really good at this, Minki!” She cuddled the bear as I just chuckled and waved goodbye to the game master.

The rest of our day at the park was just riding the rest of the attractions and eating an ice cream sandwich along the way. Nicha and I had so much fun together, refusing to let go of the teddy bear. The sun had set and nightfall came, and our time was almost up. But before we left, there was one more ride we hadn’t gone in. The ferris wheel.

The passenger cabins were suited for four people, so we hopped on one, including our stuffed animal. She placed the bear next to her as the wheel began moving. From where I sat I could see the bright lights of the highway, overlooking the specks of people thousands of feet in the air. Nicha looked out the window before turning to me, taking my hand.

“I’ve had so much fun with you today,” she said, caressing my hand gently and pecking it. “Thank you.”

I gazed into her eyes, gleaming brighter than the stars in the night sky. She stared back at me, looking at me the same way. Then something sprung in me to lock lips with her. Nicha sunk into the kiss, pulling me close and our tongues swirled with each other. She was sweeter and tastier than dessert. I cupped her cheek and she placed her palm on mine, running it across her face.

She broke the kiss and slowly spread my legs. I panicked a little because of the situation we’re in. Nicha feigned ignorance and unbuttoned my pants, pulling them down alongside my boxers.

“Nicha! We’re still in public, remember?”

“Your cock says otherwise,” she replied, slapping my hardened cock with her hand. “I’ve been missing you so much. I can’t help myself.”

She seized my balls, giving them a rub. “You’re full. You’ve been missing me too.”

I groaned as she kissed me from my balls, making her way up to my tip. Her soft lips felt so good on my shaft. She looked at me with widened eyes, satisfied with the pleasure she’s giving me. I slumped into my seat and closed my eyes, allowing the euphoria of her swirling tongue to override my brain. If that wasn’t enough, she added her sensual moans into her slurps, giving me tingles up my spine.

My hands flowed through her black locks, while the rest of my body just numbed in pleasure. I didn’t realize she took me in her mouth, hollowing her cheeks. Nicha bobbed her head back and forth, coating my shaft with her saliva. We didn’t care if anyone caught us in the lewd act. Nicha had her way with me and my body happily fell under control.

Pop. She released me from her mouth after blowing me off for a while. I was really sinking into that excitable feeling too. Appropriate timing too, as she finished up just as the car was about to reach ground level. I quickly buttoned up my pants as she pretended like she didn’t suck my cock leaving the pod.

We reached my car just as the park was closing, and she gave me a few pecks on the cheek. “When we get home, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

“Sure, baby. I’ll let you fuck me wherever you want.” The thought of her splayed body already riled me up and I couldn’t be any more excited to drive home.

I turned the key. Rough gruffs roared from the engine. Again. Gruffs. In frustration I slapped my hands against the steering wheel. The car couldn’t start. Fuck.

“I just had it checked last week,” I grumbled. It was second hand but I didn’t have any excuse. Nicha giggled. She was still smiling as she watched me suffer and curse my car out. Oh, no matter how terrible a day gets, you’re always the jovial one.

Conveniently there was a subway station nearby whose line started and ended at the park. We both got out of the car and decided to take the train home. Nicha still refused to let go of the teddy bear.

Entering one of the cars, we sat at the back end of the left row. All the walking wore our legs out, so I slumped down in my seat. Nicha set the bear at the corner chair before sitting beside me. Drowsiness began kicking in and soon enough, I fell into a deep sleep holding my girlfriend’s hand tightly.

I felt a sensation below my chest that woke me up. My eyes opened slowly, vision blurring my sight. I looked to my left and saw only the teddy bear. She probably went to the bathroom, I thought. I tried going back to sleep, but I felt that twitching in my stomach again. I looked down and to my surprise, my pants were on the ground. Nicha was on her knees, sucking my erect cock.

“Nicha! What did I say about doing this in public?” I whispered, trying to avoid causing a disturbance with the nearby passengers.

She responded by taking more of me into her mouth, making me moan with her humming sounds. “Mmph, I can’t help myself. Your cock rubbed on me as we slept.”

It took all of my willpower not to submit to pleasure, but I was able to scout the area. There weren’t a lot of people on this late train ride home, except a man wearing a business suit calling someone on his phone seated on the opposite aisle.

I slowly hopped from one chair to the next using the rail, keeping Nicha busy on my shaft without her letting go into it. My free hands lifted the stuffed bear from its seat and placed it to where I was sitting. The prized toy was huge enough to act as camouflage from unsuspecting train-goers.

“Yeah. Let’s discuss the business trip to Japan at the cafe. I’ll move up so you can spot me as I get off,” the man said as he stood up from his seat and trudged to the front.

I sighed a breath of relief, but that was only a temporary win. I looked below to see how Nicha was doing and my eyes widened. She stripped off her overalls as her bare legs were now exposed.

“Nicha!” I almost screamed, panicking at the situation she’d got us into. She giggles at my reaction before kissing my tip with her soft lips.

“While you were busy covering us up I took my overalls off. I really can’t wait for you to fill me inside.” She said matter-of-factly.

I groaned in annoyance but I couldn’t help myself. She was opening herself and I guess my patience ran out too.

“We still have a few more stops to go before our stop,” She added, stroking me with her fingers.

My psyche crumbled under her control again. I resisted her lips, but not her hands rapidly pumping my cock. I threw my head back and allowed the pleasure to jack my brain, grazing my hands on her hair again.

I must have drowned deeply to the delight of Nicha’s handjob that I ignored the dings and voice of the operator over the speaker indicating the train’s destination. My eyes, struggling to open, somehow caught a glimpse of a few new passengers entering the car. Quickly I bent over and took her overalls as well as my large coat and veiled my crotch. She continued jerking me off under the covers, eager to get me to orgasm. The commuters gave me either  weird or neutral looks as they walked by. I gave them a gaze of exhaustion, pretending as if I was ill. I just hope they didn’t notice the suspicious bulge below me.

Most of the travelers moved onto another cabin but some of them sat a few rows behind or ahead of ours. Thankfully none decided to sit in the same aisle as us. My hands, which were positioned on my lap, were grabbed by Nicha. She led it down to her clit and I felt her wetness. Even with some bush she was clearly dripping.

“Fuck me, please,” She whispered, each word laced with lust. “I’m so wet for you, babe.”

I hoisted her from the floor and she wrapped her legs around my waist as I rose for a minute before sitting down with her on me. I carefully lined my shaft against her crotch before burying my cock in her walls. She let out a lengthy, low moan as I started ramming into her tight pussy. My hands snuck through her shirt, pinching her taut nipples, making her squeal.

I could feel her juices cream my hair as I grinded back and forth, making sure she feels every inch of my length. One hand escapes her shirt to cover her mouth, preventing her from letting out wild screams. I pulled her face close to mine, her features indicating pleasure as our lips met for a shaky, passionate kiss.

As we continued making out my eyes caught a glimpse of a stewardess slowly making her way across the cabin, punching passengers’ tickets. I broke the kiss off and drove Nicha into my chest, bundling our bodies with her overalls and my coat. The attendant reached us, her formal smile shifting to a confused look at the weird image ahead of her.

“Oh I’m sorry, is she okay?” She asked matter-of-factly.

“Y-yeah. She’s just a little ill, so I’m warming her up, that’s all.” I answered, nodding repeatedly.

Nicha sold my act by freezing in my arms. I reached into my coat and pulled out two tickets. She punched them and smiled as she walked by, believing my lie.

My girlfriend looked me in the eyes, lust ridden over them. I squeal as her finger reaches my cock, still buried in her soaked cunt, stroking me off. Through the pleasant sensation I managed to keep my eyes alert, watching the passengers slowly leave one by one at the next stop. Now it was just the two of us in this cable car.

“We’re alone. Fuck me,” She said as the train started moving again.

Perhaps her eagerness drove me to thrust into her a lot faster than I thought. I rocked back and forth on the chair, drilling her with my shaft. Nicha closed her eyes and let the pleasure fill her, her mouth making a wide ‘O’ shape. At this point we ran out of care for our surroundings, made clear by our audible moaning. Her hands claw my nape and hair deeply, her slender figure bouncing up and down my lap.

The tightness of her pussy, as well as her soft, seductive moans made it hard for me to keep control. I was losing another round to her lewdness and this one would be the hardest of them all. I was all but ready to climax, only slowing down my pumps to keep the euphoria last longer.

“F-fuck, I’m going to cum,” I whispered.

“On me. Fill me, please. Fill me with your cum.”

One. Two. Three. With a heavy groan I reached my peak. I felt shots of warm semen fill her womb. I pumped through my orgasm, shooting flecks of cum in her until I was drained. My hips stopped grinding. I put my head down in exhaustion over that intense, risky session. She cupped my face then kissed me on the cheek.

“T-that was s-so g-good. I can’t wait until we get home for more.”

There’s a clear trail of white on my chair and on my pants. My cock slipped out of her slit as I set her down on the ground.

“This is the last station! Thank you for riding with us.” The operator announced over the intercom. We’re almost at our destination.

I pulled her overalls off my coat and threw it at Nicha. “Put these on, we still have to walk home.”

“I don’t wanna,” she pouted. “I want to go home with your cum dripping down on me.”

I sighed. Nicha decided to be bratty on the way home, when everything was almost perfect and after all we’ve been through. But what else can I do?

I gave her my coat as I took her overalls and placed it in my bag. We got off the train with her wearing my coat, our mixed juices still running down her legs. We enjoyed our little walk home, having forgotten the prized teddy bear that she was attached to all day long, but that didn’t matter. As soon as we reached home, we stuffed our bodies into each other throughout the night.

—————

And that’s my first work done. I didn’t do a lot of editing as I was excited to publish this one. I finally decided to jump into the world of smut writing after being inspired for a while now. Thank you for reading!

[shingia]

✗ QUIET HAIKYUU BOYS FLIRTING

here’s how the introverted/quiet haikyuu boys would try to flirt with you (most of them being encouraged/forced by someone else)

-> sakusa, kenma, yamaguchi, ushijima, akaashi, suna, kita

— SAKUSA

sakusa had never felt the need to initiate any kind of contact with anyone ; sure, you looked breathtaking under the bar lights, but never in a million years would he risk getting out of his comfort zone. at least not without a little (big) push from komori. when he finally agreed to go sit next to you at the counter, it actually took you a few minutes to notice him, when he half-heartedly asked about your drink.

« how is it ? »

« pretty good » you smiled, a bit taken aback by this unannounced stranger. « um... do you want a taste ? »

he looked down at the glass you were handing him before letting out a disgusted “fuck no”. but after seeing komori desperately wave his arms from the other side of the counter, sakusa thought he could try to make an effort and proposed to pay for your next drink, still looking as uncomfortable as ever but also lowkey proud of himself.

— KENMA

kuroo was a pain in the ass, and kenma knew he wouldn’t know peace unless he gathered the courage to finally make a move after months spent daydreaming about you. and so he did, but definitely not as kuroo expected.

« hi, um... my friend over there is harassing me to come and talk to you so can you please pretend i just said something funny ? »

he looked very fidgety and you noticed he was nervously chewing the inside of his cheeks.

« sure, i got you » you smiled before tipping your head back and letting out the most realistic laugh you could fake. but it turned out that your laugh was actually very communicative, and next thing you knew, you two were actually laughing together at the stupidity of this situation, while kuroo was proudly watching from afar.

— YAMAGUCHI

to say that yamaguchi had rehearsed would be an understatement. he had his script memorised and really hoped that your answers would be the ones expected. the last period of the morning had barely ended that he was already heading to his locker with a determined yet terrified look on his face. he knew your locker was right next to his, and that he needed to seize upon the little timespan he had before you left.

« hi... yourhairlooksnicetoday » he blurted out without any emotion in his voice but pure panic.

you looked at him with your eyebrows lifted, taking a few seconds to process his words before flashing him a bright smile. « oh thank you ! i really like your hair too ! »

oh. that wasn’t planned. yamaguchi’s thoughts started to race, yet his body remained frozen. and after a few seconds spent awkwardly looking at each other, you finally revived the conversation. « we should eat together someday ! see you later ! ».

poor yamaguchi’s heart was definitely pounding in his throat when you waved at him before walking away.

— USHIJIMA

sure, ushijima wouldn’t have minded getting closer to you, but flirting was something he definitely wasn’t comfortable with. however, he thought he could give it a try and began dropping subtle hints. but so subtle that they were absolutely unnoticeable. for example, he considered complimenting your new school uniform the utmost form of flirting.

and when you finally realized what he was trying to do after several months, you decided to make his job easier by creating perfect opportunities for him to make a move.

« i don’t have anything planned this weekend, i’m probably going to bore myself to death... »

« don’t you have a test to study for next week ? »

well, he was certainly more oblivious than expected. but that doesn’t mean he didn’t accept your proposition to study together during the weekend. gladly accepted actually.

— AKAASHI

it drove bokuto crazy to know that akaashi had a crush on you but had never ever tried anything. so he considered it his responsibility to prep his friend for the moment he’d finally make a move.

fukurōdani had just won their first match of the season and akaashi was waiting for you outside the locker room, already a bundle of nerves. after congratulating him, you handed him his jacket that you had kept with you in the stands. « it kept me warm while i was freezing up there, so thank you », you smiled.

ok, now seemed like the perfect opportunity to put bokuto’s tips in practice. even though he knew they were terrible, they seemed like his only option. as calmly as he could, the setter took a deep breath before letting out something he never thought he’d ever say : « maybe because it’s made of boyfriend material »

as much as you didn’t want to shake his confidence, you couldn’t help but facepalm at this awful pickup line. and akaashi didn’t need your reaction to realize how terrible it was.

« i... apologize for that. let me do this my way : would you like to go out with me someday ? »

bonus : years later in your relationship, neither of you ever had the courage to tell bokuto that it wasn’t thanks to his pickup line

— SUNA

« wow, i didn’t think ya’d be such a wimp... it’s been two hours, just do something already ! »

« i’ll do it when i’ll feel like it », suna shrugged atsumu’s teasing off. it was true that he’d had his eyes on you ever since the team entered the restaurant to celebrate their victory in today’s match. but suna did not want to bother with the whole “flirting thing” that atsumu tried to talk him into. however, he stayed true to his words and, indeed, came to talk to you when he finally felt like it.

near the counter, you were waiting for your friends to get out of the bathroom when your eyes laid on the intriguing boy that was walking towards you. behind him, his entire table was staring with impatient faces. but like i said, suna didn’t want to bother with flirting and cut to the chase. very nonchalantly, he grabbed a pen from the pencil pot next to the cash register and started scribbling something on your receipt.

he handed it back to you a few seconds later, faintly shrugging « here. i usually reply fast ». your eyes lowered on the receipt, where you could read the eleven digits of his phone number. and just like that, he went back to his table.

— KITA

no one in their right mind would ever have dared to tease Kita about how long it was taking him to make a move on you ; simply because everyone knew he had already rigorously thought about how and when he’d do it. and they were right, he wanted to be prepared. but talking to you face to face was much different than training in front of his mirror.

he had thought about complimenting your appearance, but it was the last thing he cared about. kita was a man of few words, and he wanted you to know exactly why he liked you in the least complicated way possible. and it took him a lot of courage to do so, even with so much preparation.

«  i don’t know if someone ever told ya that but... » he started, fiddling with the straps of his bag. there was no going back now, you were all ears.

« ...i really enjoy talking to you. with some people it can feel like a waste of time but... you’re always relevant and uh... well, i wouldn’t mind going out with you someday. if you’re ok with it of course »

[nocturnal-milk-dud]

You’re A Natural

Pairing: Juice Ortiz x Reader

Summary: Babysitting 

Rating: G

Warnings/notes: Theo Rossi’s smile lives in my head rent-free, I think that’ll be pretty obvious; I’ve been in my head too much and overthinking my other fic so I did this; it’s soft, I’m soft; I am only now rewatching soa and there’s so much I don’t remember and I’ll probably bail on it like I did the first time cuz PAIN

Word count: 978

“Juice?” Tara asked you after he greeted her and disappeared into the living room. 

“My car broke down, he gave me a ride,” you said. “Don’t worry, babies love him, probably because he is one.” The two of you joined Juice and Jax in the living room, where Juice was already playing with Abel. The baby was strapped into a gently swaying swing and Juice was playing with his feet, a wide smile on his face. You set your bag down and greeted Jax with a hug. 

“Looks like you got your work cut out for ya,” he said and the two of you looked at Juice and Abel, a soft smile spreading across your face. 

“I don’t know, I think he has potential,” you said.

“Oh definitely, I mean, Abel’s practically feeding himself,” Jax said and you nudged him playfully. Tara showed you where they kept everything and was rambling on about Abel’s needs and preferences when Jax cut in.

“She knows how babies work, Tara,” he said softly, a slight teasing edge to his voice. “We should get going.”

“Right, sorry, guess I’m just a little nervous,” she admitted with a gentle scoff. You followed the two of them to the door and closed it behind them, letting out a sigh and shaking your head fondly. The smile on your face didn’t last long as Abel started wailing from the living room. You heard Juice call your name and he appeared in the hallway, a panicked look on his face.

“I didn’t do anything, okay, we were playing and then his bottom lip got all pouty and I tried to calm him down, but nothing was working and he just started freaking out.” The more Juice spoke, the louder he became and the faster the words left his mouth, and you were looking for any chance to interrupt. 

“It’s fine!” you said, hands out to calm him. “They said he would need to eat soon, he’s just hungry.” You found a pacifier and breathed a sigh of relief as Abel settled into soft whimpers around it, his tiny face blotchy and streaked with tears. You freed him from the swing and carried him over to Juice, his face still panic-stricken.

“Can you hold him while I make a bottle?” you asked. Juice nodded, though he didn’t seem certain, and you gently shifted the baby into his arms. “Just let his head rest on your shoulder. Just like that.” You couldn’t help but chuckle a little at the sight before you, Juice standing awkwardly, rigid as a statue. “He’s not a grenade, Juice. Relax.” Afraid of what would happen if Abel spit out the pacifier and started screech-crying in Juice’s ear, you hurried for the kitchen and made a bottle. 

“You sure about this?” Juice asked. 

“Just sit down,” you said, gesturing to the couch. He did as you said and you secured the bib around Abel’s neck. Once Juice was settled, you handed him the bottle and pulled the pacifier. 

“You’re a natural,” you said, walking over to Juice and placing a kiss on his head. You watched the two of them for a moment before seizing the opportunity and heading for the bathroom.

“Wait, where are you going?” Juice asked.

“Bathroom, I’ll be right back.”

When you returned, the tension had left Juice and he was smiling down at Abel.

“Look at this,” Juice said, “look at his little hands!” Abel was trying to hold the bottle, one of his hands covering Juice’s. “You’re doing such a good job, buddy!” 

“No, no, no, diapers aren’t food,” you said, playing tug of war with Abel as he tried to get the fresh diaper closer to his mouth. “Give me that, give me that!” He relinquished his grip with a squeal. “Well, I’m sorry, but some things just aren’t meant to go in your mouth.” Abel made do instead with his hand as his legs kicked and curled. When you returned to the living room, you placed him on the playmat.

“I’m gonna make some coffee,” you told Juice, squeezing his shoulder. You watched from the kitchen as he joined Abel on the floor, laying on his side by the mat. You couldn’t hear what Juice was saying to the baby, but Abel was looking at him very intently. As you watched with a bemused expression on your face, you started to wonder if they were having a staring contest because eventually Juice stopped talking, but the two of them kept staring. You didn’t want to break whatever wordless communication was happening between them, but suddenly, for no reason you could work out, Juice laughed, a bright, full-squint smile lighting up his face, and the gaze was broken as he turned to look at the ceiling, brushing his cheek with the back of his hand. Juice got to his feet and you met him in the living room.

“You okay?” you asked.

“Yeah, the kid was just staring at me, y’know? And I stared back, but I could see myself in his eyes and...there’s just nothing like that,” Juice said. You tilted your head to get a better look at him.

“Were you crying?” 

“No,” Juice said, scoffing, “maybe...a little.” You smiled and placed a soft kiss on his lips. 

“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” Juice nodded, and before either of you could say anything else, Abel started fussing. 

“I think he needs a nap,” you said. You went to hand your mug to Juice, but he was already going to pick up Abel.

“You got him?” you asked, surprised at his confidence. 

“Yeah,” Juice said, smiling. 

“He’s making a mess of your kutte,” you said, watching Abel gum at the leather. “I’ll get him a pacifier.” When you returned with a burp cloth and a pacifier, you found Juice and Abel asleep on the couch.

[flightfoot]

Friendship and Uncertainty

AO3 Thanks to @oblivionhold for betaing!

Marinette really didn't have a lot of great options in Prime Queen. She couldn't tell Nadja and her parents "Oh yeah, sorry, I double-booked myself as Ladybug, my bad! Guess my parents are gonna have to babysit instead!" And if she'd tried to make up an excuse about being busy, with how last-minute it was and how urgently Nadja needed childcare, I don't think her parents would've accepted it.

Her only viable alternative option would've been to cancel her interview with Nadja at the last-minute, citing some last-minute conflict with her civilian schedule. She could've transformed during a bathroom break, texted Chat, and told him as much, leaving him to interview with Nadja alone. I'd argue that this would've been the most responsible option, but not necessarily the best one. With how much the network was pressuring her, Nadja may have landed in hot water if she couldn't get one of her guests on, and Chat would've been disappointed as well.

The plan Marinette came up with in canon was her best shot at fulfilling all her responsibilities without anyone being mad or disappointed or hung out to dry. Manon got looked after by someone Marinette knew was a good babysitter, she got to go to the interview, and no one would have any clue things were remiss... at least, that was her plan. In canon, things got dicey for a bit with Alya calling into the show, but ultimately no one discovered Marinette had left the premises, and everyone was mostly happy.

But it was risky, and things could easily have gone wrong. Hence, this story.

It gives me a good reason to explore Alya feeling hurt and exploring her emotions while sticking closely to canon. There aren't a lot of fics that do that.

--------

“Where is she?” 

Alya looked down at Manon. Nadja was worried about Marinette not being in the picture when she called, and she couldn’t blame her. Bringing over a friend to help babysit as well, or taking over babysitting momentarily while the hired babysitter was busy was one thing, but this was getting ridiculous.

Marinette had seemed weirdly anxious about talking to her parents. She’d chalked it up to Marinette being nervous about whatever she’d needed to tell them, but…

She let out a frustrated sigh. Marinette hadn’t even told her why she needed to talk to them so urgently. It almost felt like she was making up an excuse to ditch her with Manon.

“Marinette wouldn’t do that,” Alya murmured to herself. “She’d tell me if she needed me to cover for her, right?”

But the thought wouldn’t leave her brain.

Manon yawned.

Gears turned in Alya’s head. “Hey Manon, before you fall asleep, how about we go downstairs so you can use the bathroom?”

“I’m not gonna fall asleep!” Manon said, yawning again. But she stood up shakily and headed for the stairs, following Alya.

-----

As Alya waited for Manon to finish in the bathroom near the kitchen, she heard a soft humming coming from the kitchen. Seizing on the opportunity, she hurried over (while keeping near enough that she could still hear when Manon opened the bathroom door).

“Ah, Alya!” Tom greeted her. “Did you kids need some snacks?”

“No, but-” Oh what the hell, why not? “Actually, that sounds great.”

“Anything for my daughter! And her friends of course,” he said, cheerily grabbing a few of hers and Marinette’s favorite cookies. 

“Speaking of Marinette, what’d she want to talk to you about?” she said, as casually as she could manage.

“She wanted to talk to me about something?” Tom asked, sounding perplexed.

“Maybe I just misheard her,” Alya said hastily. “I was playing with Manon and things got a little loud.”

Tom looked troubled. “Well, just let her know that if she needs to talk to me about anything, her papa is always willing to lend an ear.” She could almost see a lightbulb turn on above Tom’s head. “Oh! I’ve got a batch of Marinette’s favorite cookies in the oven right now! They should be ready in about twenty minutes. If you can send her down then, we can talk this out, see what’s troubling her! And if it was a mistake, well, I’ll never say no to watching her face when she bites into a strawberry macaron.”

Alya slapped on a smile. “Will do!”

The toilet flushed. 

“That’s my cue to leave. Thanks, Mr. Dupain!”

“Anytime!”

She walked to the bathroom on autopilot.

Marinette had lied.

------

“I’m so sorry Alya! I had no idea it would take so long to talk to my parents!” 

Alya didn’t look at her. “What did you guys talk about?” she asked tonelessly.

“Uh, you know… family stuff,” Marinette sounded nervous. 

Alya turned to her. “Marinette, I know you weren’t with your parents.”

“I- uh-”

“I went downstairs earlier and asked your dad what you two talked about, but he said he didn’t talk to you at all. Your dad wanted me to tell you that if you need to talk with him about anything, he’s willing to lend an ear. The batch of strawberry macarons he was making should be ready by now.” Her voice sounded dead, even to her own ears.

“Alya, I’m- I’m really sorry-”

She took a deep breath. “I’m not ready to talk with you about it right now,” she said evenly. “If I do, I might raise my voice, and I don’t want Manon to see us fighting.”

Marinette winced, glancing at the sleeping girl.

“Um… could we talk tomorrow…?” Marinette asked, sounding small. 

Alya nodded stiffly. Not like she could avoid it, tomorrow was a school day. 

As she headed down the ladder, she paused and looked up, “Oh, and Marinette?”

“Yes?”

“I didn’t let anyone know you left. I’m still not happy you ditched me, but I didn’t rat you out.”

Marinette’s eyes widened and she started to stammer something. Alya shut the hatch.

Alya squeezed her eyes tight, letting out a small sob.

At that last moment, she’d been tempted to stay. To hear Marinette out. To see whether maybe, maybe, she had a good explanation. Some sort of excuse.

But she couldn’t.

If she stayed, with Marinette looking at her like that, clearly hurting… she wouldn’t be able to stay mad at her. Not when she felt worse than Alya herself did.

Alya wasn’t ready to let go of her anger and hurt yet. Not so soon.

Pausing only to text Nora that she was heading home, she hurried out the door.

------

“Little sis?”

Alya quickly wiped her eyes, trying to compose herself before Nora saw her.

It didn’t work.

“What happened? Who hurt you?” Nora asked, grabbing her shoulders. 

“No one!”

Even to her own ears, it sounded false.

Nora frowned. “Really? Your eyes are red, and I can see the tear streaks on your cheeks. You really expect me to believe that?”

She looked away.

“Hey, look, little sis-” Nora said softly.

“Don’t call me that.” She couldn’t muster up the energy to put any heat behind her words. 

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Promise not to go after her?”

Nora blinked. “Her? ...wait, you were just at Baguette’s place- did something happen with Marinette?”

“Promise me,” she insisted.

Nora grimaced, before sighing. “Fiiiiine. Can I at least yell at her?”

“No. I want to handle this myself.”

“If you’re sure, little sis.”

Alya made a face, but explained what’d happened. How Marinette had called her over, ditched her with an excuse about her parents, how she’d learned Marinette was lying, everything.

“-and I just. I don’t understand why,” she finished. “I help her out all the time! Heck, I’ve even helped babysit Manon before! Why’d she lie to me?” She looked down at her lap, her fists tightening as she squeezed her pants legs, needing to get energy out. “I just- I feel used.”

Nora pulled her into a tight hug. She leaned into the pressure, listening to her sister’s heartbeat.

“Remember back in Martinique, with Maya?” Alya murmured.

“The neighbor girl?”

Alya nodded. “We played together a lot when I was a little. But sometimes… sometimes she’d get demanding, saying that if I didn’t do what she wanted - play some game she wanted, pick a role she wanted me to, whatever - she’d say that if I didn’t do it, she wouldn’t be friends with me anymore. There weren’t a lot of other kids my age in the area, so I agreed.” She gave a small smile. “Until one time she went too far. I stormed home in tears, scared that she wouldn’t play with me anymore, but not able to take it anymore.” Taking in a deep, shuddering breath, she continued. “You know what Mom did when she heard? When I told her how afraid I was that Maya wouldn’t want to play with me anymore? She told me to just wait. Less than an hour later Maya was knocking at the door, asking if I would come out to play. I stopped being afraid of her threat after that, and she stopped using it. I could say no.”

“I’m guessing this feels similar?” Nora said.

Alya nodded. “But it’s also weird! With Maya I understood what she was after. With Marinette, I don’t. Did she just really not want to babysit? Where’d she even go? And why-” Alya hesitated. “Why did she risk this? What was so important? Marinette, she- she doesn’t always think through other people’s feelings, but she DOES care about people! She doesn’t like hurting others! So why-”

Nora shook her head. “It’s no use speculating, you’ll just get your head turning ‘round and ‘round in circles ‘til you don’t know up from down. Just ask her tomorrow.”

Biting her lip, Alya sighed. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. I just don’t know how I’ll sleep tonight after all this.”

Nora smiled, pulling out a DVD from… okay she really wanted to know when Nora had hollowed out a copy of the Lord of the Rings trilogy collection, because on the one hand that was SUPER cool, and on the other hand it physically hurt her to see a book damaged like that. 

“I was saving this for your birthday,” Nora said, oblivious to Alya’s crisis, “But I think you need it now.”

She looked at the movie, letting out an inhumanly high-pitched squeal. “Majestia’s Early Days - Collector’s Edition?! How’d you even get this? I camped out on the website all day trying to snag a copy! They sold out in seconds,” she scowled, “Damn scalpers.”

Nora laughed. “Having fans can really come in handy. After one of my matches, I mentioned how bummed out my little sis was about not being able to get her hands on a copy. The next day one of my regular fans handed this to me, said he hoped you’d enjoy it.”

“If you see him again, tell him that he’s a wonderful person with excellent taste in boxers!”

Nora laughed, grinning from ear-to-ear. Alya bet her own grin dwarfed even Nora’s. 

“Let’s watch Majestia kick some ass.”

-----

“Alya? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” 

Nino lifted an eyebrow. “You’ve been staring down at the floor for the past minute, looking like your dogs just got kidnapped by subterranean monsters and you’re trying to figure out how to get them back and why they’d want them in the first place.”

She stifled a laugh. “You come up with that for one of your movie scripts?”

He adjusted his cap, grinning proudly. “No, but now that you mention it…”

“Do you even know anyone with a dog?”

“Maybe a shelter would help out? They’re always looking for more exposure. We could put a note during the credits that the pups are available for adoption!”

Hm… she could advertise their film on her blog too, maybe ask whether any of her readers worked at a local dog shelter…

“We could talk to Marinette, see whether she’d be up for making a monster costume! Or if she’s too busy, Halloween’s coming up and- Alya?”

She blinked, only just now noticing how tightly she’d been squeezing her shirt in her hands. “I’m- I’m fine.”

Nino frowned. “No, you’re not.”

She looked away. 

Nino slid into the seat next to her. “Look. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s clearly hurting you. If you don’t want to talk about it, I understand. If you just want to go back to talking about something unrelated to it, something fun, to keep your mind off it, I’m happy to oblige. But I’m always here to lend an ear if you need it.”

She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Marinette called me over last night, wanted me to watch the Ladybug and Chat Noir interview with her. She also happened to be babysitting Manon, and thought it’d be more fun if we were all there together. Everything was fine at first,” she said, fidgeting. “I played around with Manon for a bit, Marinette got some pillows to lay on, and we got set up to watch the interview. Then Marinette said she needed to talk to her parents and that she might be gone for a while.”

She let out a humorless chuckle. “I waited for a while, but… no Marinette. Finally, I went downstairs and checked with her dad. He didn’t know anything about it. As far as he knew, she’d been upstairs in her room with me the entire time. Marinette came back a little while later, pretending that her talk with her parents had gone super long and I just… I couldn’t deal with it. I left. I said I’d talk with her about it today, but…”

“But you don’t feel ready now either?” Nino guessed.

She nodded. “I just keep on turning it around and around in my head. It doesn’t make sense. Sure, Marinette makes up excuses and disappears sometimes, but…” Something niggled in the back of her brain. “Hey Nino,” she asked carefully, trying to catch the strand of thought. “Has Marinette always been like this? Running off at a moment’s notice with fake-sounding reasons?”

Nino scratched his head. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “We’ve been in classes before, but we weren’t exactly close. I don’t think so? I think I would’ve noticed that. Not like we had akuma attacks distracting us last year.”

“Akuma attacks...” she murmured to herself.

There it was again. That niggling sensation, but even stronger this time. 

*Slam*

Marinette threw the classroom door open, pinwheeling her arms as she struggled to regain her balance. 

“AAAAAAH-”

At the last second as she fell backwards, Adrien seemed to almost teleport through the door, catching her.

Nino smiled. “I swear Adrien has a ‘Marinette falling’ sense. He always arrives just in time to catch her.”

Alya snorted. “Now if only he had a ‘Marinette feeling’ sense.”

Frowning, Alya tried to grasp onto the threads of thought from before, but they’d scampered with the distraction. 

“...Can I sit here?” a soft voice asked.

Alya jumped a little, then scolded herself. She’d just seen Marinette arrive, she shouldn’t be able to startle her less than a minute later.

Nino got up slowly, giving Marinette a hard look, but moving to his regular seat without comment.

Marinette didn’t move. 

Oh. Marinette was waiting for her permission, not just for Nino to leave.

“Sure. I mean, you sat here first,” Alya said. “I’m not the Queen of Seats.”

Marinette snorted at the reference, the edges of her mouth twitching upwards.

Alya narrowed her eyes. She hadn’t noticed before, but from this close, she could see the bags under eyes, along with a slight puffiness.

Guilt settled in her stomach. She was pretty sure she knew why Marinette wouldn’t have gotten enough sleep, why she would’ve been crying.

“But she broke my trust!” part of her screamed. “She lied to me, used me!”

She still didn’t like seeing her friend hurt.

“So?” She asked as Marinette slid into her seat.

“So what?” Marinette asked nervously.

Alya narrowed her eyes. 

Marinette bit her lip. “I- I’m not sure what to say. I- I lied to you. You’re right. I called you over because I’d accidentally double-booked myself, but I couldn’t just TELL Nadja that and I couldn’t cancel on no notice, so I just… came up with what I thought was the best solution. Manon would get taken care of, Nadja, Mom, and Dad wouldn’t know anything unusual had happened, and I’d be back before you noticed anything was wrong. Everyone would be happy! At least, that’s what I planned…” she petered off, looking away.

She could get what Marinette was thinking now, when she called her over. Sometimes you couldn’t do the things you wanted without disappointing someone, without someone being upset with you. But if you lined things up just right, you might not need to upset anyone - so long as they never found out what you’d done. 

It still stung that Alya had been the tool she used to solve her problem, but at least she understood Marinette’s thought process. 

“What was so important?” she asked. “What was so vital that you had to sneak out, even if it meant lying to your friends and family?”

Marinette flinched. “I- I have to,” she whispered. “I don’t have a choice.”

Alarm bells rang in Alya’s head. “What do you mean?” she said urgently. “Is someone threatening you? Marinette, are you in danger?”

“No!” She thought for a moment. “Yes? Kind of? Not- not the way you’re thinking of!” she added hastily.

She didn’t know what she was thinking. Drugs? Gangs? A cult that’d ensnared Marinette in its clutches?

“Can I have your attention please?” Ms. Bustier said.

Alya turned to the front of the class, head still spinning. She still wasn’t totally sure how she felt about what Marinette had done, but she had bigger worries.

Something was wrong with Marinette. 

-----

That girl could be slippery when she wanted to be. 

She managed to avoid talking to Alya for the rest of Bustier’s class, not responding to any note-passing and hurrying out of the classroom the second the bell rang. With Marinette going home for lunch she had little opportunity to talk to her then, and as for their next period… Alya may be brave, but she wasn’t stupid. No talking in Ms. Mendeleiv’s class.

With a sigh, she watched Marinette run out of Francois-Dupont, somehow managing to take the stairs two at a time without falling. Clearly whatever it was, Marinette didn’t want to talk about it. 

But if it was hurting her…

She shook her head. She’d been thinking about this all day. It was time to get her mind off it, do something else. 

Nodding, she turned towards the park. Maybe some time climbing trees would help take her mind off things. And if it didn’t, it’d at least give her practice catching her siblings when they inevitably got themselves stuck in some high-up area. She could swear they had teleportation skills that they’d been hiding their whole lives just to prank the rest of the family with.

Chuckling to herself, she almost missed the flash of red out of the corner of her eye.

She whipped around. “Ladybug?!” 

The superhero froze, looking caught out. “Alya!” she said, sounding strangled. “What’re you doing here?” 

She shrugged. “Just enjoying the weather,” she said, pulling out her phone. “Would you be up for another interview?”

Ladybug started shaking her head before she even finished the sentence. “No, NOPE, nada, absolutely not!” she said, making an “X” with her arms for emphasis. “Not after yesterday. Not happening.”

She stashed her phone. “You just want to talk off the record then?”

The superheroine’s eyes widened a fraction. She nodded. “There’s… there’s something I could use your advice on.”

Something fluttered in Alya’s chest. Her idol needed her help? “I’ll do what I can,” she said, more confidently than she felt.

After going to a secluded part of the park, Ladybug turned to her. “You know a lot about superheroes right? About how we have to maintain a double life?”

Alya nodded. “It’s a comic book staple. Often causes a lot of trouble for the hero, but not as much as having their identity leaked to the world.”

“Yeah, I know what that trouble’s like,” Ladybug muttered to herself. Speaking more loudly, she looked at Alya. “I- I messed up. Badly. I forgot that I’d-” She paused. “Sorry, I need to be careful about this. I don’t want to expose myself.”

Alya nodded. 

After a minute, Ladybug tried again. “I needed to do something as Ladybug, but as a civilian, I’d already agreed to another responsibility at the same time,” she said carefully. “I couldn’t tell anyone that I needed to do something Ladybug-related without spilling my secret identity, but I also couldn’t get out of my civilian responsibility so I- I tricked someone into doing it instead. And they found out and they’re mad at me and I can’t BLAME them but I can’t tell them everything and I just don’t know what to do!” She looked at Alya pleadingly.

Her stomach twisted. “Seems to be a lot of deception going on lately,” she muttered, surprising even herself with how bitter she sounded. She blinked as Ladybug winced. 

Stop projecting your feelings about the sleepover onto Ladybug’s situation, they’re not the same! She scolded herself.

What would she do in Ladybug’s shoes? She couldn’t tell anyone her identity. She’d still want to be friends with this person. Just heaping on lies would make it worse when those came to light, alienating the friend (or former friend) even further.

“Have you explained as much as you could why you did it without giving away your secret identity?” Alya asked slowly. “Just… let them know that you do care about them, that you didn’t lie to them lightly, that you care about your feelings and you didn’t have a lot of options.” Ah, screw it. Maybe it was just because it’d been recent and she was still hurting and worried, but perhaps hearing it would help Ladybug with her own friend problems. “One of my friends recently tricked me into covering for her,” she said. “I’m still not sure why.”

“O-oh, really?” Ladybug said… nervously? Probably because it reminded her of her own friend.

“She vaguely explained to me why,” she continued. “What she was thinking and feeling at the time. She had another commitment too, but she didn’t tell me what it was.” She let out a deep sigh. “At least she didn’t lie about it - I think. I’d rather she not tell me, than lie about it.” A pebble sat near her shoe. Absentmindedly, she kicked it. “With how distraught she was when she explained it... I think she was sincere. That she doesn’t view me as a tool. That she was just in a tough spot,” she said. “That helps a lot.”

“I- I did explain,” Ladybug said, hope lifting her voice. “I think she believed me.”

Alya nodded. “In that case… I don’t think there’s much more you can do. Give her space, and try to avoid doing it again if you can.” She bit her lip. “Which might not be totally under your control considering Hawkbutt.” 

Ladybug stifled a giggle. 

She gave a small smile, snorting at her own joke. “Anyway, could I ask you a favor? So long as you don’t have any other commitments already, I don’t want to land you in hot water with anyone else,” she added hastily.

“Nothing to do with the Ladyblog, right?” Ladybug asked suspiciously.

As much as she’d like that… “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Actually, it has to do with a friend of mine. You know Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

“Uh- NOPE never heard that name in my life! Who’s Marinette?” Ladybug said hastily, gesticulating wildly.

Huh. Weird. She could’ve sworn that Marinette had mentioned meeting Ladybug before, but come to think of it, she couldn’t remember a single instance of Marinette and Ladybug being in the same place at the same time-

Never mind, there was that time with Alix’s race. But if that was the only time, no wonder Ladybug didn’t remember her. She wasn’t even sure that anyone had said Marinette’s name while Ladybug was within earshot.

Aaaaaand there was that niggling sensation again. She wished it’d either divulge what it was getting at or leave her alone. 

She whipped out her phone, pulling up a picture she and Marinette had taken together a couple months ago. “Marinette’s my best friend,” she said, surprising herself with how sure she sounded. “We’re going through a bit of a rough patch right now, but… well, I’m still worried about her. She was the one who lied to me yesterday, and when I confronted her about it, she said something about not having a choice. It sounds like she’s in danger but she won’t tell me from what, and I’m not sure what could be the problem and… I’m just worried.” Looking up from her phone, she locked eyes with the superhero. “Could you check up on her, please? Maybe she’d talk to you even if she wouldn’t talk to me. And- and even if she doesn’t, I’d feel better if a superhero was looking out for her.”

“You really care about her, huh?,” Ladybug said, giving her a soft smile. “Even though you’re fighting.”

She nodded. “I’m not happy with her, and there are some things we still need to work out, but- yeah. I want to make sure she’s okay.”

“You’re a good friend, Alya. I’m sure she’s fine, but I’ll look after her as best I can.”

“Buginette?” a boy’s voice called. A black figure landed next to Ladybug, crouched in the classic superhero landing pose, one knee bent, one hand punching the ground.

Oooh, new Ladyblog idea! Top ten Chat Noir poses! Seriously, that cat could be a model with the way he effortlessly mugged for the camera.

Ladybug groaned. “Did I forget the time already?” 

“It’s fine,” Chat said, resting his stick on his shoulders. “Waiting made seeing you all the sweeter.”

The spotted heroine groaned again, for a different reason this time. Alya saw the corners of her lips quirk upwards ever-so-slightly, belying her annoyance. “Come on, you alley cat. Race you to the Tower!”

“Oh, you’re on!” 

Alya watched them run off. Well, pole vault and swing off, but you know. Semantics.

Turning around, she headed back home.

She had an article to write.

-----

Alya hummed as she walked into class, glancing at her phone. The Chat article had been a major hit, garnering several dozen comments within a few hours of posting, including from a user called “TheCatsMeow” who seemed weirdly invested in convincing everyone that Chat definitely had no experience modeling and his on-point posing was entirely due to natural talent and charisma. People picked the weirdest hills to die on. She’d been joking when she proposed that he was secretly a supermodel, but after having defended the possibility in a ten-commment-long exchange, she was starting to seriously consider it. Hm, maybe Adrien would have an idea of a possible identity lead…

“Oooof!”

“Augh!”

Note to self: Don’t walk while looking at your phone. Sure she never listened when Mom told her that, but maybe this time she’d have the self-control to hold off! Optimism!

“Sorry,” she said instinctively. And blinked. “Marinette? You’re EARLY?!”

She should text her mom to buy a lottery ticket.

“Yeah,” Marinette said, chuckling nervously. She seemed to be in much better shape this time. A little down, but it looked like she’d gotten some decent sleep. “I- I just thought- if you wanted to talk- never mind. You need space.”

Suspicions percolated in her mind. “I should go to the restroom before class starts. How about you?”

Marinette’s head whipped up. “Yeah, sure, better to be safe than sorry. You know me, always needing to race to the toilet!” She rubbed the back of her neck.

“Every other akuma attack it seems like,” Alya said, walking down the hallway with her friend. “I swear, something about it being an inconvenient time makes you need to go even more.”

“Yep, that’s totally the reason!” Marinette agreed.

They walked for a moment in silence while she tried to gather her thoughts. “You know about my advice to Ladybug, don’t you?” she said at last.

“Ack-!” Marinette tripped on air, but managed to save herself at the last second. “Uh, no, that’s ridiculous, how could I know about that? It’s not like I was there or anything.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Uh huh. And it’s pure coincidence that you concluded I needed space the day after I gave that advice to Ladybug to help with her own friend problem?”

“Uuuuuh…” Marinette looked off to the side, before releasing a long sigh. “Yeah, you’re right. Ladybug talked to me last night, and well… your conversation came up. I figured our problems were similar enough, and you were the one giving the advice, so… maybe if I followed it, we could make up?”

Marinette wanted to go back to normal, to laugh and joke and just.. enjoy each other’s company again. And Alya… she wanted that too. 

She knew Marinette hadn’t meant to hurt her. And she understood why Marinette had done what she’d done. 

Well, except for what prompted Marinette to need to lie in the first place. She just had a gut feeling it was a cult, some sort of secret society. She was sure Miraculous had been around for awhile, that several historical figures had used them, and she could just bet that there was some sort of secret group watching over them from the shadows. She just needed a thread to follow, something that could lead her back to the guardians-

NOT THE TIME, BRAIN.

Abruptly, she stopped. “I- I want that too,” she said softly. “I don’t like fighting. I want my friend back.” She gave Marinette a hard look. “If Ladybug told you my advice, then you already know what I’m about to say. I don’t like being lied to - not like that. Not as part of a manipulation. You had your reasons, I get that, but I don’t think I could take that a second time. Unless someone’s in danger if you don’t, please, don’t lie to me. If you can’t tell me something or why you’re asking me to do a thing, just tell me that. I can’t promise to like it, but it’s better than being tricked.”

Marinette bit her lip and nodded. “I think- yeah. Yeah, I can do that,” she said, gaining confidence.

Alya smiled. “In that case…” she took off. “Race you to the bathrooms!”

“Hey, no running in the halls!” Marinette said, but her laughter undercut her words. As did her immediately overtaking Alya.

Girl could move fast when she wanted to.

------

(Several months later)

“And I… I’m Ladybug”

“This makes everything make so much more sense.”

[duskholland]

What about a Soft!Mob!Tom where the reader is suuper pregnant and tom gets anything she needs (like cravings or something), and even cuddles her.

Love u

grrr this is so cute. so so so so so cute. thanks for requesting! cw: food. 

– it’s mob monday !! –

“How’s that, darling? Is that better?”

Tom’s looking at you, concern written across his face. His tie hangs loosely around his neck, his shirt crumpled. For the last two minutes, he’s been fussing around you, trying to fluff up the pillow behind your back so you’ll be comfortable. It doesn’t matter how much you move and try to reposition—there’s been a sharp pain jabbing into your lower back for the last hour, and it’s been incredibly irritating.

You hum, shifting around slightly as you test the waters with this new position. A broad smile finds your mouth.

“Better!” You announce. You sigh as you lay back, your hand drifting to rest on the curve of your baby bump. You’re eight months pregnant, and though you’re enjoying your pregnancy for the most part, it’s grown tiresome. Your hormones are all over the place, your feet hurt all the time, and the cravings have been incredibly intense. 

“Can I get you anything else?” Tom asks. He reaches down to rest his palm on your belly, his pinky finger wrapping around yours. His eyes are tired but still so full of love, and you feel your heart do a backflip as you meet them.

“No, I’m okay.” You link your hand with his and squeeze him softly. “You should go back to your meeting. I’ll be fine here.”

He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching together. “If you need anything—anything—you call me. Okay?”

You bite back the smile that threatens to seize hold of your features, and nod. Tom’s been incredibly protective for the entire duration of your pregnancy, looking after you more than you’d ever expected him to. He’s always taken care of you, but it’s been upped—he’s uneasy whenever he doesn’t have an eye on you and doesn’t like being away from you for too long. He’s incredibly doting, and giving, and patient, and you love him so much it makes your heart hurt.

“Go,” you urge, knowing he’d happily blow off another meeting for you. “I just need to rest. Go do your job, mister.”

He kisses the back of your hand before begrudgingly stepping away.

“Fine,” he grumbles. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

For a while, you flick through the programmes on the large tv attached to the wall of your bedroom, only paying partial attention as you’re between sleep and consciousness. However, when a cooking show comes on screen, you find yourself waking up. You look at the screen, your eyes widening as they fall upon the delicious spread of food. Suddenly, you feel an incredibly strong, inconvenient craving come on.

You groan as you reach out, looking for your phone. You’re distracted by the tv as you write out some simple messages to Tom.

You: hey can someone get me one of those waffles from that market in camden pls You: a really big one with the strawberries and the syrup on You: please xxxx You: oh and cinnamon. thanks

Tom: give me ten minutes

You smile as you put your phone back on the mattress, stretching your arms out above your head as you sigh happily. Tom’s got men on the ground all across the city, so you don’t feel as bad as you did when you’d begged him to go out at 3am to bring you KFC. He’d done it, because he loves you, but you’d still felt guilty. It eases your heart to know he’ll probably just relay the message to someone else and then continue with his meeting, unbothered.

Instead, you find the bedroom door opening nine minutes later, and in strolls Tom, waffle in hand, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Here you go, my darling,” he announces. He passes you the plate and kisses your forehead before waltzing off to the side, his fingers going to his tie.

“Fuck,” you moan, taking the first bite of your food and feeling your tastebuds delight. “Thank you.” You look to Tom and frown as you see he’s stripping off. “Wait, what about your meeting?”

Tom quirks an eyebrow. “You need me,” he says, stating it as a fact.

You nod along, deciding not to tell him that you needed the waffle, not him, because now he’s walking towards you, shirtless and in a pair of grey sweats, and you realise...yeah. You’d quite like a cuddle.

“Definitely,” you agree. You finish eating and Tom takes the plate, putting it on the side. He offers you a glass of water, then waits for you to finish that too before approaching the bed. “Ah, fuck. I need to pee.”

Tom briefly rolls his eyes, well used to this by now. “You always need to pee,” he teases. He pulls back the duvet and offers you both hands, which you gratefully accept.

“Yeah, well, try carrying around a baby, and maybe then you’d understand.”

Tom kisses your temple before you walk away. You’re quick through the bathroom, and you find yourself yawning as you dry your hands on one of the soft cotton towels. When you walk back into the bedroom, you discover it considerably tidier than you’d left it. Tom’s apparently passed over it like some sort of cleaning fairy, and he’s moved away all the scattered clothes and dress pillows. He’s sitting in bed waiting for you, the big light switched off, and he’s apparently just as prepared as you to have a nap despite it only being late afternoon.

“You’re very cute,” you say as you get back into bed. You snuggle down and Tom curls into your side, throwing one of his legs over yours as he presses his face into your neck. His hand goes to your bump as he kisses up your neck, very softly.

“What d’you mean?” He mumbles, voice quiet and soft. His fingers draw light circles over your belly, and you hum contentedly. Already, you’re feeling sleepier, just from the darkness in the room and the warmth coming off Tom’s figure.

“So attentive,” you say. “So sweet. So...soft.”

Tom grumbles into your neck. “‘M not soft.”

“Yes, you are.” You snuggle further into the duvet and smile into the darkness. “Ditching your meetings for me, bringing me whatever I want, cuddling me all the time… You’re a big softie, Tom. It’s cute.”

“Hmph.” Tom rubs your stomach gently. “I just want to make sure that you’re okay. Happy mum, happy baby.” You roll your eyes as he repeats the buzz phrase which has characterised your pregnancy. Happy mum, happy baby has been his mantra. You aren’t complaining. It’s worked out quite well for you.

“Yeah, but when the baby’s here, you’ll be ditching me for her.”

“Never, darling, never.” Tom chuckles as he kisses your jaw. “You’ll just need to share the spotlight. Can you do that?”

You bring a hand up to play with his hair. “I think I’ll be able to figure something out,” you reply. You’re quiet for a few moments, your eyelids falling shut as you let yourself relax. You’re very content, with Tom’s soft curls against your neck and his soft breathing fanning out across your skin. You feel full of love. “‘M sleepy.”

“Go to sleep,” he whispers. Tom turns his head to kiss your shoulder. “I’m here.”

“Okay,” you mumble, yawning. One of your hands goes to rest on your stomach, and Tom repositions his palm so it’s resting on top of yours.

“Sweet dreams,” he coos. “Sleep well.”

[you-didnt-see-that-cuming]

Mirror’s Image | Javier Peña x Reader

Summary: Being with Javier feels like paradise. Being fucked against a mirror by Javier feels like euphoria.

Rated: E

Word Count: 2.7k

AO3 Link

Masterlist

A/N: I’ve been on my loving pedro bullshit again so here is some mirror sex with javier peña

When working as a DEA agent in Colombia, there were rarely ever moments that called for celebration. However, the raid based on information that Y/N had spent countless hours and sleepless nights collecting and deciphering was definitely one of those moments. Several tons of cocaine, crates of firearms, and multiple high-ranking and very wanted narcos had been seized with no casualties, along with new information about how Escobar was smuggling things in and out of Colombia. 

Even Carillo, who rarely ever smiled, had seen all the work Y/N had put into organizing the raid and was hiding a grin when he announced a celebratory dinner at a bar down the street from the embassy. Y/N was heading back to the police cruisers for a ride back to the embassy when Javier appeared suddenly at her side, his voice low and his hand sliding into her back pocket. 

“You have no idea how sexy you looked pointing a gun and shouting orders hermosa, I almost took you right then and there,” he whispered, leaning closer so that only she could hear him. Y/N could feel her cheeks heat and a spark tugging deep in her stomach. The two of them had been secretly seeing each other for over a year, not even clueing Murphy in on what they were behind closed doors. 

“Javier! What if someone sees us?” Y/N whispered harshly, although she wished she could lean into him and finally feel his hands on her properly after the long day they had had. His hands were always warm and soft against her skin, a juxtaposition from his perfectly calloused fingertips that would leave marks on her sides for weeks. The thought of him holding her up against the wall, bruising her thighs as he drew orgasm after orgasm from her was enough to make her feel an even more powerful surge of sparks in her abdomen. 

“Don’t worry hermosa, I’ll have you all to myself tonight,” Javier leaned into her neck and lightly bit down on the edge of her earlobe, sending shivers down her spine and intensifying the sparks in her core. Her eyes fluttered shut as Javier pulled away, walking in the opposite direction as if nothing had happened, a confident swagger in his gait. 

Y/N had to bite her lip to keep from moaning, now frustrated and wanting a certain someone between her legs, and it wasn’t until Carillo’s voice startled her out of her thoughts that Y/N took her eyes off of Javier and his immaculate frame. 

“You alright there Y/N? I thought you’d be heading back to get ready for tonight?” Carillo was an intimidating man, his shoulders and chest broad and a no-nonsense sort of look that was plastered on his face at all times. 

“Oh! Yes, um, I was just distracted for a moment, yes I’m heading back right now, I think I’m going to take a shower and get all of this grime off of me,” Y/N chuckled nervously before she rushed into one of the cruisers getting ready to leave for the embassy. She still had a couple hours before she had to arrive at the time Carillo had given everyone, and although Carillo was a stickler for punctuality, Y/N would still have time to unwind in the shower and prepare for the night. After all, if she wanted to spend the night with Javier like he had teased her earlier, she might as well make it worth her while. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N’s shower was the first time that she had been able to fully relax over the past few months. Almost all of her time had been spent pouring over evidence and tracking down witnesses and information, so the steam was a welcome treat for her aching muscles. Y/N stood beneath the rainfall setting of her shower, slowly kneading at the knots in her shoulders. She hadn’t realized just how long it had been since she had done something as indulgent as taking a hot shower for longer than 20 minutes. Her only true indulgence had been Javier’s company whenever they decided to spend the night together. After a long shower that was desperately needed, it didn’t take long to finish getting ready and begin the drive to the bar. 

It wasn’t a long drive, only about 10 minutes, but it gave Y/N the opportunity to listen to the radio and reflect. So much had happened within the two years that she had been working with the DEA in Colombia. The first 10 months or so had been filled with helping Javier and Murphy on cases, all while dealing with dangerous narcos and dodging the flirtatious advances of Javier. 

It wasn’t until Y/N had gotten shot in the stomach on one of their assignments that Javier had realized that the reason why he hadn’t been frequenting the best brothels of Bogota for the past couple months was because of Y/N. Only 4 weeks later, the two had begun secretly seeing each other after work, meeting up at restaurants where no one they knew could run into them. 

But Javier had promised that once Y/N had gotten her big break on a case, they would go together to HR and officially fill out the paperwork stating that they were a couple. Y/N had just gotten her big break on a case. She knew that the raid wouldn’t be the only thing that she would be celebrating that night.

~~~~~~~~~~

After a couple of drinks, everyone seemed to have loosened up and were engaged in loud conversation with one another. Y/N, however, kept glancing over to Javier, who was seated next to her. He always looked attractive, but Y/N could practically feel the sex appeal that was coming off of him in waves. He was wearing a button up with the top few buttons left open, revealing his smooth, tanned chest. She didn’t blame the lingering eyes of other women in the bar, after all, she had been one of them not too long ago. 

So far, they had been careful about any public displays of affection, but after the stunt that Javier had pulled back at the raid, Y/N decided to throw all caution to the wind. Carefully, she placed her hand on his knee under the table. She could feel how he tensed slightly under her touch before relaxing again. Y/N waited a few moments before she began slowly running her fingers up his thigh, taking her time to draw flowing patterns like vines.

It wasn’t until she was only a few inches away from his groin when his hand suddenly seized her wrist. He leaned in close, just as he had done at the raid, but this time there was an edge to his voice, like he was straining to get the words out. 

“What do you think you’re doing hermosa?” his words were almost like a growl with how deep his voice had gotten. 

Y/N blinked innocently at him, an expression that did not match what she was attempting to do with her hands. 

“What do you mean, Javi?” a smile was starting to spread across her face at Javier’s raised eyebrow. His grip tightened slightly around her wrist before he released her, standing up abruptly. Pulling an almost empty pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, he stalked off towards the back door of the bar, presumably to smoke in the back alley. 

Y/N had certainly gotten a reaction from him, he was always so… responsive beneath her touch. She would pay for it later though, a thought that had her mouth watering and her thighs clenching together. Recalling the memory of his face between her thighs or her front pressed against the balcony window as he pounded into her from behind, teasing her and forcing her over the edge more times than she could count was enough to make her desperate for his touch. 

Y/N waited until the song that was playing over the speakers had begun transitioning into the next before she stood to follow him. Y/N knew where to go, the door to the back alley was in the service hallway next to the bathrooms, a trip she had taken multiple times before for various drunken smoke breaks.

She almost had no time to react when she was suddenly pulled into one of the bathrooms and pushed up against the door, forcing the air out of her lungs. Javier’s mouth was on her neck within seconds, tracing the line of her jaw and down to her shoulder.

“Querida, you have no idea what you do to me, do you?” he murmured, his lips still tracing her neck. 

“Mmm, why don’t you show me, mi amor?

Javier’s lips were on hers within seconds, his hands roaming across her body like he couldn’t get enough of her touch and the feeling of her skin beneath his fingertips. 

Y/N couldn’t help but moan, Javier tasted of his usual whiskey and cigarettes, a combination that was always intoxicating to her. He wasted no time in beginning to unbutton the buttons of her blouse, trying to rid her of as much clothing as possible so that he could touch more of her. 

Their kiss quickly became frenzied, both of them chasing a high that only the other could give. Within moments, Javier’s hands were on Y/N’s waist, turning her around and pressing her up against the mirror covered wall.

“Look at how perfect you look for me querida, looking like a fucking angel for me,” Javier’s voice was deep and raspy as he mouthed kisses over her neck, slowly and with purpose.

Y/N used her arms to brace herself against the mirror, looking at her reflection through her lashes. She looked absolutely wrecked, her hair was a mess, lips puffy, and the heaving of her chest from her panting was on full display. Javier stood behind her, giving open mouth kisses to her neck as his large hands traveled up her abdomen, squeezing one of her breasts in his hand. 

“Look at how beautiful you look for me, hermosa,” his voice now a low growl that sent shivers down her spine. 

“Javi, please! Do something, I- I need you to touch me,” Y/N was pliable beneath his touch, she could feel his cock gliding over her folds, teasing her as she arched her back. 

Without warning, Javier thrust forward, sheathing himself within her in one, swift movement, forcing a gasp from her lips. He stilled for only a moment before setting a punishing pace. Each thrust drove deeper and harder into Y/N, slowly pulling her apart and driving all rationale from her. 

Y/N moaned as she watched their reflection in the mirror, her breasts bouncing with every thrust, the glimpse of Javier’s curls from behind her shoulder, the indentations of her waist where his fingers held her, and the way his cock looked every time he entered her. All of it made her stomach spark in arousal. 

With one particularly hard thrust, Y/N let out a cry, her arms giving out and her body pressing up against the cold mirror. She could see the condensation building from their gasping moans and the heat of their bodies. 

“Oh my god, Javier, r-right there, fuck-” a broken moan escaped her lips as he continued fucking into her, his fingers coming to grasp her thigh roughly.

“You like that princess? You like how I fuck you?” Javier growled, his hand pressing even deeper into the flesh of her thighs and waist.

“Yes, oh my god, yes!” Y/N’s moans echoed slightly off of the tiled walls. “God you feel so good, don’t stop Javi,”

“Always look like a fucking vision on my cock, don’t you? Always feel so fucking good for me, because you are all mine,” he said, biting down on her shoulder. A thin sheen of sweat was layered over Javier’s beautiful, tanned, olive skin, emphasizing the flexing of his muscles with every movement.

With his right hand, Javier threaded his fingers through her hair, grasping it in a vice-like hold at the back of her head, and roughly pulled her up so that they made eye contact through the mirror, Y/N’s mouth falling open in arousal at his actions. 

“Look at how gorgeous you look for me, coming apart on my cock,” Javi had a smirk on his face, like he knew that she was completely at his mercy. “You like it when I fuck you like this? In the bathroom while everyone thinks you’re out smoking?”

Y/N couldn’t even attempt to answer properly, her mind too clouded with euphoria and the building of her orgasm, each rigorous thrust pushing her further over the edge. 

“Come on, answer me amado, you like being fucked like this?” Javier’s brought his hand down in a firm slap to Y/N’s ass, drawing a shocked yelp from her lips. 

“Yes! Yes, I love it Javi, please I- I’m going to cum, don’t stop!”

It only took a few more thrusts before Javier’s hips began stuttering and losing their steady rhythm.

“Where do you want me querida?” he asked, his voice a husky whisper in her ear.

“Inside, please I want you inside me Javi,” her voice was a breathy moan, a sound which always drove Javier over the edge. 

Y/N’s orgasm washed over her, her vision temporarily going white from the euphoria she was experiencing. Only moments later, Javier’s low moan registered next to her ear as he came, filling her up with his cum. 

Javier was still pressed to Y/N’s back, both of them panting as they tried to catch their breaths.

“You always look so beautiful after I fuck you, mi alma, I swear its like you were sculpted by the gods,” Javier mumbled as he pressed gentle kisses to her shoulder, just like he always did after he made her fall apart beneath his touch. Y/N loved this Javi, this was the Javi who woke up early on the weekends to go to the farmers market to get fresh fruit for her, the Javi who danced slowly with her in his living room to his old vinyls, the Javi who no one else but she got to see. 

“Mmm, you always take such good care of me, amado,” Y/N was met with a soft grunt as Javier wrapped his arms around her midsection, pulling her even closer to his body. 

“I’m going to show you just how well I can take care of you tonight, after all, you deserve to be worshipped,” he said as he continued pressing kisses to wherever he could reach. Javier had always been soft and gentle after sex, after years of meaningless sex with informants and prostitutes, he craved the caring touch he only got when he was with Y/N. 

A comfortable silence passed between them before Javier slowly pulled out, his cum slowly beginning to drip down Y/N’s thighs. Y/N barely registered that Javier had taken a damp paper towel and was cleaning up the mess he had left inside her. 

Y/N turned, leaning back against the mirror to watch Javier as he began getting redressed. Only a moment later, he began redressing Y/N, tenderly moving her body to put on her blouse and skirt. 

Y/N hummed, her hand coming up to caress Javier’s cheek lovingly.

“See? Like I said, always taking such good care of me,”

A longing look crossed over Javier’s eyes before he took her face in his hands, pulling her into a slow, passionate kiss. When they finally parted from their sweet embrace, Javier rested his forehead against hers, letting his eyes flutter closed in content and happiness.

“Te amo, mi alma,”

“Te amo, Javier,”

[suituuup]

that's the kind of love i've been dreaming of

Has Beca mentioned that she hates his guts? Everything is just too… annoyingly nice. His charming smile, his messy but not too messy hair, his sense of humor, and well, his taste in women, as he’s dating the girl Beca happens to be in love with.

Word count: 2005

Rating: T

Entry for Bechloe week, day one: “Because I'm in love with you, dumbass.”

Beta by the lovely @snowonebutyou and thanks to @green-eyed-weirdo for bouncing ideas with me <3

READ ON AO3

*

The muffled giggle greeting Beca when she steps through the door makes her groan. The deep voice that follows confirms that Chloe is indeed not alone, and Beca briefly considers turning around and… going for a walk or something.

But her feet are about to fall off, she feels gross from her overcrowded subway ride home where she’s pretty sure a dude sniffed her hair, and she is really fucking tired.

She’s just flopped down face first on the pull-out couch when the door to Chloe’s bedroom opens, and two sets of feet grow closer.

“You alright, Becs?”

Beca grunts something inaudible in acknowledgment before she rolls on her back. “M’fine.”

“Hey Beca,” Chicago greets her with a soft smile, and Beca somehow manages to leash in her sneer.

“Hey,” she mumbles, the best she can muster when it comes to Chloe’s boyfriend.

Has she mentioned that she hates his guts? Everything is just too… annoyingly nice. His charming smile, his messy but not too messy hair, his sense of humor, and well, his taste in women, as he’s dating the girl Beca happens to be in love with.

Yep. It’s only been four years and a half; not a big deal.

She was this close to admitting her feelings to Chloe, still reeling with adrenaline after her solo performance, when Chloe ran to Army Boy instead. Beca doesn’t think she knew what a broken heart felt like until that very moment.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Chicago asks, setting his hands on Chloe’s hips.

“Yeah,” Chloe agrees and leans up to kiss his lips. Beca rolls her eyes, grabbing her phone from her back pocket as a distraction from the display of gag-worthy affection.

The door finally clicks shut behind Chicago, and Beca hears Chloe sigh. That kind of content sigh that has jealousy flare up within her because Chloe should be sighing like that because of her.

“I thought he was leaving tomorrow morning?” Beca asks as she scrolls through her Instagram, not really registering the photos zooming past her eyes.

“Not anymore,” Chloe says, biting on her bottom lip like she’s trying to prevent a smile from breaking through. “He’s um, going to be stationed in Brooklyn. His request just got granted.”

A huge lump forms in Beca’s throat as she registers the news and an uneasy feeling seized her stomach. “That’s--” she swallows with difficulty, swiping her tongue over her dry lips. “That’s great, Chlo.”

She soon exits Instagram, opening her safari to look for apartment listings.

*

Finding an apartment in New York City within her price range, as it turns out, is pretty fucking difficult.

You would think Beca was aware of that given the fact that there used to be one more person living in her current studio, with a simple curtain acting as bathroom walls.

(she definitely has PTSD from that night Amy had food poisoning from Taco Bell.)

When Amy moved out, Chloe took her room, because Beca is the night owl of the two, usually coming home late from work or cooking dinner after Chloe has gone to bed.

It’s pushing eleven by the time she makes it back that night, and she prays that Chloe is already in bed. The past couple of weeks following the news have been… weird, to say the least. Beca has been avoiding Chloe, coming up with excuses whenever Chloe asks her if she wants to hang out.

She makes herself a quick dinner (okay, makes might be a bit of an overstatement: she just pours some hot water over instant noodles. Don’t come at her.) and messes around on her laptop for a while, turning the lights off just after one am.

A moan reaching her ears just as she feels herself dozing off has her eyes fly open. A moan that very much belongs to Chloe, and Beca just wants to disappear off the face of the earth. Quiet laughter follows, and when the bed starts squeaking, leaving no doubt regarding what they’re doing in there, Beca ponders smothering herself with her own pillow.

She grabs her headphones instead, hastily placing them over her ears before she hears something that will most likely scar her forever. It somewhat cancels out the sounds, enough for Beca to fall asleep. She flees the apartment before either of them is awake, drowning her sorrows in a double espresso from the corner coffee shop.

Over the next few days, she excels in avoiding Chloe. She knows Chloe’s schedule well enough to come back when she’s either asleep or not there. Or at least she thought so.

“Hey.”

Beca freezes as she closes the door, looking over her shoulder to find Chloe popping her head out of the fridge.

Beca clears her throat, rubbing her nose with her knuckle as she stares down at the scuff of her shoes. “Hey,” she echoes, setting her keys down on the counter.

“Long time no see,” Chloe says as Beca sits on the edge of her bed to take her boots off.

“Yeah um, I’ve been busy,” Beca mumbles as she undoes her laces.

“Busy avoiding me?”

Beca’s spine snaps straighter at that, and she looks up to meet Chloe’s eyes. “No, just--” her shoulder lifts in a half shrug. “I figured you and Chicago might enjoy some private time together.”

Chloe hums like she doesn’t believe her. “You’d tell me if-- if something was bothering you, right? I feel like I’ve done something wrong.”

Beca swallows. “It’s not you, Chlo. I’m just--” she sighs, feeling her frustration rise as she scrapes her brain for a believable lie. “Work sucks and I feel like I’m getting nowhere, so I’ve been crankier than usual.”

Chloe nods, her lips curving in a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry you’re having a hard time at work,” she says. “We should go out tonight! It’s been forever.”

Beca’s rebuttal lies on the tip of her tongue, out of reflex. She swallows it back, because Chloe is giving her those puppy eyes she’s mastered so well, and Beca knows damn well she can’t resist. Besides, she could definitely use a drink. Or ten.

“Yeah, okay. Sure.”

That’s how they find themselves in an overly too loud, busy club a handful of hours later. Beca is definitely tipsy, and Chloe has just ordered shots, so she knows she’s likely to finish the night with her head in the toilet. But she hasn’t laughed like that in a while, and it feels amazing to be… Beca and Chloe again.

It’s ruined just after Beca downs her first shot, when Army Boy shows up.

“Hi!” Chloe exclaims, springing up from her stool to hug him.

Beca grits her teeth so hard that she’s half-concerned they might break, her eyes throwing daggers at Chicago’s head.

“Hey Beca,” he says, apparently oblivious as he slides on the vacant stool.

Beca simply tilts her chin towards him, along with a tight-lipped smile. As Chicago orders his drink with the waitress, Beca shrugs her jacket on. “I’m gonna go,” she announces over the music, not caring one bit that it’s obvious as to why.

She doesn’t wait for a reply, letting her legs carry her towards the exit as quickly as possible as tears burn her eyes. She bumps into someone in her haste and mumbles a disoriented sorry, sucking in a much needed breath as soon as she steps outside of the club.

The music gradually fades away as she starts down the sidewalk, tugging her jacket tighter around her frame when a chill rolls down her spine. She’s not even sure in which direction she’s going, set on hailing the first cab she finds.

“What the hell is your problem??”

Beca freezes at the familiar voice, swallowing around the forming lump in her throat before she turns around. She barely meets Chloe’s eyes. “I’m just tired, Chlo.”

“Bullshit,” Chloe spits out, a scoff flying past her lips as she shakes her head. Her typically warm eyes are bone-chilling icy. “You left the second he got here.”

Beca sighs heavily, her hands forming fists by her sides in an attempt to tame her growing irritation. “Yeah well, maybe I didn’t feel like being the third wheel. I thought it was just going to be you and I, tonight. But you two have been attached to the hip and all you can talk about is Chicago this, Chicago that.”

“Well I’m sorry if I enjoy his company,” Chloe fires back. “You know, the least you could do is be happy for me.”

“Oh great, the guilty card,” Beca says, eyes rolling skyward. She sucks in a sharp breath. “I can’t be happy for you, Chlo.”

Chloe staggers back as though Beca’s words slapped her in the face. “What?”

“I said, I can’t be happy for you,” Beca repeats, her tone rising along with her frustration.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Chloe asks, a mixture of anger, hurt and confusion surfacing in her features. “Why can’t you be happy for me? That’s what best friends are supposed to do, you know. I mean, are you even still my best friend? Because you haven’t been acting like one those past--”

“Because I’m in love with you, dumbass!” Beca finally blurts, a lot louder than necessary. Her declaration catches the attention of a few bypassers, but Beca is too focused on Chloe to care.

She watches as realization dawns in Chloe’s eyes, and all she can hear is her heart beating madly in her ears. She swallows, glancing down at the crack in the sidewalk. “And I’m the biggest idiot in the world,” she mumbles, roughly wiping at her cheeks when she feels a few tears rolling down her skin. “I’ll be out of the apartment by tomorrow.”

Beca is thankful Chloe doesn’t follow her when she turns around and resumes her journey home. She ends up walking all the way, too embarrassed to break down in a cab like in those stupid rom-coms. She texts Amy when she makes it back to ask if she can crash at her fancy apartment, fishing out her suitcase as soon as her friend agrees. Tears keep leaking out, and Beca wipes them away with her sleeve before she starts shoving her clothes into the suitcase, trying to ignore the way her heart aches.

A key slides into the lock just as she’s done packing. Beca straightens and hastily wipes her cheeks dry, even though she knows her bloodshot eyes will betray her.

“You’re really leaving,” Chloe murmurs, her voice barely audible.

Beca sniffles as she heaves her suitcase off the bed and sets it down. “Yep.”

“Why?”

Beca bites back a humorless laugh. “I don’t know, maybe because I’m not a masochist?” She deadpans. “Seeing you and Chicago together isn’t exactly fun.”

“We broke up.”

Beca’s breathing halts as she registers the words. Her jaw slacks. “What?”

Chloe clears her throat a little, taking a step closer. She’s fiddling with her keys, something she does when she gets shy, nervous or nervous, or excited. “Well, I broke up with him.”

“You did?” Beca croaks out.

Chloe nods, the corners of her lips upturning in a sheepish smile. “Because it’s always been you, dumbass.”

Beca’s lungs flood with oxygen, and her shoulders slump, releasing the tension at once. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Chloe echoes, raising an eyebrow as she takes another step.

Beca closes her eyes briefly, her head tilting as she frowns. “Sorry, I think my brain needs to be re-booted. Could you um, could you say that again?”

Chloe chuckles, finally closing the remaining distance between them. She cups Beca’s cheek and joins their lips in a soft, lingering kiss. Beca’s knees quake as a bunch of butterflies release in her belly, and she can’t quite believe this is really happening.

She licks her tingling lips when Chloe pulls away, feeling a bit dizzy. “Um, I’m not sure I quite got that one, either. Care for an encore?”

The first of many, many ones.

[shyficwriter]

Temporary Home: Chapter 10

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: The prank war has an unfortunate outcome and Rocket has a run-in with a raccoon.

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author's note: Thank you to @maribatshipper for the suggestion for the raccoon scene and a prank idea! And thank you to all the others who have suggested scenes they'd like to see in this series! (I'm still working them in!) Everyone feel free to send me anything else you'd like to see happen in this story, it might take me a bit to work certain things in, but I'll try to add as many as I can!

Word Count: 6,114

You slept-in the next day, as did Yondu, though he slept in a bit later due to having waited up for several nights before finally being able to catch you sneaking out.

When he did finally wake up the first thing he saw was you oiling the hinges to your bedroom door.

The two of you locked eyes on his way to the bathroom, no words exchanged. Just you very deliberately not stopping in your actions with an almost defiant look and him shaking his head with a half-laughed huff because you both knew why you were doing it.

***

Peter and Kraglin wasted no time continuing the prank war. Kraglin attempted to whoopee cushion you at breakfast, but you had seen it and decided to eat your apple standing against the counter.

He then later got you with the same ice trick you had pulled on Peter the previous night. Well, almost the same trick. Jackass actually stood there and kept the ice pressed to the back of your neck for a bit while you seized up and tried to escape the cold sensations before eventually letting it fall down the back of your shirt. He laughed the whole time, Peter too. You hadn't seen him open the freezer so he and Peter must have planned it out before you got into the kitchen, arranging for Kraglin to do it instead, knowing you'd likely suspect Peter.

Your thoughts were that you needed to plot some revenge as you made your way out of the kitchen, but they were interrupted as you walked into the sitting room and Rocket confronted you.

"Hope ya don't think you can bribe me with a new bed to get me to like you."

You crossed your arms and feigned a mildly confused look, saying flatly, "I don't know what you're on about."

Peter and Kraglin make their way past you to sit on the couch, throwing a glance to you and the raccoon as if to gauge the situation. Everyone knew that you and Rocket weren't exactly on friendly terms, and to see you facing each other down inspired a degree of concern.

Rocket scoffed. "There was a new bed in my room last night, where else would it have come from?"

You shrug. "Haven't a clue."

Kraglin now threw a glance at you. He knew you said you weren't going to say anything about it, but he hadn't expected for you to actually outright deny you had done it when asked.

"Oh, so it just magically appeared then?" Rocket said sarcastically.

"Looks like it."

"What's going on?" Gamora asked as she entered the room, eyeing the two of you to see if she needed to help diffuse anything.

Rocket ignored her. "Beds just don't appear out of thin air!"

"Apparently they do," you replied.

Gamora tilted her head back in understanding, and then made her way over to the table where Yondu was sitting and playing with Groot. This didn't appear serious, so she wasn't going to get involved.

When she sat Yondu whispered over to her, "What're they carryin' on about?"

She didn't get a chance to answer because Rocket then yelled, "DON'T CALL ME A RACCOON!"

What had happened was Rocket said, "They do not!" in response to your claim that beds could just magically appear. It couldn't have been one of the others, it's not like they could leave to go buy one, so it had to be you, and it pissed him off that he was so sure and more frustrated that you wouldn't just admit it. He felt like you were making fun of him, calling him stupid for insinuating he would believe in something as dumb as a magically appearing bed.

To be honest, you weren't even fully sure why you were denying it yourself. You had just wanted to set it up and be done, and you were annoyed by him insisting that you admit you had done something nice for him, especially if he was now going to accuse it of being bribery.

You replied, "Why would I have done it? I don't even like you."

Rocket was only growing angrier, crying out, "I know it was you! None of the others could have done it, and I would have seen if one of those SHIELD people showed up with it!"

You shrugged then responded with, "I don't know what to tell you, I'm not in the business of making beds for raccoons."

You knew you were being a little mean. You had called him a raccoon once already, shortly after he arrived, and received a very curt scolding from him for it. You had also seen how it pissed him off when Peter called him that, always angrily insisting that he wasn't a raccoon. So, you had expected him to be a little miffed.

You hadn't expected him to snap and actually lunge for you.

You dodged just in time, luckily, and he landed on the floor, growling at you.

Peter yelled at him to knock it off and Rocket retorted back that you deserved it.

You just stared him down and said, "I'll punt you across the room next time, you little shit!" Why had you taken the time to make him a bed again?

"Alright, break it up!" said Kraglin firmly, standing up to show he meant business, used to having to break up Ravager fights and easily falling back into the old role of neutral mediator.

"Gladly," you say bitterly, turning to leave the room.

Rocket grumbled something unintelligible and walked in the opposite direction, hopping up into the rocking chair to sulk.

***

You went back and forth with Peter and Kraglin with the pranks most of the rest of the day, and it actually helped improve your mood about the Rocket situation, or at very least took your mind off it.

You got them back around lunch when you squirted some lemon juice in Peter's soda when he wasn't looking, and smeared jam on the inside of the handle of the fridge knowing Kraglin was about to make a sandwich. The looks on their faces were satisfying, but you discovered their way of getting you back later was to leave two glasses of water on the table. Upside down. With a note that read, "Have fun! Don't get wet! -Peter and Kraglin"

You didn't have fun, but at least a bath towel made into a makeshift dam around the glasses kept you from getting too wet.

You immediately thought of a way to get them back. Unfortunately it didn't work quite as planned.

That evening, sometime after supper when you finished washing the plate you had used, you placed a piece of duct tape just over the spout of the faucet, so that it was only mostly covering where the water came out. This way, when the water was turned on, it would spray directly onto the victim.

You knew that Peter or Kraglin would likely be the next ones to use the sink, as they had made their own dinner just after you had and were just starting to finish up.

You left the kitchen and went to the sitting room, pretending to look for a book to read but in reality you were eagerly waiting for the screams as one or both of the guys met their fate with an unexpected shower. You even considered returning to the kitchen once it happened just so you could tease them on not following their own advice, referencing the note attached to their previous prank about 'not getting wet.'

Not too long and your desires were met, however, the voice behind the cries wasn't the one you had intended to hear.

A loud, angry, bellowing of, "DAMMIT QUILL!" could be heard from the kitchen and your eyes went wide.

Oh no.

That was Yondu's voice. Apparently he had fancied a glass of water and got in the way of the prank, becoming its unintended victim.

You quietly made your way out the sitting room door, hearing Yondu scolding that Peter needed to grow up and then Peter saying, "I swear! I didn't do that one!"

You made it to the front door and heard Kraglin's voice defending Peter, "No, for once he didn't, sir. I've been with him all day! Pete didn't do that."

You quickly and quietly opened the door and escaped just in time to hear Yondu calling your name.

***

You decided it was probably safe to re-enter the house perhaps half an hour later after taking the time to do some light archery practice.

You were greeted inside by Mantis who was apparently coming to look for you anyway to see if you wanted to play a game of UNO.

You eyed her suspiciously, remembering the last time someone sent her to invite you for something. You lean in close to her and quietly say, "Before I say yes, I want you to answer honestly. Did Kraglin or Peter send you, and is this another trick?"

Mantis shook her head. "No, Gamora sent me. She said nothing about a trick."

You thought for a bit. Mantis didn't seem the type to flat-out lie, and Gamora already said she didn't get involved in Peter's mischief, so you decided it was safe and agreed.

Mantis grinned wide and took your hand, practically dragging you to the sitting room and exclaiming to the others upon entry that you had said yes to playing.

At the table you saw Gamora, Drax, Peter and Kraglin. You didn't know where the others were, but you thought it was probably better that Yondu was elsewhere just in case he was still cranky about getting caught in the line of fire. You also didn't feel like dealing with Rocket.

Gamora and Peter sat on one side of the table, with Drax at one end. Kraglin sat opposite of Peter and Mantis was about to take the seat across from Drax, only just releasing your hand when you realized the only other seat would be between her and Kraglin. You eyed him and said, "Do you promise to behave yourself if I sit here?"

Kraglin feigned being offended. "Of course, ma'am!"

You narrowed your eyes but went to take a seat hesitantly. Out of the corner of your eye you could see him reach his hand out toward your chair, thinking that you weren't looking. If the last couple days had gone any differently you might have thought he was going to try a creepy move and grab your ass, but you had a feeling that wasn't what he was going for.

Kraglin was startled when your hand suddenly darted to grab his wrist and pulled it up above the table.

Just what you thought. Whoopee cushion.

"Aha! Behave my ass!" you scold, ripping the whoopee cushion from his hand easily in his shock and sitting down. "I'm keeping this," you taunt, mimicking what said the other day when he took possession of it from you. You stuck your finger in the opening to quietly release the air from the sack and stowed it away in your pocket as he pouted.

Gamora narrowed her eyes at Kraglin. "You two said you were going to behave." She wasn't referencing how you had made Kraglin promise before sitting down, but rather she had actually made Peter and him promise that they would behave and not cause mischief during the game while Mantis fetched you, wanting to try and make friendly with their host with a game without their shenanigans. Honestly, she wasn't sure why she believed them.

Kraglin grumbled what sounded like a "Sorry, ma'am." and Peter changed the subject by starting the game.

Surprisingly they did behave while playing. All six rounds of it before everyone was tired of playing and decided to pack it up.

***

You had just finished washing up for bed and were exiting the bathroom when a cry to "watch out!" made you turn just in time for a giant spider to fly towards your face.

You realized too late it was only Peter throwing the rubber spider at you.

Too late to stop yourself from shrieking as you batted it away, too late to prevent your loss of balance as you reared back, much too late to stop your socks from slipping on the hardwood floor or you from falling backwards, and unfortunately much, much too late to stop yourself from a poor landing where you tried to catch your fall with your outstretched hand only to be met with blinding pain.

Your eyes rolled back and you couldn't even scream, the sound caught in your throat as if the pain were strangling you.

Peter realized his prank had gone wrong when instead of yelling at him, you only rolled to one side and muted gutted noises came out of your throat as you held your arm.

"Crap! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! That wasn't supposed to happen!" Peter cried, rushing toward you on the floor. Kraglin's voice could also be heard apologizing, footsteps coming from his and Yondu's room where he and Peter had been waiting for you to be done with your shower so they could perform what was supposed to be just a harmless jump scare.

Finally finding your voice you yell, "Don't touch me! Get the fuck away from me!" as Peter knelt down. Your senses were blurred into only pain and rage. Your only thoughts were "go away" and 'fix arm, stop pain.'

More apologies poured from their lips as you tried to right yourself up with only one arm as you couldn't bear to move the other.

Peter tried to help you up but you only kicked him away, still blinded by pain and rage. "I said don't fucking touch me!" Eventually you were able to use the nearby wall to use to crawl into a standing position while the other two made pleas for you to let them help, for you to calm down, and something about dislocation. You couldn't really think clearly enough to sort out what they wanted, and only kept (figuratively) pushing them away as you made your way to your bedroom door where Mantis was now standing looking concerned.

You could just make out other voices, but didn't have a clear understanding of what they were saying or what they wanted either. You were only focused on one goal, and that was getting to your room to assess your arm.

Mantis readily moved aside so you could enter, but then remained in the doorway once you entered, unintentionally preventing you from being able to close the door. You look at her, saying firmly, "In or out. Pick one."

Looking a little frightened, she chose out, and you slammed the door behind her, locking it out of instinct more than clear thinking.

Almost immediately there came pounding on the door, and Peter's shouts that you needed to come out and let someone help you.

"Fuck off! I've got it!" you yell back.

Outside the room was a mess of concern. Gamora stood in the doorway of her and Peter's room, yelling at Peter and Kraglin from across the landing for their foolishness once she realized well enough what had happened. Yondu was standing on the stairs, having heard the loud thump of a body hitting the floor and then you yelling at someone to get away. He came to investigate only to find the scene before him.

Mantis, intimidated by the yelling, sought comfort from Drax who was standing in his doorway wondering what in the world was going on.

Rocket had momentarily stepped out of the room with Groot to see what the commotion was about, but upon realizing it was you just waved the situation off and returned to the room. Not his problem.

Yondu asked Peter what all the fuss was about and Peter admitted that he and Kraglin had fucked up a prank and it lead, to what looked to Peter, you dislocating your elbow, and then you locked yourself in your room. This explanation made Yondu join in with Gamora's scolding.

Inside your room you assessed your arm. Nothing was broken, but the elbow was indeed dislocated. You felt sick, mostly from the pain but also from the unsettling feeling of having a bone out of joint. You knew what you needed to do, you just wished you had a shot or two of whiskey in you first.

Back outside the room Yondu scolded both Peter and Kraglin, telling them that he was putting a stop to this prank war. Gamora agreed, stating that it had gotten out of hand when the guys tried to argue that it was just an accident.

Yondu attempted to knock on your door and convince you to come out, but you wouldn't bite, calling back through the door that you had it handled and for everyone to leave you alone.

Yondu glared through the door at your stupidity. He thought you were acting like a child. "Ya need someone to help ya put it back in place, now get out here. That's an order!" That last line was mostly from habit, and it got pretty much the response anyone would have expected from you.

"I don't take orders from you!"

Yondu growled, not exactly used to being defied, especially not the rare occasions he was actually trying to be helpful. He'd seen his share of dislocations, both from his crew and their victims. It was never pretty. "Well ya can't just haul up in there like a wounded animal!"

You rolled your eyes inside your room, fighting the churning in your stomach as you positioned yourself for the unpleasant task, nestling the inner elbow of your injured arm against one of the short posts of your bed's headboard. You took several deep breaths, trying to gather the courage to do what needed to be done.

After a few moments of you not responding Yondu beat on the door again. "Ya better not have passed out in there!"

You groan and say, "I'm fine! Give me a minute to handle it!"

Before anyone can speak again a pop followed by a cry of pain and a string of curses was heard from your side of the door.

Yondu stepped away from the door and rubbed his face. "I don't believe it. She actually did it." he said in disbelief.

Peter approached the door. "Hey! Hey! You alright?"

More curses, followed by, "I told you I had it handled. Now piss off."

Yondu just shook his head and retreated to his room after that, muttering that you were insane and followed by a remorseful looking Kraglin.

Peter also went back to his room feeling guilty and receiving a scolding look from Gamora as well as an earful once they closed the door.

After a bit Drax convinced Mantis to also go back to your shared room, only planning to return to his once he was sure you'd let her in.

You heard a gentle knock and a soft voice asking, "Can I come back in now?"

You considered telling her no, that she chose 'out' so she could stay out, but now that a bit of pain had subsided and your mind was starting to clear you had the presence of mind to realize that you'd only be being a dick by doing that, so you got up and unlocked the door for her.

She entered sheepishly, asking if you were ok, clearly seeing the pain in your eyes.

"I'm fine, Mantis," you say curtly, tucking yourself into bed the best you could, settling for lying on your back with your arm resting on your stomach. "Go to sleep."

Mantis turned off the light and quietly crawled into her own bed. You could feel her staring at you as you stared at the ceiling and waited for sleep.

***

The next couple days you mostly stayed in your room, leaving only to shower, use the restroom, and eat. You knew with that kind of injury you weren't supposed to use your arm for a bit if you wanted it to heal, and that knowledge irritated you to no end.

You couldn't tend the garden, you couldn't practice your archery, or anything else that required the use of two hands. So, you just sulked in your room listening to music and reading.

The first day nobody bothered you much, sensing that you were very cranky. Peter tried to ask to look at your arm, but you ignored him, and he didn't press it. Gamora had later tried to tell you that you needed to splint your arm, and Yondu added that if not that then you at least needed to keep it in a sling, but you only sighed at them at took your glass of juice to your room, much to Yondu's irritation.

The second day they started getting more insistent when by around noon it became clear that you intended to stay in your room all day again. Yondu grumbled again to Kraglin that you were hiding away like a wounded animal. However, realizing that you'd only get mad if they all kept hounding you, they collectively decided to send Gamora in.

They knew you wouldn't listen to Peter or Kraglin since the injury was their fault and you were understandably not really talking to them right now. Mantis might have been a decent choice since you didn't ever really get angry at her, but she had no basic medical knowledge, so she was off the table. Yondu also could have been a decent second choice, but everyone, including himself, knew he wouldn't have the patience to deal with you if you started refusing to listen to reason.

Gamora went up to your room and took it as a good sign that the door was open. She peered inside to see you sitting at your desk and knocked on the doorframe.

"What?" you asked, not looking up from your book.

"I just wanted to-"

"If this is about my arm again, it'll be fine." you say stubbornly.

Gamora entered your room without bothering to ask permission. "If you just let me look-"

"No." you say curtly.

Gamora took a breath. "We really do just want to help you."

"I don't need it. I've been fixing myself up all by myself for a long time. I don't need help now."

"Look, I can't force you, but please understand that it's not weakness to accept help."

You finally look at her, your expression hard. "I never said it was. Just said I didn't need it."

Gamora stared back at you. You were just so stubborn. Reminded her of a few people she knew... if she were honest. One being herself. There was a time where she had believed if she couldn't solve every problem on her own, it made her weak. This wasn't helped by the fact Thanos raised her to be an assassin, and punished such weakness. However, after she joined the Guardians, after she found a family, she came about unlearning that. It was ok to need help sometimes. It didn't make you weak. She only wished she could help you realize it, but she knew that pushing wasn't going to make it happen. You needed to get there on your own. You needed to trust them.

"Ok," she relented, "but know if you ever do need our help, we're here, alright?"

You shortly nod and turn back to your book. "Got it."

She then left you alone. Sometimes, to get someone to come to you willingly, you needed to give them space.

***

The next time anyone saw you was late that evening when you finally decided to eat something for supper. You were in the mood for peanut butter and jam, though opening the jars proved tricky for obvious reasons, but you managed.

You were in the kitchen having just finished your sandwich when Drax came in the kitchen. He looked around a bit before asking if you had seen Rocket. You hadn't, but before you could say as much you heard the sound of growling followed by Rocket's voice shouting, "Fuck off!"

Your eyes flew wide and you bolted for the door, throwing it open to see Rocket fighting with another raccoon a few meters away, rolling on the ground with Rocket cursing up a storm as the raccoon snarled and snapped at him.

You swore, and pushed past Drax to grab the old shot gun you left hidden in a cabinet near the back door along with a couple shells and ran back outside.

You popped the shells in and took aim, trying to get a shot where you wouldn't hit Rocket along with the other raccoon. Your aim was a little shaky due to your injured arm, the shot gun being just heavy enough to make steadying it with that arm a task, even with the adrenaline dulling the pain. You were worried you might accidentally shoot Rocket, but you had to take the shot. If you didn't, and the raccoon bit him, he would likely be as good as dead anyway.

In what was likely seconds but felt much longer, you managed to line up a shot when the raccoon managed to pin Rocket on his back, the wide body of the raccoon up in the air providing a target that with your SHIELD honed skills would be as easy as hitting a cow's ass with a shovel on a normal day. With your injury, however... well, you could still make it. You had to.

You took the shot. The crack rang loudly through the evening air and the raccoon fell off of Rocket and onto the grass, dead.

Rocket's attention turned to you as you lowered the shotgun and quickly approached him, he was about to snark off that he had it handled when you said in a firm but yet still slightly worried sounding voice, "Did it bite you?"

He sat up irritably but didn't answer. He didn't need you of all people to save him. He looked down at his body. There was blood, but it looked to be just the after spray from where you shot the animal. Terran weapons were clearly messier than blasters.

"Did it bite you?!" you ask more urgently.

He looked himself over. "No? What's it to you anyway? I had it handled!"

"Raccoons carry rabies, you dipshit!" you scold. Removing the other shell from the gun you tell him to get inside.

"I'm not a raccoon! And I don't have whatever rabies is!" Rocket shouted at you angrily. "And I don't take orders from you!"

You groan. You didn't have time for his bellyaching right now. "You utter gobshite! I'm not talking about you! I'm talking about that!" you point to the now very dead raccoon, and just to be mean you threw in a, "You know, that fucker there that looks exactly like your furry ass!" He glared at you but you didn't care. "They carry rabies! Now get inside so we can get you looked over and you better hope like hell it didn't bite you."

Rocket grumbled and started walking back to the house, making sure to complain just loud enough for you to hear that he was going because he wanted to, not because you told him too.

You follow behind him. You would dispose of the dead raccoon in a bit.

"That was an amazing shot." Drax told you as you walked by. "I was sure you would have hit Rocket."

"Not now, Drax, please." you say, walking past him.

You got inside to find that the gunshot had attracted an audience, and everyone else was now in the kitchen wondering what had just happened. You put the shotgun and shell back in the cabinet, making a mental note to clean it later. It had belonged to your father, and never saw much-or any really- use from you as there wasn't exactly a lot to need defending from, wildlife-wise, where you lived. Hell, you couldn't even remember the last time you had even seen a raccoon around before tonight, and even when you had you never needed to defend yourself from one. If you left them alone, they returned the favor.

You turn back from the cabinet and lock eyes with Rocket. "Now are you going to let someone check you over or..." you left the question hanging, your tone clear that there was no 'or.' He was going to get checked out. You tried to ignore the irony and your own hypocrisy.

"What happened?" Gamora asked.

"He got attacked by a raccoon." You answered.

Rocket indignantly spoke up. "I had it handled!" He heard Peter snickering and he snapped, "What?!"

Peter just shook his head and quipped, "Already fighting with family..."

Rocket growled. "Shut up, Star-Munch!"

"Table. Now. You need to get checked out. Quit stalling," you command, irritation and exhaustion present in your voice. "I'm not even kidding."

"So what if it did bite me? How bad could rabies possibly be?" Rocket snarked.

"What's rabies?" asked Drax.

You sigh and say flatly, "A very horrible way to die." You look to Peter, thinking that maybe you had a way to get through to Rocket, and ask, "You ever see Old Yeller?"

"Yeah..." Peter answered, though seeming slightly unsure.

"You remember what happens to the dog?"

His eyes widen a bit. "Yeah..."

"Then will you please explain to him why this is serious?"

Peter looked at an annoyed Rocket. "Dude, she's right. Just let us see."

Rocket rolled his eyes and hopped on the table. "Fine! But only to get you all to stop whining."

Peter checked him over, as it was silently agreed with a nod that Rocket would trust him more. While he checked Rocket you thought to ask if he was given any vaccinations when they got here. Peter said that everyone had, but they had been given so many that they weren't sure what they all were.

You knew that Fury should be stopping by the next day for a weekly check-in, and said you'd contact him to suggest a booster for Rocket just in case.

Luckily, Rocket was bite-free, and he gloated as much. "See! I told you! I had everything under control!"

You roll your eyes. "Right. That's why the raccoon had you pinned under it, then. Yeah?"

"Did not!" Rocket protested.

"Well you certainly weren't having a cup of tea, were you?" you said, the tone in your voice saying that you were done.

Drax spoke up. "It's true. The beast was winning."

"It was not!"

"Enough," you say. "Go get cleaned up. I'm tired of hearing you. "

After he skulked off Gamora asked, "Just out of curiosity, what would have happened to him if he had gotten bitten."

You avoided telling her. "He wasn't, but I'm going to take the animal into town in the morning to see if it was rabid. Just in case."

Gamora asked again. "What would have happened?"

You frown. You didn't know how to put it delicately, and the others could tell you were trying and it worried them. Your eyes meet Peter's.

His eyes widened in understanding. "We can't do that to him." Peter said, shaking his head.

Yondu spoke up for the first time. "Do what?"

You frown. "Just calm down. He wasn't bitten. We won't have to."

Yondu sounded more irritated. "Do what?"

You sigh and look to the ground for a moment before looking back up to answer, "If he had gotten bitten, and he hadn't already received a rabies vaccination..." You pause, choosing your words carefully, "the only merciful thing to do... would be to put him down."

"Put him down?" asked Drax.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. "Do I really need to spell it out for you?" You kept your voice down, afraid to say it too loud and for Rocket to hear. "We'd have to kill him. There's no cure, and if we didn't, he'd go rabid, and die horribly." You saw the horrified looks on the other's faces and repeated, "But he wasn't bitten, so that doesn't have to happen. He'll be fine. I'm just going to check with Fury that he was given the shot, and if he wasn't I'll make sure he gets one, just in case. Ok?"

They seemed to relax slightly and you stated that you were going to go take care of the raccoon corpse in your yard, mostly to just get away from the situation and hoping they would have dispersed when you got back.

You didn't even get to take three steps before you felt someone grab your arm. Luckily it wasn't your bad one. "What the hell?" you ask irritably, turning to see it was Kraglin, who had been so quiet the whole time you actually hadn't noticed him.

"I really don't think you should be doing that. If it was big enough to pin down Rocket, then it's too big for ya to be lifting with your arm injured how it is."

You sigh angrily and try to pull away, but his grip held firm. Strong for a skinny guy, you thought. "Let go." you say, irritation thick in your voice.

"No. If this is the only way for you to take it easy and let us help, then I ain't letting ya go til you agree to step back."

You look at the others and you can tell they aren't going to be on your side. You roll your eyes and focus them on the space above Peter's head, where you could see where the ceiling met the wall. "You can't help if I can't unlock the shed," you say, hoping to appeal to their sense.

"Fine," Peter said. "But I'll do the lifting. It's mostly my fault you got hurt anyhow."

"Fine," you grumble, just loud enough to be heard and for Kraglin to release you.

You lead the way out the door, Peter, and also Kraglin and Yondu who wanted to see the raccoon, following behind. Gamora and Drax stayed behind to make sure Mantis and Groot were ok, seeing that they looked a bit shaken.

You instruct none of them to touch the corpse and unlock the shed, turning on your phone's flashlight and pointing out an old box and a shovel to Peter.

"Wow, you've got a nice workshop in here," Peter said, noting the various saws and tools set up around the room that he could make out in the dim light.

You used to make things with your dad and brother growing up, and had inherited most of the tools inside, but instead of traveling down memory lane you just told Peter, "Another day. Let's get the raccoon sorted, please."

Peter obliged and grabbed the items so you could finish the task at hand.

Yondu and Kraglin were staring at the raccoon when you returned.

"Thought it'd be bigger." Kraglin said, cocking his head.

He was right. It did look smaller now that it was dead, but it was still a decent size.

Peter unceremoniously scooped it up with the shovel and dumped it in the box.

"We should probably keep that in the shed until morning," you said, "I don't want it stinking up the car overnight. I can wash the blood off the shovel real quick-" You reached for the shovel but Peter handed it off to Kraglin instead. You looked at them in annoyance. "I'm not helpless, you know."

"And it won't kill you to accept some help, girl," retorted Yondu, fed up with your stubborn attitude.

You roll your eyes and call after an already retreating Kraglin, "Try not to tangle yourself up in the hose this time!" You could see him bristle at the taunt, but he ignored you.

After everything was back in the shed and you locked it up everyone headed inside. The others were nowhere to be seen and you assumed they had all decided to just go to bed, in which you also followed suit, but not before sending a quick text to Maria (Yes, you had said you'd contact Fury, but Fury doesn't exactly text) asking about the vaccination situation surrounding Rocket.

You hadn't expected an answer so late at night, but she responded asking what had happened, correctly assuming that you wouldn't be asking unless something had.

You kept it short. Said you shot a raccoon and wanted to be sure Rocket had his shots.

She didn't respond, and you couldn't help but wonder if that was a bad sign.

[hanazou]

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬.

Genre : Comfort, fluff, romance

Word Count : 1.9K

A response to this request.

— 𝙀𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠, 𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙧, 𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙢𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛?

The days when time slows down is the most dangerous, you thought to yourself, because you can feel your soul rotting away, your will and lack of passion eating your bones, and yet the mind musters no good enough reason to pull your pieces back together.

It is a common story, your own. Your days have been cut shorter and your nights lasted much longer. The desire to sleep the sluggishness away monopolizes your energy, leaving none left to have your meals, diverting your eyes from mirrors so you don’t have to be reminded of your buffering state; one that lacks the passion to even stretch an arm.

You no longer drink morning coffee ever since its sweet-bitter taste is lessened to plain, distasteful bitterness, and the smell of your favourite food no longer makes your appetite moist. The insatiable thought of letting your bed suck in your slothful body washes away each wants and needs.

All those explain why you look the way you do now. You had the chance to make your eyes less saggy and to hide the dark circles, you could have pressed cold spoons and applied some concealer, but it was a chore to even toss aside the blanket glued to your body to drag yourself to the shower. You shouldn’t have slept that long, you barely washed your hair off the filth you gathered from sleeping on the same dusty pillow.

Even the possibility of running into Chuuya today wouldn’t get you on your feet. No, that’s inaccurate—it’s because you might meet Chuuya that you don’t want him to see you in this state. Your beloved won’t leave you alone the moment he sees you like this, which in itself isn’t a bad thing, but how will you explain everything to him? This dormant state, this feeling of wanting space and time to swallow you whole?

Your deepest wish is actually to have him around your arms. Just the thought of silently letting his warmth comfort you soothe you more than any blanket could, but you can’t afford to do that today when you’re in the headquarters looking like someone who’s considering starving themselves to eternal sleep.

Your reflection in the bathroom mirror earlier made your lips twist. You did brush your hair and wash your face and yet, you are still far from looking presentable to the Boss. Unfit to see him, unfit as a mafioso, unfit to be here at all. You did pat down your shirt and pants with a pessimistic hope the Boss will only reprimand you and not send you away on a probation period.

You couldn’t recall when your automated legs brought you here, but here you stand, listening to the Boss briefing you today’s agenda. The explanation feels like hazy flowing clouds of words that blow pass you. You can’t rearrange your wandering thoughts, can’t even feel your numbness away. You simply understand that there are vermins trying to intimidate Port Mafia’s weapons dealer and that the Boss is sending you there to give them a good hit on their faces.

Only when he mentions Chuuya’s name do the wires in your brain spark.

“Chuuya?” You blink.

“Chuuya-kun insists that you will need company, he came earlier than you did to convince me that.” The Boss grins, chin on his hand. “I have the same judgement as to him, but that aside, have you looked at yourself in the mirror today?”

Barbells weigh down your shoulders. That was his way of asking, ‘what makes you think you’re fit for a job today?’ The Boss is the personification of logic. How will he accept your explanation if even you don’t know why you’re feeling the way you do, as if you’re a homeless unemployed bum without responsibilities?

“I’m sorry,” You lower your head.

“Not a problem with me, actually, as long as the job is done.” He smiles. “You can go, Chuuya-kun must be waiting for you somewhere.”

After a respectful bow, you leave through the large mahogany doors. The corridor outside, dark and orange as usual, although narrow, feels too large without Chuuya next to you.

You and Chuuya usually walk out of the Boss’s office together, you smiling at the comfort he gives, discussing what you two would be doing after the day’s job. You feel like a forlorn. An abandoned. A lone traveller whose journey is just to get to the end of the corridor when it was you who tossed away the one whose presence is sure to bring recovery.

“Not going to say hi?” The voice you’ve been craving echoes from behind. You jolt. You’re happy. You want him to bask you in his presence. But you’re afraid. How will he react to your condition?

You debate with yourself, should you turn around and face him? You don’t want to make your worry contagious, but you will have to face him either way for the job. The tips of your feet face opposite directions, unsure where to face, but before you come to a decision, Chuuya appears right in front of you.

Your conscience twists like a sponge when Chuuya’s smile abruptly turns to shock as his eyes lay on you. He gapes your name, not sure what to address, and you turn and walk some distance between you.

“I’m okay, I just slept too much,”

Like a wilting flower, you hide your face.

“Are you kidding? Nobody looks like that from sleeping in too long!” Chuuya’s voice escalates just like you feared. You wish your earlobes can curl in to push away the guilt hearing him makes you feel. Oh, alas, he’s approaching—“What the hell’s been going on?”

“Nothing.” You cower away. “I’ve been feeling slow, that’s all.”

You omit the important parts because Chuuya didn’t sign up for them. He didn’t date you for you to become a lousy, disordered sloth. He wants the smiling and comforting you, not the you who needs him to smile and comfort you.

If you could just push him away for enough time for you to put yourself together—

Chuuya seizes the hand that’s about to put some distance. “You don’t think I can help you, is that it?”

You instantaneously look at him. “I never said that!”

“You know, I hate it when people lie to me, and I don’t like being kept in the dark just the same.” He says.

The way his eyes pierce your conscience makes your head avert away but he clenches your hand tighter. When you glance back at him, slowly that is, his hold softens. “But do you know what I’m feeling right now? Something like self-disappointment. For not noticing earlier that you’re having—those kinds of days.”

“Have you had one?” You ask, interest piqued. “Days when you just, don’t know what you want?”

With a distant look, Chuuya makes a noise of affirmation. He pulls on your hand, taking you with him to a deserted corner halfway at the end of the not-so-dark corridor now. In fact, it may feel a bit... warmer. More comforting, more familiar, more grounding with the way Chuuya’s hand has been holding yours. It’s amazing how just his hand helps more than sleeping for a whole day does.

When both of you enter the hidden corner, Chuuya’s pace still pulling you with him, he yanks you onto his body. Your body crashes against his and his arms are quick to trap you in him. There’s no room for you to struggle nor any space for your anxiety to linger. Like a strong wind, his embrace dusts away the cobwebs around your soul. His hand crawls to the back of your head to push you down so your face covers his shoulder.

“If I had met you when I was going through what you’re feeling now, you could’ve given me this.” Chuuya’s voice came from behind your head. His chin presses your back, his other hand holding you still against him. “So make sure to do this with me when it’s my turn feeling down.”

You begin to feel his heartbeat, and you wonder, has it always been this therapeutic, having this much influence to thaw your continuously swirling uneasiness? But the thought of letting him do the chore of comforting you doesn’t sit right. You push to put a little distance but his hold around you tightens, trapping your arms at your sides.

“Not yet. Just another 30 seconds since we’re on the clock.”

You’re unsure where to look. The floor in front of you? His hair near your nose? The material of his coat your hands are touching?

You don’t want to think anymore. No more confusing rationalities, no more questions, not in this position, not when he’s here. You want to feel, to finally accept. So you close your eyes, bring your arms around him, and let your breaths slow down.

How you’ve missed this.

This doesn’t solve problems, you think, but why can you feel your worry melting away?

The pressure on your arms becomes lighter. Has it been 30 seconds? You can put some distance between you and Chuuya now, but not to escape or avoid him. You just want to see his face.

But your vision was suddenly obstructed by something dark. A sharp scent of comfort, Chuuya’s scent, fills your nose. Your fingers graze up and down to figure out what it is. There’s a flat surface connected with the perpendicular one, and the texture feels oddly similar as you take it off.

From the upper sides of your eye, you spot that in your hand is Chuuya’s hat as he pushes it down over your face again.

“I’m lending you the hat this once so you can cover your face for the job, then I’ll stay with you for the whole day wherever you want.” His hand lifts off you. “I can come over, bringing some of my own wine. How’s that sound?”

You adjust Chuuya’s hat to sit properly on your head, liking how it fits perfectly on you as you look at him. From the look on his face, you know he thinks so as well.

“Hey, you know what? You don’t look half bad with it.” He smirks, pocketing his hands. “You can wear it for the whole day, if you want, but just give it back and don’t scratch it.”

“What a nagging man,” You chuckle. “I’m holding this hostage till I feel better.”

Chuuya scoffs. “Hostage? Ha! My hat will be the one making you feel better.”

“It’s not just because of the hat, silly,” Your cheeks grow from your smile, giving him a meaningful look to thank him.

Chuuya’s eyes widen and his nostrils flare. He turns away, walking out to the corridor, and you follow. “W-Whatever, just keep it with you.”

“What if it’s not enough?” You pat down the hat, liking the way it presses your head. “What if I want more?”

“If you want more, then ask me! Why do you make it sound complicated?”

You lock your arm by slipping it through his. The fabric of his sleeve on your forearm feels natural as you sigh, your temple against his shoulder. “Can I really?” You mutter.

Chuuya heaves a heavy breath and releases it with a long sigh. You raise your head to apologise but he shoves down his hat to cover your eyes again, obstructing your vision. “Of course you can, stupid. I promise.”

You breathe in his scent again, feeling his hat around your head, his clothes against your skin, and his strong stature on your body.

You see light at the end of these kinds of days if he’s with you.

📜 ; like what you read? visit my bookshop!

[formenis]

Lines

Anon asked “Can you do one shot were before the Kira case L and reader were trying for a baby but after he takes the Kira case they agree to stop and after L meets Light reader finds out she is pregnant. L tries to send her away but she refuses and they end up fighting in front if the Task Force and that's how they find out L and reader are married and that she is pregnant “

pairing: L x fem!reader

warning: mention of food play

requested: yes

A/N: I apologise for the mistakes you will find in my stories but English is not my first language. Sorry ^^”

Y/A = your alias

Negative.

Negative.

Negative.

Y/N sighed placing the pregnancy test on the sink. It was the second one that week with that same result…Y/N started to believe either she or L were able to have a child.

After a little time off, she washed her face, now her S/C skin was flawless and smooth, and then the teeth. She brushed her H/C hair and took a moment to observe her own reflection: the exhaustion in her E/C eyes was clear (and her job wasn’t helping her) and even her skin lost a bit of colour. In moments like those Y/N wondered what someone as the greatest detective in the world found attractive in her.

Her negative thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

«Miss Y/N? It's Watari, I brought you breakfast» the kind voice of L's right-hand man showed a hint of concern and this made Y/N smile. Watari was always by her side, God blessed him.

«Thank you Watari» before leaving the bathroom she threw the pregnancy test in the bin and adjusted the PJs. Once outside the bathroom she saw Watari serving the breakfast in the cart: fried eggs, sausages, back bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms, fried bread and a slice of white pudding; it was accompanied by tea and hot, buttered toast. To sum up: a typical British breakfast.

«Watari, you don’t have to spoil me like that…» Y/N told him already drooling.

«Miss Y/N, I believe you need some fresh air and relax. Please, enjoy me this afternoon at the shopping centre, I will need your precious advices» and then the old man placed a hot cup of tea on the cart with the rest of the breakfast.

It was not the first time Watari would make such an offer, he knew very well that being L's wife could be stressful. Yes, you heard right: Y/N L/N was L's wife. Despite the young age, both of them got married few years ago and they couldn’t be happier. Well, actually there was something that would make them happier: a child. Both L and Y/N wanted their own child despite the Wammy's House had many orphans.

«They're not orphans, Y/N. They are all adopted by me» L said few months after the marriage when the topic popped out in a conversation. He considered those children as his own, he loved being surrounded by their presence. Maybe because L was a bit childish himself.

However, despite their strong desire to have a kid on their own, it seemed nature didn’t agree with them.

But back to the present. Y/N was thinking about Watari's offer. If people considered L's life as secretive, his wife's one was twice as secretive but Y/N accepted it when she married him: she knew the risks and the conditions of being the greatest detective in the world's partner. So when Watari asked her to go with him at the shopping centre she seized the opportunity and said yes.

.

.

.

Disguise check. Sunglasses and hat? Check. F/C wig? Check. Y/N was ready to leave L's secret base with Watari.

«Are you ready Miss Y/N?»

«Of course, Watari. Let's go!~»

Unaware of Miss Y/N, Watari hadn’t to buy anything at the shopping centre. It was an excuse to let Y/N leave the base, a chance to get some fresh air. He pretended to buy some stuff for him: a new fedora and raincoat to be precise. He would need them for the new case L was going to take.

«Are you feeling better, Miss Y/A?»  

«Yeah! Thank you Watari! I really needed to leave that place» Y/N was smiling again, her skin had a more healthily colour and all the tiredness in her eyes was gone. Watari smiled too. «However…»

«What is it, Miss?»

«Today's test was negative again and…» Y/N sighed and checked the time on her phone.

«If I could dare an advice, Miss, things will come when you stop looking for them. So don't be sad, it only means it's not the right time…»

Y/N looked at him and smiled. «You're right, Watari»

♰ TIME SKIP ♰

December 2003. L was going to take part at one of those boring ICPO meeting. An emergency Interpol meeting, with delegates from all around the world, held in order to discuss a rather strange situation that was occurring in Japan. They are convinced that something was happening but cannot be sure what it is.

L was going to take the floor but before that he called Y/N.

«Did you call me?» Y/N entered the private and empty room that was L's personal "office": a desk, a fancy armchair and many many computer screens at their highest brightness level.

«Yes. Please, come closer» L replied. When he was with her, his usual monotone voice would become warmer and gentler, something reserved to his wife only.

Y/N walked towards him, next to his armchair waiting for an explanation. «Y/N, this case seems quite interesting. I think sooner or later we have to move»

«We?» she was surprised. Was she really going to go with him? It would be the first time.

«Indeed. If you agree, obviously»

«Of course I agree. I'll help you as always, L»

He smiled and took her hand, kissing tenderly the knuckle. «So would you agree with me if I say that it's better stop trying to have a baby, my dear?»  

Y/N thought for a while, calculating every scenario. «Yes, you're right»

L smiled again, this time wider. «Thank you, my love»

Y/N smiled as well and L returned to his bright screens. Then she noticed his personal stash of sweets beside him and took the opportunity to steal a Bon Bon Cherry (A/N: they are shortbread cookies wrapped around a cherry and topped with cherry frosting).

«Y/N, those are mine»

She snorted but ate the sweet regardless of L's warning.

♰ LATER THAT NIGHT ♰

«Are you coming to bed, L?»

«Not now, Y/N»

She walked closer to him and hugged the detective from behind. «But I prepared some creme pat~»

At those words L froze. Those words meant one thing: food play. And L couldn’t renounce to food play. «How much?»

«Two bowls…one has chocolate too~» she whispered alluring to his ear. In one swift movement, L was already up with Y/N in his arms –bridal style- leading towards the bedroom.

♰ TIME SKIP ♰

Japan was so full of life, wherever you turned you would be surrounded by different cultures. And the people was so kind and polite, they had a very high respect of other costumes and traditions. Y/N loved everything about Japan, she wanted to visit each district of Tokyo: from Akihabara (Tokyo's Anime & Gadget Town), to Shinjuku (Culture Clash) and to Kichijoji (a glimpse of Japan’s rural life within the city). She even prepared a tour on foot for each of them.

But at this point a question could arise: what was Y/N's job? Everyone who had the opportunity to work with L knew that each of his "co-worker" had a specific task to fulfil. So what was Y/N's real task? To be L's shadowy wife? Oh no, nothing like that.

Her role was very important in the couple: she "filtered" the information from Watari to L, she represented L in many circumstances and helped him in solving cases. In other words, Y/N was a sort of "Watari 2.0".

Once the couple moved to Japan, they booked a room at the "Imperial Hotel", one of the fanciest hotel at Tokyo. Until the construction of the new Japanese HQ wouldn’t be complete, L and Y/N had to change often hotel for safety reasons. But Y/N didn’t mind, for her it was the chance to visit the city.

"Kira…eliminating those FBI agents has got to have put you on the defensive. What are thinking right now?" L thought while looking outside the window, in front of him a breathtaking view of Tokyo at night but he wasn’t focused on it.

«Ryuzaki, are you still awake?» Y/N entered the room, she was already wearing her F/C PJs.

He nodded and watched her walking closer through the reflection of the window. She hugged him from behind and observed the scenario outside the window.

«Tomorrow you'll meet your task-force, you have to sleep»  

«Maybe later, Y/A»

They stood there, their bodies were hugged together but their minds had different thoughts. Between them, a pleasant silence filled the air, the couple was enjoying each other presence.

However, Y/N had to break said silence. «Maybe I'm intolerant to soy sauce»  

«To soy sauce?» L asked concerned.

«Yes…today I ate the famous Kobe meat but not much after that I threw up»

L stood in silence, deep in thought for a while. In those minutes he was analysing the current situation: what if Kira found out Y/N's true identity? Would he use her to blackmail L? He was so focused on those things that he almost didn’t notice Y/N was leaving.

«I'm going to bed, dear» Y/N kissed his cheek on tiptoes. «Please, rest for a bit alright?»

L smiled at her taking her hands in his. «Good night, my love» and then he kissed first the knuckles and after her lips. From this point of view L was really romantic despite his external cold behaviour.

Y/N smiled at him and left the room, now L was alone again with a new thought in his mind: «Since when Y/N is intolerant to soy sauce?»

.

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January 2004 could be sum up with three major events: Raye Penber and Naomi Misora's deaths and the surveillance at Yagami and Kitamura's households. In particular, L's suspects moved to the son of Soichiro Yagami, Light. Technically he had access to the police's private dossiers and database since his father was the Chief and most importantly…he was too perfect according to L.

«Y/A, I don’t want you to meet Light-kun»

«Do you really think he is Kira?»

«It's not an assumption but a matter-of-fact. Of course he is»

However, it was inevitable. Light noticed Y/N's presence at the hotel and he wanted to meet her. He had to. So he "pretended" to be lost and asked Y/N for directions.

«Excuse me, Miss. I think I'm lost, do you know where room 684 is?»

Y/N, with one of her disguise on, turned towards the teenager: in front of her a young man, standing at above average height with light-brown hair and brown eyes. He was wearing a school uniform with a bright red tie.

«Uhm no sorry…but if you follow the numeration on the doors it must be easier for you» and with that Y/N left an astonished yet angry Light Yagami in the middle of the hallway.

She hadn’t the time to think about him, she had a more important thing to do. Since December, she missed her period twice: at first she thought it was because of the sudden trip to Japan but it was already the second time it happened. Could it be…?

«Such a bad timing…» she said out loud once in her room. However, she couldn’t hide the nervousness: she agreed with L to stop trying to have a baby before the Kira case and if the test she bought was positive…what would be L's reaction?

«"Get rid of the cause and you get rid of the problem" they say…let's do this then»

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The task-force was working quietly in L's room, sharing information and dossiers. However, that atmosphere was abruptly interrupted by someone that thrusted open the door.

«Ryuzaki! Ryuzaki! I have something important to tell you!» Y/N appeared in the room, tears in her eyes and a wide smile on her face.

The entire task-force looked at her in awe and confusion. Who was that woman?

L turned towards her as well. Of course when she barged into the room he was shocked not only because of that sudden appearance but because now the task-force knew about her. There must be a really good reason for that.

He stood up and walked towards her. «Please Y/A, not now. You'll tell me later»

«No Ryuzaki, you need to hear this now!» she was so excited that she couldn’t be still.

«Y/A, it's not the right moment. You have to leave, please» L insisted trying to guide her towards the door.

«Ryuzaki stop! I'm your wife and you need to listen this!»

The task-force behind them stared in shock (and Aizawa almost spilled all his coffee). Did they hear right? Wife? What? Someone like L…married?!

«No Y/A, you have to stop. Your behaviour is highly unprofessional. Moreover, you don’t have the permission to stay here so please leave» L was becoming more and more bothered and it was clear by the tone of his voice, deep and fierce at the same time.

«Ryuzaki, I'm pregnant!»

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Silence.

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It was so loud that you could hear a pin falling down.

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Heavy and tense air was breathable, even the task-force noticed it. Y/N was there, with her heart in her throat, waiting for a reaction or a word from L. Fear was soon replaced by terror because L wasn’t saying anything.

«Are you…?»

Deducing what he was going to ask, Y/N showed him the test: two blue lines. At that sight L hugged her tightly, starting spinning together. Y/N burst in a resounding laugh, all fears and nervousness were gone.

«Oh my, Y/A. Finally! I knew it was not intolerance at soy sauce» he placed the forehead against her own and smiled widely.

They stood hugged together for a while and in the meantime the entire task-force was complimenting them about that news (especially Soichiro).

«We have to tell Watari too» L added shortly after the hug.

«Yes, he is going to become a grandpa after all»